Page 29 of Little Sunshine

Couldn’t.

His hold was too firm, keeping me faced away. Trying to hit him would only work to hurt me. And with his gross palm covering my mouth and squeezing, I couldn’t speak or plead or reason or insult.

I was frozen, both by fear and circumstance.

Right up until someone touched my stomach.

I jolted, trying to shift away as bile rose in my throat when the hand moved to my hip.

It was a light touch. Tentative, even.

But that didn’t make it any better.

When whoever touched my ass, I nearly lost the tenuous hold I had on my retching stomach. Rather than feeling me up, whoever only slid my thin wallet free from my back pocket.

My head swam in relief.

It wasn’t the first time I’d been held up—that’d happened at the old age of twelve. Replacing my EBT card, bank card, and license would be a pain in the ass, but it was infinitely preferable to what could’ve happened.

I would even give them my pin numbers so they could hurry along to discover that I was broke. That they’d wasted their time. That I should’ve been the one robbing them because it was almost certain they had more than I did.

“Nothing,” the quiet one whispered.

I could’ve told you that.

“’Cause you’re not looking right,” the other bit out, the harshness of his voice sending a chill down my spine even before he pushed in close.

Too close.

Pinning me against the building with his body, he kept his tight hold on my mouth. He ran his other hand along my body. Unlike his friend, he groped at me with a bruising roughness.

Shoving a hand into my hoodie pockets.

My front pockets.

My back pockets.

Lower.

When his hand tried to go between my squeezed thighs from behind, I used what little leverage I had to push off from the wall. The hint of space I achieved was quickly lost when he body checked me back into the brick. His hand on my mouth should’ve softened the blow, but he jerked my head to ensure it hit hard.

I blinked back tears as he lowered his mouth to my ear. His icy voice was low enough that only I could hear him, yet he might as well have been shouting. “You stupid cunt. You think you’re better than me? You should feel lucky I’m touching you.”

Either his buddy was getting quieter, or he’d moved farther down the alley before calling, “C’mon, man.”

The man holding me rose to his full height. I couldn’t stop myself from flinching, and the sick bastard’s erection jerked against my back at the sign of fear.

Saliva filled my mouth.

“Let’s just go,” the nervous one continued.

A leader and a follower.

“You telling me what to do?” the leader asked in such a calm, scary way, I almost felt bad for the other guy.

Almost.

“No, no, of course not.”

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