Page 56 of Injustice and Absolution

Then he focuses his attention on unbuttoning my jeans before ripping the tight denim down my legs, taking my underwear with them. As the other guy stands, walking around the counter and out of sight, I brace myself for what comes next. My body readies itself for an unwanted intrusion, something it hasn’t had to do in five years. It’s a lesson in survival most people never learn.

When his fingers breach my entrance, I feel like I’m going to be sick. I notice the surprise in his eye when he realizes that I’m wet. He’s probably assuming I’m some fucked-up girl who gets off on the pain and terror.

He'd be right about the fucked-up part.

I try to squeeze my legs together, to push his fingers out from inside of me, but his giant body between my legs prevents me from doing so. Black spots dot my vision, consciousness fading in and out over … however long it is.

I lose track as I lie here, letting the inevitable play out, knowing nothing I do will put an end to it.

He remains silent, other than his heavy breathing and a groan when he pulls himself from his pants and fists his cock over me.

He moves his body to line himself up at my entrance when suddenly, our attention snaps toward the front door, the sound of broken glass shattering and falling to the floor.

Another attacker? What fresh hell is my life shoving me into this time?

“Delilah!”I hear a strangled voice shout my name, but my shock inhibits me from identifying who it’s from.

“Shit! We gotta go!” the other man shouts, causing my attacker to abandon me. Standing, he tucks himself into his pants, anger marring his stare. It’s clear even through the ski mask he’s wearing.

I hear a sudden roar come from the other side of the counter as the two men disappear through the back room as quickly as they came.

Another set of feet chases them as I remain on the floor in a shivering heap. Pushing up, I cover myself the best I can with my ruined shirt and spot the knife still laying on the ground a short distance away.

I grab it then back myself against the wall. Holding the knife firmly in my shaky grasp, I listen for any additional noises from the back.

Nothing recognizable. Nothing at all.

I stay there for a few minutes before I hear footsteps again, coming back toward the store. I muster all of the bravery I can but can’t bring myself to move. To get away.

Terrified, tears leak down my face as a figure steps out from the shadows and approaches me swiftly.

I watch as a bloody hand reaches for me, gently gripping the knife and pulling it free from my grasp.

I finally look up to see him standing over me.

Drew.

“Shh... Delilah. I’m here. It’s okay, pretty girl. You’re safe now.”

He lifts my quaking body into his strong arms and holds me tightly against him as he carries me around to the front of the counter. Sitting down, he rests his back against it, still cradling me to him as he does his best to pull my pants into place with one hand.

I look at him again, if only to confirm he’s really here with me, and only then do I breathe a minuscule sigh of relief.

His eyes are on mine as he runs his knuckles gently up and down my spine. I catch a cut on his other hand when he pushes my tangled hair out of my face.

“You’re bleeding,” I say to him, taking his hand in mine as a twinge of guilt hits me.

With a sad smile, he responds, “It’s only a scratch.”

My eyes fall to the shattered door, and I see a black T-shirt rumpled on the floor just inside of it. Looking back at Drew, I realize he’s in only an undershirt.

“I wrapped my hand in my shirt so I could break the glass easier,” he explains, realizing I’m trying to piece together the details. “But after what you just went through,you’reworried aboutme? Delilah...”

His voice hitches, laced with emotion.

“I’m okay,” I try to assure him. “They didn’t get very far. You stopped them.”

I’m still rattled, but I remind myself how much worse it could have been. How much worse I’ve endured before this.

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