Page 18 of The Immortal's One
“What’s going on?” a different man shouts.
I keep my jaw muscles clenched in the strongest bite of my life.
“She’s biting me!” My captor screams. He releases my chest completely and shoves me in the back. “Bitch!”
I’m forced to release his palm. I stumble forward, then dig my heels into the gravel to make my escape.
I’m snatched from behind before I take a step.
“You bitch,” my original captor growls in my ears, yanking me back into his chest. “You’re going to pay for—AH!”
A nasty crunch cuts off his insult as the back of my skull crashes into the man’s nose. The impact isn’t great for my already injured head, but adrenaline dulls the worst of thepain. Fight or flight has kicked in. They won’t let me flee, so my next choice is to fight.
I should thank Dad for enrolling me in self-defense classes when I was sixteen…
Dad!
He doesn’t know I’m in Portland. I doubt he even saw me leave the house.
He’s been so preoccupied with his latest manuscript, desperate to get as much work done before he begins treatment next week. I should have told him where I was going. He’ll be destroyed if something happens to me.
Nothing is going to happen to you!
I listen to my encouraging inner voice, pick up my right leg, and kick back. My heel makes contact with my captor’s shin.
He grunts and scoots his injured leg back. He widens his stance just like I hoped for.
It takes a flexible twist of my torso, but I turn and drive my knee right up into the man’s groin.
He bends over with a wheezed curse, releasing me to clutch his family jewels.
I crash onto my hip, the jagged gravel biting into my skin. The sharp sting shoots through me. My hands scrape the ground, tearing through the rough stones, but I push through, forcing myself to my feet.
I spin wildly, my heart racing, trying to get a sense of my surroundings. The street. I need to get to the street. It’s four rows of cars away.
I sprint, muscles aching. Heavy footsteps pound the ground in pursuit.
“Stop her!” the massive man growls, his voice right on my heels. "It'll be our heads if she gets away!"
I push harder, ignoring the panic rising. My lungs burn.
"HELP!" I scream into the cold, empty night, hoping someone—anyone—will hear.
My ankle gives way, but I slam my hands onto the hoods of passing cars to keep my balance, the metal cold under my fingertips. My body is screaming, but I force every last ounce of energy into my legs, urging them to move faster, to carry me just a few more feet.
"SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP ME!" My voice cracks, desperation thickening the air around me.
The sounds of the city blur together. Music from nearby bars and laughter spills from the clubs, but no one is close enough to hear. No one is listening.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, one of the men cuts through the cars. He’s coming at me from the right.
I pivot, my feet slamming into the pavement as I veer off-course. I dive between two SUVs, my body low, heart hammering, praying the darkness will be enough to hide me.
“Dammit! I don’t see her.”
The street is close.
Hope springs in my chest.
