Page 123 of Brazen Deceits

Their eyes snap to me, two sets trailing my body while the head gorilla only gives me a cursory glance, intent on finishing the task at hand.

“Hi. Have you guys seen my friend around here? She said she’d come and pick me up, but I’ve been walking for ages.” Igiggle again, tripping over my feet, then catching myself on the wall.

The head gorilla answers. “Nope. Good luck.”

“Thanks anyway, buzzkill.” I turn back to the alley, the hairs raising on the back of my neck with the three of them behind me. I take a deep breath, knowing this next bit is risky. Too risky. My palms are damp, my heart is racing, and I know there’s no way I can do this next step while facing them. I force out a too-loud whisper, hoping the bait is tempting enough. “God, what’s a girl got to do to get a good fuck around here?”

I stumble again, trailing my hand along the wall, weaving toward the dumpster halfway down the alley. If I know Trips, he didn’t stay where I left him—he’s behind the bin.

“Couldn’t get my boyfriend to fuck me. ‘Oh no, baby, not in a public bathroom. There aregermsin there.’” Snippets of them discussing whether they have the time, something about the cops, and one guy pleading for a gift fuck, the conversation chases me as I step farther into the dark. I swallow my bile. “I couldn’t get that guy at the next bar to fuck me, because my jackass boyfriend had to show up and ruin it,” I mumble, the shuffle of at least two guys trailing me into the alley. Good. Two is something.

I stumble closer to the dumpster, my stomach in my throat. Barely audible, a sigh echoes down from the mouth of the alley, and a third set of footsteps starts after me.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

They’re going to think they have me. And then I can say something about how I really need Trips and he can pop out, playing the angry boyfriend like he was born for the role.

I have a plan.

The gorillas wait until I’m almost at the dumpster to jump me.

The ping of a pebble against the wall is all the warning I get before one of them rushes me, my arms wrenched behind my back. My face slams against the bricks, all the air jammed from my lungs.

Fear. The sweating, vomiting kind takes over.

“Hey, baby. I can give you a real good fuck,” the guy behind me whispers into my ear. “We all can.”

I can’t speak. I can’t scream. I can’t breathe.

No bravado. No mask, no face, just me and the kind of terror a good girl spends her whole life avoiding.

I shake, tears in my eyes, barely able to hear past the roar of my heart in my ears. I fucked up. My plan was fucked from the start.

“Wait, Barry.” A new voice breaks in.

The gorilla’s hold loosens, and I slump down, my forehead scratching against the bricks, my hands barely holding me up, the roil in my gut unbearable. I need to ask for help. I need to breathe so I can scream.

Before I can gather myself, I’m whipped around, dark eyes searing into mine as the goon from my first attempt at foolish plans locks my wrists above my head, the brick nipping at my skin. “I thought that was you, little rabbit! How fun!”

I gasp for air, the world hazy, the storm of panic loud enough to block out everything else. I tug, but even with only his left hand pinning both of mine, there’s no way I’m getting loose. His other hand undoes his belt and fly, beforeyanking up my skirt, terror eating me inside out. “What, no quick words? No quick feet?”

The sound of flesh pounding flesh filters through the haze of my fear. Trips is here. Oh thank God. I can do this. One more minute. I can survive a poorly thought-out preplanned groping.

The monster glances over his shoulder, laughing as Trips crumples to his knees, the other two goons diving at him. He whips back, licking from my chin to my cheek, his eyes glittering with malice. “I like the taste of your tears, little rabbit. We’re going to have a real good time, aren’t we? Maybe we’ll even take you with us. A little bonus for all our hard work the last few weeks.”

A yelp and a crack echo from behind the monster holding me against the wall, but my vision goes blank in panic as his huge hand shoves down my underwear, an icy finger prodding my folds. Shit shit shit.

“Trips,” I squeak, the last of my breath pinched, needing him.

Forever passes as I try to pretend I’m anywhere but where I am. As I try to tell myself that this was the plan, that I shouldn’t be upset, that this was mostly what I wanted to happen.

My imagination fails me as the gorilla’s pants drop low enough for him to pull out his rapidly hardening cock.

I’m trying to figure out how to speak again, how to get someone else to come help, to save us, when the monster flies off of me. His head crashes into the dumpster, a sickening squelch and bang echoing in the alley before he slumps down to the ground, his shoulders pinning my feet. I skitteraway, fixing my underwear, trying not to vomit at the contact. And Trips is there, pressing my face against his chest.

His shirt is soft against my nose; I can finally drag in a shaky breath.

I tap against his chest,one two three four five.Over and over, the groans of the gorillas filtering through my fear. I swallow, pushing against Trips’ chest. This isn’t the time to have a panic attack.

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