Page 10 of Hold Him Like Gravity

He reached for me again, this time around the throat, hauling me closer by it as my chest started to hurt and my face got fuzzy.

“Stupid fucking bitch. Open the goddamn register and maybe I won’t bruise that pretty face of yours.”

Okay.

Alright.

Maybe I should just open the register, give them the money, and try to run out the back door while they were distracted by grabbing the cash.

Decision made, I gave him a nod, and he released my neck, but grabbed my shoulder instead, shoving me forward so hard that I lost my footing, falling forward too quickly even to brace myself, making me clip my lip on the corner of the cash register before falling to the floor.

“Christ,” the man snarled, grabbing me by the back of my shirt and dragging me back to my feet as blood flooded my mouth from my split lip.

I ran my tongue instinctively against my teeth, testing them for looseness. Finding none, I tried to ignore the pain and drip of blood as I reached toward the register, tapping at the screen with shaky fingers, messing up my employee passcode once before getting it right, making the cash drawer slide open with a festive littleching.

“Empty this shit,” the man behind me said, grabbing me by the neck again, and pulling me away from the register. “Where’s the safe?” he snarled in my ear.

“Um, under here,” I said, pointing down, only to realize that the new refrigerated display case didn’t feature a spot for the safe. “It was there,” I said, hating the wobble in my voice.

“Show me the office,” he demanded, grabbing me by the back of my collar, keeping me close to him as he turned to his buddies. “We’re going into the office. Don’t interrupt us,” he said, the words and the tone making dread flood my belly, had bile rising up my throat. “I’ll letcha know when it’s your turn,” he added, making a sobbing sound form at the base of my throat, but I choked it back.

It was going to be okay.

I had a chance to fight one of these guys off, then rush out the back door before his buddies came to see what was going on. This was my only chance to get away.

So I sucked in a steadying breath and forced my legs to carry me down the alley, around the acrylic-enclosed room, then around into the office.

It had been slightly redone. New floor. Fresh paint. The stained ceiling tile was replaced. But, otherwise, it was the same as before.

I did spot the safe under the desk, though.

Before I could point it out, the door was kicked closed behind my attacker, his hand was going to my hip as he walked me forward toward the desk.

Before I could guess his intentions, his hand went to the center of my back, forcing me to bend over the desk.

He moved in behind me, his intentions clear, pressing against my ass, and making my stomach clench hard.

“You know, I don’t mind if you scream,” he said, his one hand holding my neck against the desk while the other went to the waistband of my jeans.

I was suddenly thankful I wore jeans, not yoga pants like usual, to work. Because despite pulling, he couldn’t make the pants budge as he yanked at them.

I spotted something out of the corner of my eye, and before I could even think it through, my hand was shooting out and closing around the pen.

My attacker got frustrated enough to release his hold of my neck, wanting his second hand to try to pull down my pants.

But before he could reach for me again, I whipped around, raising my hand to plunge the pen right into his eye like all the personal protection experts said to do.

I remember that those same experts claimed the biggest problem women faced when trying to fend off an attacker was actually doing damage to them, like there was some innate part of us that didn’t want to hurt anyone.

I was, apparently, an anomaly.

I didn’t hesitate.

My stomach didn’t twist at the idea of what I was about to do.

A lifetime of being a small girl in a big, bad city had taught me that no one would ever show me any mercy. So I damn sure wasn’t going to show any toward someone who was trying to harm me.

But before I could aim true, my attacker brought his arm up, deflecting the blow, while raising his other hand, and backhanding me across the cheek so hard that my body flew to the side then crashed down onto the ground.

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