Page 2 of Brick

I recognize the voice, even though it's much closer than it was before. It's the same man who tried to offer me a hit before. I guess he's a little pissed off that I turned him down.

The problem is I don't have time for him to be pissed off. I've got to find my sister, and being held back by some junkie fuck is not on my bingo card.

"Now, I think you're going to tell me what you're doing sneaking around my spot," the man growls in my ear, and I look around trying to figure out a way to get out of my current predicament.

"Ugh... not... for you," I grunt, even though his hand is still wrapped around my throat.

"Oh no, baby, I think you are here for me. In fact, I think it's about time I got what you came here to give me."

His dirty, whiskered cheek rubs against the side of my face as he smiles.

My feet slide against the floor as he pushes me forward. I point my toes, trying to get some traction. It does nothing.

He slams me against the wall in front of me, and I swear I feel a bunch of dust explode out from the panels of the nearly crumbling surfaces.

"This is going to be good," he continues behind me as his hands push up into my shirt and fumble with my bra.

I will not allow this to happen. Not here, not now.

Using all the power I have, I push my feet up and push against the wall.

The asshole behind me wasn't expecting me to fight back, so just that little bit of force is enough to send him backward.

We fall to the ground, and he hits with a grunt.

His hand releases from my neck, and I scramble away from him.

I'm able to get to my feet before he does. Finally, I have the upper hand. The anger and frustration that have been building up for me all day fuel my next move.

With every ounce of strength I have, I pull my foot back and swing it into the man's midsection.

He gags and wraps his arms around his gut.

"You piece of shit!" I snarl at him.

Drawing back my foot, I kick him again in the gut.

"Hey, sweetheart, I think he's had enough," someone slurs from behind me.

When I turn to look over my shoulder, I see another man glaring at me.

Not only do I not have time for this, but I also don't have the strength to take both of them on.

My eyes drift to the window. Right now, that is my only option. Moving as fast as I can, I jump over my first attacker and break through the boarded-up window.

Splinters rain down on either side of me. With just one glance out of the window, I realize that I'm on the second floor. This isn't going to feel good.

I shoot a look over my shoulder and realize the man I managed to get away from is slowly getting to his feet. Neither of the men seems too interested in coming after me. It seems like they are more concerned with getting me out of their space. I've got no problem doing that.

Dangling my feet out of the window, I drop down onto the mess of old boxes and trash.

Pain rockets through my body, but I don't focus on that. I can't. I need to get away from here.

I get to my feet and start running in the direction of sanity.

If there's one thing that I don't think I'll ever understand, it's how my sister could ever feel comfortable in a place like this.

Still, if I have to go through fifty other drug houses to find my sister, I'll do it.

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