Page 19 of Shattered Dreams

“Zarah?” Gage’s voice again. He’s going to point the guy right in my direction, but I can’t hang up the phone. He’s my only chance at getting out of this.

“Zarah, you’re so close, I can smell you.”

I don’t doubt it. Sweat is trickling down my back, and my pajama tank is sticking to my skin.

Scooting backward, I think I know where he is. In front of the wall of windows, crazy shadows dance on the floor and the outline of his body moves through the glimmering light. But my fear turned me around, and instead of sneaking away from him, I fall right into his trap.

He steps in front of me, smacking the bat against the palm of his hand, his eyes beady and narrow, set deep into his face.

“There you are.”

I scream.

I scramble to my feet. If I can reach the emergency exit I might have a chance to outrun him down the stairs, but he’s too fast and he’s on me in two steps, yanking my hair.

Pain rips through my scalp, into my neck, and down every nerve ending I have. I didn’t tell Gage where I was. How is he going to find me? And why would he bother to look?

Suddenly, I give up, and I lose all fight.

What is there to fight for anyway? I have a fucked-up life. I’ll never be normal. I’ll always have to carry the weight of my past and I can’t ask anyone for help. My life, my recovery, is all on me, and I can’t do it anymore.

I’m tired.

Gage asked me once if I ever thought about committing suicide, and I haven’t, but letting one of Ash’s thugs murder me? I’ll have the best of both worlds. I’ll be gone and there won’t be anyone to blame.

“Kill me,” I whisper, his arm around my neck in a headlock, his wrist pressing against my throat.

He drags me into a dark corner and pushes me against the wall, panting into my ear.

“Maybe I will. How do you wanna go? Want me to slit your throat? Yeah, I like that. Black’ll be pissed, but what’s he gonna do?”

The nasty talk excites him, and he presses his hard penis against my butt. His arm blocks off my airway, and stars fizz behind my eyes. Tears dribble down my cheeks.

“I don’t care,” I mumble. “Just do it.”

“First I’m gonna take what’s mine.” He drops the bat and grabs my crotch, and this is so much like when Ash’s jobs wouldtrap me. Before I lost my spirit I would fight back, but they only enjoyed it more. I learned to stand there, blank out, and try to live through what they did to me.

He licks my neck, his slimy tongue moving up to my jaw. The bitter scent of beer sours his already putrid breath. “Fuck, you taste good.”

I whimper as his hand grapples with the waistband of my pajama bottoms.

“Yeah, do that again. I’m so fuckin’ hard,” he rasps into my ear.

He’s breaching my panties, his fingertips grazing my pubic hair, when the elevator doors bump open and a growling unlike anything I have ever heard before rumbles across the floor and stops him. The bastard releases me and lurches away, but it’s not enough to keep a grey and white blur from baring her teeth, snarling, trapping him cowering against a wall.

“Zarah!”

“Gage.” His name tears past my lips.

He rounds the corner, his chest heaving, but I can’t go to him.

This is what I am. A whore, dirty. Good for nothing but a druggie maniac who belongs in prison.

Lobby security and uniformed police officers stream onto the twenty-fifth floor, and I drop to my knees and cry.

Gage drags me into his arms, his jacket and skin cold. “Are you okay? Are you okay?” he keeps asking, his voice cracking.

“Let me go.” I push on his chest.

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