Page 6 of Pushed

Squeezing the neck of the man on the floor, I could see fear wash his skin in pale gray as his eyes popped out of his head and red bursts sprawled over the white like rivers on a map.

Is he. . . Oh my God, he's—

As the man scratched his fingers at his throat and tried to claw at the arms stealing the air from his lungs, his gaze slowly turned to mine.

Our eyes met, his silently pleading with me for help, begging for me to do something—anything.

Except, I just stood there, I did nothing. I was frozen in place, not even sure if what I was seeing was real. But itwas real,it was happening right in front of my eyes as I spied from the shadows.

His breathing slowed down and his eyes glossed over as his fingers lost strength and fell to the floor.

He's dying.

No! Stop!

Let him go!

There was no way to prepare myself for that, to think that my curiosity would place the life of a man in my hands. I could have run away and called for help, I could have screamed and startled the killer enough to give that man a chance to fight back.

But I did nothing. I stood still as a statue as my own fears swept in, constricting around my muscles like a snake. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak or lift my arms.

My screams weren't making their way out, they went unheard, festering behind a wall of shock in my mind.

The man whose violence had snapped, whose temper had hit full volume, ticked his head over his shoulder, following the eyes of the guy under him.

Our eyes connected, his thinning into slits as his lip curled up, baring his teeth. Dropping the lifeless body, he lurched forward, taking long swift steps in my direction.

No.

No, no, no.

Fuck! What the hell do I do?

I need to hide!

Jerking my body back, I pressed against the brick, wanting to melt into it, wishing I could morph myself into the same hard stone so he wouldn't be able to see me.

My eyes scanned the alley, searching for something, anything; a box, a dumpster, a way out.

Frantically, I tried to run, I made every attempt to connect my brain to my legs and force them to do something. But it wasn't working, I was cemented to the tar as if they laid it down with me in it and it solidified around my feet.

My heart was racing inside my chest, my lungs were gasping for air just like the man on the floor. My head was twirling in scattered fragments and incomplete thoughts.

The idea to sprint away was there, the thought to snatch my phone out of my purse and dial the police was tingling the tips of my fingers.

It was too late.

A heavy hand grabbed the back of my neck, curling in deep and hard with enough pressure to cut any sound I might have made out of the air completely.

Gasping hard, I tried to take in a breath as he dragged me backwards, pulling me away from the street as quickly as he made it to me. My heels scraped the sidewalk as I kicked and dug my nails into his wrist, scraping them raw.

But I couldn't stop him.

Slamming the door behind us, he pushed me against the wall, staying silent for a moment and staring at the floor.

Pressing his free hand into the wall beside my head, his eyes flicked up to mine. “What did you see?” he asked, his tone scratchy and laced with threat.

I felt his breath wash down my cheek as his lips hovered dangerously close to my ear and his fingertips bit into my skin. His voice was thick and coarse, sending prickles over my body and making my heart hammer inside my chest.

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