Page 188 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
I bolt, careening in the direction I came, just to get away from whoever this is.
My heels stomp through puddles, and the water splashes up my legs. The feel of it clinging to my skin brings tears to my eyes.
The man—it is definitely a man—catches up quickly, and my panic builds. Air can’t keep up with me as I fail to outrun him.
Overtaking, he stops in front of me, his hands flying up in surrender.
A scream rushes from me, and my eyes close.
“Please…”Weak, meek, worthless.
I close my eyes, feeling all those things. Stepping back, I twist my ankle on the gravel road and tumble back.
Terror wraps around me, and my hands rush out to break my fall, leaving my dress to fall beneath my bust.
Strong hands lock around my biceps and pull me close as those wolf whistles come again.
I blink my eyes open to the smell of something sweet and woody.
“Ambrose…”
Dark hair falls into his face, and the white paint beyond runs with droplets to the ground. His red smile is sad, and something like concern hides in his eyes.
You okay?he mouths.
And I can do nothing but clutch him.
I wait for the germs on me to separate us.
I wait for him to push me away.
But it doesn’t happen.
CHAPTER 44
Ambrose—present day
Dollie took too long to answer me, resulting in my leaving work and ignoring Valaria’s calls. It took her approximately three minutes to notice I was gone from the bar—that’s a record.
But I knew Dollie would be scared walking home alone in this rain, and I couldn’t fight the urge to pretend I was just randomly driving by.
I drove seventy all the way, testing my driving skills in the worst weather I’ve ever driven in, but I needed to get to her as fast as possible.
I expected to find her closer to home, but she wasn’t even a quarter of a mile from Butterflies. The run-down dump could still be seen in the distance as I pulled up.
Then she ran from me, back in that direction.
I left my door open and the car running, lights still shining through the bleak evening. It lit the way for me to catch up.
Standing before her now, I’ve never seen her look so broken. Tears smudge her makeup, blending with the bruise on her right cheekbone. Her lipstick is smeared, and her dress is rippeddown the middle, exposing her to the perverts nearby. She nuzzles into me, holding me tighter than I ever thought possible.
What the fuck has happened to you?
My question is silent, but all the anger is conveyed through flaring nostrils.
“Ambrose…” One hand leaves me, drifting between us to pull her dress back up.
I help her with the straps, but avert my gaze.
