Page 211 of The Rules
He took a step closer.
She stood her ground.
"Walk away," she warned, her voice sharp, steady.
Another step.
"That’s cute," he said. "But I remember how you sounded the first time. You don’t forget a scream like that."
Her hand tightened around the knife in her pocket. Thumb slid to the release. She heard Ben’s voice in her head: quick, firm, clean. No hesitation.
"If you touch me again," she said, her voice low and lethal,
"I will put you down."
His smile widened. "They said you'd say that, too."
Then she moved.
Fast. Blade flashing in one clean motion, slicing through the distance between them. She aimed for the ribs—just like Ben taught her.
But he was ready.
His hand cracked against her wrist with bone-jarring force. Pain shot up her arm as the knife went flying, clattering against the pavement.
Out of reach.
Then he lunged.
He slammed her into the brick wall, the impact rattling through her bones. Her gasp broke the silence, but no scream followed.
His hand clamped over her shoulder, pressing her hard.
His breath reeked of vodka and rot.
"Round two, Blondie," he growled.
Her mind went cold. Focused.
The knife was gone. Her phone useless. No help coming.
But she wasn’t the same girl he remembered.
She was Katherine Winters.
And she didn’t go down quietly.
Kath stumbled as his hand clamped around her arm, yanking her off balance. His grip was brutal—tight enough to bruise, fingers digging in like iron shackles. She cried out, the sound strangled in her throat as he dragged her backward, heels scraping helplessly against the pavement.
The alley swallowed them whole. One step from the street and the light vanished. Only darkness. Claustrophobic, thick, laced with the stink of garbage and piss. Her heart pounded like gunfire, adrenaline surging, but her body lagged behind—shocked, struggling to keep up.
Then came the slap.
A sharp crack echoed off the alley walls, deafening in the silence. Her head whipped to the side, pain exploding across her cheek. Stars burst behind her eyes. Her legs buckled. The taste of blood hit her tongue—metallic and jarring—as her teeth sliced into the inside of her cheek.
"You always were a tease," he sneered, breath hot and fetid against her skin. "Time to finish what you started."
His hand slid up her thigh.
