Page 3 of Compelled Obedience

I picked up my pace, which seemed to entice the person behind me. Laughter floated in my direction, dark and ominous as if a promise of things to come. I pulled my purse closer, trying not to be obvious about sticking my hand inside, yanking out my small can of mace.

One more block.

“I like it when you fight, little girl. Tonight, you’re going to learn what it feels like to be with a man.”

Fear tore through me in an unexpected way, the threatening voice seeming to be right beside me, even if I knew better. An ugly dream from the night before had driven me to the horrible moment in the past, the one I swore I’d never return to again.

I could swear I felt the asshole breathing down my neck. Keep walking. Don’t stop. You can make it. No, I had to make it. I was the only person Casey had in his life. While fear crawled into every muscle, I’d never allow myself to become a victim of anything and wouldn’t do so now because some piece of scum was taunting me.

“I think you and me need to party, pretty bitch. You got de boots. Ya got de hair. I bet you got a hot pussy. I feel de need to lick it. Fuck it.”

Christ. One of those. His voice was low and husky, grating to the point my nerves were frazzled. I ignored him, although murderous thoughts raced through my mind. The fucker didn’t want to bother me. Not tonight. I was already on the edge, my sanity slipping a little bit further into the abyss.

“Come on, sweet thing. Suck. My. Cock.”

Hold on. Recognition threatened to explode in my brain.

I almost stopped again. Keep going. His voice sounded familiar. One of my students? No, that wasn’t possible. Or was it? I was certain I’d heard it before. Ignoring him was my best option. I didn’t have far to go. At least the block where my apartment was located was well lit, several streetlights adding an eerie yellow glow to the worn-down buildings.

“Hey, bitch. I’m talking to you.”

Click!

I’d lived in the dark bowels of the city long enough to know the sound of a switchblade being opened. Without hesitation, I spun around, aiming the nozzle of mace where I believed his face would be. Why hadn’t I brought my knife? I made a promise that I’d never go out at night again without carrying it with me. It had been the first purchase I’d made after leaving Vegas, a gift for all the horrors I’d endured before being set free. “Fuck you,” I managed.

As the spray hit the dude in the eyes, I had a sense of satisfaction, even sporting a slight smile. But it was short lived. He howled, screaming obscenities and I took two steps back before sprinting the rest of the way, struggling to get my keys into the lock on the outside door of my apartment building.

Relief flooded me when I managed to jerk it open, ready to flee to safety.

Then I heard his voice, the deep growl he issued. “Bitch. He knows where you live. Watch your back.”

I slammed the door behind me, pushing myself against the wall so I could try to catch my breath. The warning wasn’t typical for a gangster out for a good time or to grab some quick cash. And I wasn’t some random chick. I’d heard the warning before. The kid was nothing but a paid messenger. I was certain of it.

Someone was out there. Waiting. Watching.

Preparing to strike.

Shaking all over, I tried to shove the ugly thoughts aside. Casey couldn’t see me like this. He’d freak out. After taking several deep breaths, I headed up the stairs to my third floor apartment, almost calm by the time I unlocked the door. I could hear him wailing from where I stood. That wasn’t good. My caretaker had called me in a panic, her usual methods of calming him down failing. Thank God my neighbors were understanding, but I knew their patience could last but for so long.

At least it had been a few weeks since he’d had an occurrence. Why tonight? He’d been doing so well, but I’d sensed an episode coming on. I’d almost called in sick from my new job, but I needed the money too badly.

Rebecca immediately rose from the chair, her demeanor highlighting how frazzled she was. “I’m sorry I had to call you,” she said. “I tried everything. Reading. Cuddling. His favorite movies.”

“It’s okay. Thank you for staying longer than expected. I’m glad you called. I’m so sorry he was such a handful.” The college-aged girl was a godsend, one of very few people Casey could tolerate.

She nodded and I sensed she wanted to say something else, but I moved past her into the small kitchen, grabbing a glass then tearing open the carton of milk. Right now, I couldn’t take anything else thrown my way, my limit reached when my broken-down POS of a car had needed some work done.

My hand was shaking as I poured the liquid, enough so several precious drops spilled. The half-gallon would need to do until I got paid from my new job. The money from teaching was already spoken for.

And then some.

As soon as I walked into Casey’s room, he stopped moaning. His fists were still balled, his face covered in tears. “Hey, buddy. I’m here. Look what I brought you as a surprise.”

“Kerwi.” His face was beet red, his room a mess from where he’d thrown a fit. I didn’t have the energy to clean up at this point, the exhaustion starting to take a toll.

“I’m right here, little buddy.” I was relieved that he hadn’t hurt himself, which he’d done twice before, the small scars on his face a constant reminder. I’d also lost him to social services once, thankful I’d had the nanny-cam on to prove that he’d acted on his own in the blink of an eye. That didn’t make the situation any better.

“Why is your hair bright pink?” he asked, giggling immediately.

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