Page 15 of Bossy Grump's Secret

"Thanks?" I have to make my appreciation pronounced to emphasize my discomfort.

I rush to clean so I can leave.. All the while, I can feel his burning stare at my back. I turn around to confirm my suspicion and make sure I'm not just being paranoid. There he is, with a big belly, semi-bald head, creepy walk and a confident look on his face... just staring at me!

"You know," he says, halfway between my cleaning. "I have a spare five hundred just lying in my bag..." He walks leisurely to me, and I angle myself to face him in a defensive position. "... was thinking of buying a new pair of shoes or sum, but now that you're here, you know..." He tries to pry the broom out of my hands, but I keep my grip firm.

"I'll just finish the cleaning, sir; thank you." My voice is low, and I'm trying not to sound offensive. He hasn't officially said anything implicative, so it'd be unwise to react, even though his intentions are readable in a big, bold Calibri font.

"Huh? Not easily bought, are ya?" He moves confidently to the door and taps a card on the knob. The lock activates.

What have I gotten into?

"A thousand dollars change ya mind?" he smirks. If only he knew how ugly he looks trying to pull off a thirst trap. "Two?" He perseveres when I don't answer.

"I'd like to leave now, sir," I say sternly, keeping my voice calm. His face scrunches from the former proud gleam to a disappointed leer.

"You're a real stubborn one, aren't ya?" He is laughing at my immediate panic. "Five thousand. For a lady this mediocre, you're about to become my highest expenditure for sex."

"Let me go. "I make a beeline to the door and turn the knob, but it doesn't budge. And immediately sandwiched by a body and the door.

He groans hungrily and begins grinding himself on my behind. I feel like throwing up.

"Let me go, you sick son of a..." My head rams on the door before I complete the statement.

"Ya need to show some manners, darling. You'll have no one pay you this much for whatever you offer."

My head is spinning from the haze of being dealt such blunt force, and my heart and brain pick up pace and activity; I realize I'm in danger.

Fight or flight? Flight first, I pound the door and scream ruthlessly for help until he covers my mouth with his massive hands.

Then fight. I feel my hands as far away as my tendons and ligaments will allow me to retract them with as much force as possible. My elbows connect with his stomach hard, pummeling skin and organs. He wheezes as the air gets knocked out of him, but that isn't enough to get him to let go.

Instead, he grabs me and throws me across the room. I land in every part of my body but my feet.

"I'm going to enjoy taking you rough." He smiles maniacally and approaches me. Again, I let out another scream instinctively. Still, my brain's logic reminds me of these rooms' soundproof capabilities.

Before I can stand and get away, he is right above me, kicking me hard in the stomach, knocking the fight out. I feel my brain get too lazy to keep up with this horrifying consciousness and want a nap.

Not now... It would be horrible to go down without a fight. He is atop me, grabs my arms, pins them over one of his, and then uses his legs to shift my dress upward as he undoes his buckle with the other hand.

Before he can bring out his grotesque member, a pair of hands grabs him by the shoulder and wrenches him off me. "GET OFF HER!" someone yelled. Dylan?

"You know, you really shouldn't interrupt a man's meal, but…now that you're here, maybe we can share." The assailant laughs humorlessly. I'm sure he knows that it'd be a snowy day in hell before he can get any random person to agree to joint raping a girl…especially if that person is a hotel staff member. I know what the man is trying to do. He’s building up his rage… and it works.

“You…animal…” Dylan spits, blinded by fury, but the man seems even angrier. I think I see it coming before Dylan does... the man's hand flies toward his jaw, and another scream erupts from my throat as the blow connects. Dylan throws a counter punch that hits the man squarely, and just like that, the two begin a gut-squashing brawl.

The scary thing about this fight is that there's no one to stop them... just me and my puny strength against two bloodthirsty men.

Fortunately, Dylan appears to have the upper hand because of his youth and agility. luckily He can land more punches until the man backs off. Dylan stops as the creeps are obviously defenseless... I'm surprised the man still stands after the last barrage of fists. Dylan has also sustained significant bruises.

"You motherfucker! I gonna bring your down! This is hotel down ! " The man laughed with his badly beaten face, barely able to pronounce words accurately.

"You broke my bloody teeth. Goddam…" the villain rapist roars as Dylan pulls me out of the room. It is just as the man tries to rear up again. Dylan slams the door in his face, knocking him back down to the ground.

"Seventh floor, room 204. Assault of staff. Sexual and physical." He gave the description in a visibly shaking voice. Five minutes hardly go by before I hear footsteps - security guards.

Based on the sounds of it, the security is experiencing almost as much trouble as Dylan did in first subduing the creeps. Finally, relatively silent. I peek out to see the man pinned on the ground, cuffed by the men who had pounced on him early.

I can now give Dylan my full attention.

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