Page 41 of Why Not Me?

The streets are quiet, so I close my eyes and listen to the sound of the water as I feel it run coolly over my feet. It was a long week of working late, but I feel the stress roll off my shoulders as I clear my head of anything but the water.

I love water, I love the way it sounds. I love how powerful it is in some cases, and how peaceful it is in others. It’s one of the reasons I insisted we have a more interactive fountain. It was a selfish request that I knew other people would gain enjoyment from.

Heat warms my back, hands gripping my waist.

“Landon.” I sigh with a smile.

A low, rough voice fills my veins with ice. “Nope.”

A hand tangles in my hair, pulling hard when I try to turn around. The other gripping my arm in a vicelike hold.

“M-my purse is over there. Take it.” My voice shakes, everything in front of me is hazy as my eyes fill with tears.

Instead of responding, he just laughs.

That laugh sends my already racing heart into overdrive and I start begging and struggling to pull away. He yanks on my hair, sharp pains shooting through my scalp. When I cry out in agony, he yanks even harder.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch.” He drags me backwards to one of the benches. The previous serenity I found in the seclusion of what I thought of as my Zen garden, is shattered as he shoves me face first into the wood.

Sobbing, I clench my hands into fists. Where is Landon? Why isn’t he here yet?

My flight instinct kicks into high gear when I feel my attacker’s hand slid up my dress. I start struggling, kicking back at him. When he yelps as I make contact, my moment of satisfaction is fleeting. A blow hits me in the back of my head, a second one quickly following when I cry out.

Tears flow down my cheeks as his hand finds its way up my dress and onto my ass. My body shivers in repulsion as he squeezes and presses his jean-clad erection into me.

“God, yes,” he groans, the sound fills me with rage.

I try to throw myself away from him, fists and feet flying, but his hand in my hair tightens and uses my momentum to throw me face first onto the ground.

My vision grows fuzzy as he pulls my head up and boots me in the ribs. Crying out in pain, I sob as my limbs grow weak. In his rage, he continues to beat me until I’m a puddle on the ground.

I can’t stop one final wail from escaping as I feel him straddle my legs, my dress bunching up at my waist.

One final blow to the back of my head, and my world goes black.

Glancing at the clock, I hold back a sigh of frustration. My client was thirty minutes late, and now she’s telling me she doesn’t fully understand the exercises I’ve given her.

Running through them again, I watch, giving minor corrections along the way. By the time we’re done, I’m running close to forty-five minutes behind.

“May I use your bathroom before I go?” She dances in the spot, her grin wide.

Clenching my jaw, I jerk my head in a nod. I’m not disguising my irritation well, but she’s been incredibly inconsiderate. She’s lucky I didn’t have any clients after her.

Rushing around the clinic, I check all the doors and shut my computer down. I contemplate texting Allie, but she mentioned working until I got to her office, so I decide against it. I know she has a checklist of things to get done, I don’t want to bother her.

I finally hear the toilet flush—once, and then again.

Gloria comes shuffling out, her face bright red. “So, uh, the toilet wouldn’t flush and now water is running over.” Her voice is humiliated, and I have to fight to keep my expression neutral. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I lock up after she leaves, almost positive she will be looking up a new physical therapist before coming back here.

Racing into the bathroom, I take one quick glance at the mess and yell, “Shit!”

Water is overflowing, the plunger askew in the toilet. I don’t even want to think about what I’m walking in as I rush to the toilet and turn off the water.

This evening is not going how I planned. I was supposed to be with Allie right now. Hugging her and loving on her. Not ankle deep in toilet water.

“Why can’t people show up on time?” Grumbling, I work the plunger until the tell-tale gurgle of a cleared pipe sounds. Turning the water back on, I watch it fill to the appropriate level and stop.

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