Page 17 of Straight to Me

VP: Yes. Stay put

My heart sings a little, even though it shouldn’t. A warm, fuzzy feeling comes over me knowing that I’ll see him again. I jump off my chair, shoving my phone in my back pocket. I need the ladies' room to properly gauge how drunk I am.

After working out that I’m definitely over the legal limit to drive, I pee then wash my hands and take a good look at myself in the mirror. My face is flushed from the alcohol, with my eyes hanging over bulging, black bags beneath them. I consider texting work, make some excuse up now so that I don’t have to go in tomorrow.

The smiler suddenly appears behind me in the mirror, seemingly from nowhere, making me jump. “What the hell!” I shout, startled.

“Shut your mouth. You need to repay me for the drink I bought you.”

Oh fuck.“What?”

He starts moving slowly towards me. His eyes don’t leave my breasts as he stalks closer, saying, “Get on your knees.”

“Fuck you!”

“Such a dirty mouth,” he grins wickedly.

He starts unbuttoning his trousers, eyes never leaving me. Before he can free himself or touch me, I push past him, making for the door. He lunges forward and grabs me from behind, slamming his front into my back.

One of his hands covers my mouth, stifling my screams for help. His cock rubs against my back making me feel sick. The overwhelming smell of stale beer and sweat stings my eyes. I struggle against him, but that only encourages him, his hard-on poking me even more.

“Mitch said you were a cock tease. Said one day you needed to be taught a lesson.” Mitch? My mind whirls until it hits me. Mitch’s friend! His friend who could get Bex in for free at a bar the other night! I knew I recognised him!

Unable to speak, I struggle against him but he slams me front-first into the tiled wall. My brain rattles inside my head as my lungs fight for air through his sweaty hand still covering my mouth.

His body pins me against the wall as his hand gropes at my breasts. Bile rises in my throat at the unwanted contact. Before he can touch me any further, I summon every piece of anger that’s been festering deep within me. I turn it into a rage that burns harder than anything I’ve ever felt before.

I push back, managing to free myself from his vice-like grip. I don’t allow myself to enter flight mode. Instead, I face the man who’s attacking me, determined to make him suffer for abusing me.

I’m not afraid to take or make my first punch.

He starts towards me and I use the built-up frustration from Chris, VP’s kiss, my incarceration, the years I wasted on a life plan that was never going to happen, that I’m now forced to live a life I didn't choose. With all my might I swing my fist and connect it with the side of his face.

Like shoving my hand through shattered glass, the sudden pain stings wildly. It’s only numbed by the overpowering surge of adrenaline running through my veins. He hits the tiled floor with a clunk.

Chapter Eight

My body starts shaking. I’m sweating, but my skin feels like ice. It’s shock. Hyperventilating, I stumble to the sink, both hands gripping the rim to steady myself. I try to think of anything else to avoid imagining what might have happened. I close my eyes and take deep, long breaths. I think about Bex who’s probably welcoming Kyle home from his weekend right now. I think of my sister and nephew at home, safe, eating tea before they get ready for the week.

I think of VP. His warm, manly body pushed up against mine on his bike. His beautiful eyes, his ruggedly handsome good looks. I think of our passionate kiss in the trees and his intoxicating smell. How the fresh pine mixed with leather floods my nose every time he’s near.

How it’s flooding my nose now. It makes me open my eyes.

He’s here. My VP.

He takes in the sight before him, then launches himself at me, stepping over the smiler. “What the fuck’s happened?” he asks alarmed, as his hands gently steady me.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry,” I tell him. I’m still trying to control my breathing, frightened I might be sick in front of him.

VP looks from me to the smiler, who’s trying to stand. “You fucking bitch,” he sneers at me.

The unfettered rage reignites. I lunge at him, but VP pulls me back. The smiler goes to speak again but VP’s fist lands firmly on his mouth, sending spatters of blood up the wall as he hits the floor again.

VP turns to me, not a care in the world for the man on the floor. Face to face with him, I feel safe. He catches me before I fall, drained from the day, and cradles me in his big arms as I cry uncontrollable tears into his leather cut.

Moments later, the smiler stands, making me look up. My grip on VP tightens as the smiler complains that he’s been assaulted.

VP turns slowly, standing directly in front of me, his lean body guarding me from the man who attacked me. He doesn’t move or speak, his eyes simply bore into the smiler, who’s clearly got a broken, bloodied nose. “You’ll pay for this,” the smiler says looking at me.

---