Holy shit. I take a street to my left which has no street sign attached to the pole. “Great. I’m lost at night in a fricking city. Just great. My legs feel weak as I force myself to walk at a quicker pace. The sound of footsteps behind me makes my heart pound erratically. The feeling of danger lurks in my mind, pumps through my veins, urges me to run. The bright lights that not long ago lit these streets like a Christmas tree have now been replaced with a gloomy darkness.
My body is shoved against the brick wall of the nearest building. My mouth is covered with a damp material reeking of petrol.
“A pretty lady like you shouldn’t be walking these streets alone at night.”
Terror rips through my core. Panic rears its ugly head as I whimper. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pray for this man to take whatever he wants and leave.
“How silly are you fucking women, really?” His voice is raw. “Give me your bag!” he commands.
My hands tremble with such force the clutch falls from my fingertips, dropping to the ground.
“You silly bitch,” he grunts. “Why would you go and do that?”
Frozen, I stand pressed against a wall with zero defence tactics in mind.
“I’m going to take my hand from your mouth now, and if you scream, I’m going to put a bullet in you, you hear me?”
I manage to nod.
“Good. Now bend down and pick up that fucking bag and hand it over.”
I nod again. The pressure is removed from my mouth immediately, and even though I try to suck air into my lungs, I can’t. Breathing right now seems almost impossible.
“Get the fucking bag!” he yells.
Slowly, I squat, my back sliding down the wall until my bottom rests on my heels. Frantically, I search the rough cement with one hand as I keep my eyes sealed shut, still too scared to open them. The sound of feet running, followed by a loud thump against the ground has my eyes springing open. The clenched fist of a mysterious hero is raised high into the air, then soars downwards. It happens again and again and again, beating against the man who threatened to put a bullet in me. I commence screaming bloody murder and run in the opposite direction.
“Shit!” Someone yells. It’s a primal roar of the words echoing down what I believe to be a laneway.
I run harder. The sound of my heels clopping against the bitumen rings loudly. I try to scream, but my lungs have no air and nothing comes out of my mouth.
“Stop. Abigail,” a gentler tone says, and I’m pulled into an embrace.
I bang my fists and twist my body, trying to escape.
“Abigail, you’re safe, I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe this time. I promise. Stop fighting me,” he pleads, trying to contain my flailing limbs.
“Marcus.” My voice is barely audible as the smell of petrol is replaced with that of mint.
“Yes, baby, it’s me. I’m here.”
Tears trickle down my cheeks as my body trembles uncontrollably.
“Shh. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
Marcus scoops me into his arms, and my ear lays against his chest. His heart beats erratically. Is he as frightened as I am?
“Let’s get you to the hospital,” he says, strained.
“No hospital. I hate hospitals. I’m fine. He didn’t hit or touch me anywhere. Take me back to the manor, Marcus, please?” As the words leave my lips, I burst into a flood of tears.
TWENTY-FOUR
In a Blink of an Eye
After placing me into the passenger seat of a car I’ve never seen before, Marcus’s hands run over my skin, I believe he’s searching for bumps, scrapes and cuts, but I’m not injured. Scared, but unharmed.
“Are you sure you are not hurt?” His voice trembles.
“No.”
“Abigail, why did you take off like that?”
“I didn’t.”
“You fucking left the restaurant. Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t mean to. I was on the phone, people were everywhere. Then they were gone.” I sob.
“Shh. It’s okay, it’s okay,” he repeats, his voice strained as if he’s fighting back tears of his own.
“How did you know where I was, Marcus?” I ask with accusation.
“I don’t know … I just did. I was speeding to the restaurant and something told me to stop.”
“What told you to stop?”
“My heart.”
The car fills with silence until the sound of Marcus’s breathing deepens. Taking his hands from my thighs, he hits his palms into his forehead. “How stupid. Why did I leave you? I have to keep you safe this time,” he berates himself.
“Stop,” I cry out. “Stop it.”
Pulling my limp body against his chest, he whimpers, “I’m so sorry, Abigail.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because I let you down again.” His arms release their stranglehold before he grabs onto my shoulders, pressing me back. Our eyes meet. “I’m going to call the police, okay?”
“Please don’t.”.
“I have to. I just beat a man unconscious.”
Tears trickle down my cheeks as I see the anger filling his eyes wash away, replaced now with overwhelming sadness.
“Then we are going to get you to hospital to make sure you’re okay. Once you’ve been looked over and given the all-clear, I’m ringing your mother to come pick you up; you’re leaving on the first private plane out of here.”
“What?”
“You’re going home. I should have never approached you at the cemetery. I hoped if you saw me there like that, you would remember me, but you didn’t. I’m sorry. I should have left you alone.” His grip loosens until my shoulders are left naked from the loss of his touch. He closes my door, walks off, disappearing from my sight momentarily, until he stops by the driver’s door.
He let me down again. How?
I watch him pace, his grey suit soiled and crumpled, his body slumping when Grady pulls up in the same car he drove me to dinner in. I open my car door and watch Grady exit his vehicle, he looks almost frightened, and the reason why becomes immediately apparent. Marcus stomps straight to him, shouting and swinging his arms in every direction. Grady doesn’t bat an eyelash and stands like a soldier at boot camp, taking a barrage of anger, anger I’ve caused.
“Stop it, now!” I scold, pulling my tired body from the passenger side. “Marcus, stop. It’s not his fault.”
“Get back in the car.” His face is as red as a tomato, his eyes burning with fire.
“No.”
“God, just do as you’re told for fucking once.”
“No!” I yell. “It’s not Grady’s fault. If you want to scream and carry on, then come here and give me all you have. I’m to blame.”
Marcus’s jaw clenches in synchronisation with his fists. “Abigail, get in the car.”
“Not until you calm down.” I take three large steps towards him.
“You were not to take her anywhere. What part of that was hard for you to understand, mate?”
“I did the wrong thing. I’m sorry,” Grady says pleadingly.
“Sorry … you’re fucking sorry. Do you know where I found her?”