Haze - By Andrea Wolfe Page 0,123

hand over my mouth to forcibly shift my pelvis toward his.

"Mmm, it only makes me harder when you fight." The whiskey scent made me feel ill.

"Effie!" The scream was distant and somewhat muffled from my compromised position. "Where are you?" Even though I could hear it—which meant it had to be nearby—the scream sounded miles away.

It was definitely Jack—and he was definitely looking for me. I shrieked in response, a desperate cry that abruptly ended—a balled up fist struck my head, jarring the world just as it had before, punishment for my indiscretion. The world shook while Jack's tiny voice continued to echo in my head.

"You fucking bitch! I told you to keep your fucking mouth shut!" The knife slashed into my forearm, the flesh cut like it was butter. Blood started oozing down the front of my body as I realized how bad this had become. From bad to worse in mere seconds.

Oh God, his erection was pumping with the raised tempo of his heartbeat...

I was bleeding and helpless, dragged away in an alley, hidden from the man I loved while he was probably suffering through his own horrid panic attack. I obviously didn't want to be raped, but then again, being raped was better than being dead.

Rationalizing the situation made me realize that I was indeed giving up. Even if Jack found me, I could have fatal wounds before he even got to us. Maybe if I just gave in and stopped fighting, I'd wind up okay. This asshole would do his business and leave me alone. I couldn't see him anyway, so what risk was there for him?

Well, other than being identified by his semen...

The thought of my attacker's release brought about a plague of nausea, and I tried my hardest to suppress it. Filling this nylon bag with vomit wasn't going to help me get through this at all, even if everything about it was horrifying and disgusting.

I started to relax, the attacker's body language instantly responding. "I knew you wanted it the whole time, you fucking whore."

I wanted to say something and defend my honor, but instead my teeth clenched together nervously on my tongue. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, reminding me that my arm was bleeding as well.

It would all be over soon. It would all be over soon...

I kept silently repeating the phrase to myself as I fought to get air into my lungs. He was inches away now, ready to slip that wretched, throbbing thing inside of me...

Then I heard it—the high-pitched trilling sound of my stupid stock techno ringtone that I hadn't bothered to switch. Jack always laughed about it when he heard it, saying that I should never change it due to how cheesy it was.

Thank you, Jack...

I couldn't tell if it was actually that clear in the night or if it was due to my hearing being more keen in this survival situation. At the very least, it was far enough away that the whole operation here would have to be seriously disrupted to silence it. I could run if he went to stop it.

The ringing would have to get someone's attention.

"Fucking fuck," the attacker snarled, the tone both familiar and unfamiliar. I could tell he was debating further smashing the phone. But before he moved, the sound stopped—and my hope died again.

"Fucking phone." He repositioned his body and forced himself toward me again—and the ringing resumed. Oh yeah, Jack was definitely searching for me.

"Effie? Effie!" I heard, the sound actually growing louder.

With my last burst of strength, I pulled away and screamed again. "Jack!"

That not-so-friendly fist struck my face again, the response purely instinctive by the man I hated more than any other. The world started to fade as I felt the ground with the side of my head.

Would my misbehavior warrant a fatal stabbing?

"What the fuck?" It was Jack, and it was also the failed rapist, their voices rising simultaneously. There was the sound of metal on metal and then a garbage can crashed against the wall. A struggle was in progress. I heard Jack cry out in pain, the sound causing me to wither. I should have screamed out and told him there was knife, should have spoken...

But then, I heard the clink of the knife hitting the ground and I realized I might need to get involved.

My consciousness returning, I ripped the bag off my head in time to catch Jack shove the other man into the ground, viciously pounding his ski-masked