Not You It's Me (Boston Love #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,64
to see who can orgasm fastest isn’t fun for anyone but you!”
His scowl darkens to a look of pure hatred and I take a step back, belatedly realizing that maybe it’s not the best idea to pick a fight with a man in a deserted hallway at nearly 10 p.m. when most of my elderly neighbors are long asleep, even if it is only Ralph — pudgy, short, lazy Ralph. I’ve never seen him as remotely threatening before, but as he advances on me now, his face contorted with so much rage he’s nearly unrecognizable, I think maybe that was a mistake.
A big one.
“You’ve got a big mouth, Gemma. Never liked that about you, except under very specific circumstances.” His eyes glint vindictively as his thinly veiled sexual innuendo hits me like a slap in the face.
Never one for subtlety, Ralph.
He takes another step forward as I retreat from him, the amount of space between us dwindling almost as rapidly as the distance between my back and the shadowy corner of the hallway — somewhere I don’t ever want to be with Ralph, but especially not now, when he looks like his hands are itching to wrap around my windpipe and squeeze until there’s no breath left in my lungs.
“That fucking video is everywhere,” he sneers. “Everyone’s seen it. My friends. The guys at work. My fucking mother.”
I fight the urge to snap so what? at him, figuring now isn’t the best time for another taunt.
“You humiliated me on national television, Gemma. The YouTube video has millions of hits. I’m a laughing stock. They’re calling me Cellphone Guy on the radio, on TV. The internet shit is even worse. I’m a fucking meme. And it’ll never end. It’s out there forever.” His breaths are ragged and there’s a look in his eyes I don’t like — an off-the-rails, out-of-control, downright scary look. “You’re gonna fucking pay, Gemma. You have to fucking pay.”
He’s threatening me — I register that plain as day. But there’s a small part of my brain still insisting that Ralph wouldn’t actually hurt me. Not with anything more than words, that is.
The other, more rational portion of my mind thinks otherwise, and my hand starts slowly unzipping my duffle as I pray my cellphone is somewhere near the top.
“Get away from me, Ralph, right now. Otherwise I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Call the police?” He laughs, stepping closer. “It’ll take them a while to get here, Gemma. Too long.”
My heartbeat picks up speed as I backpedal further away from him, my hand now hurriedly rooting around my bag for the phone. “You so much as touch me, I’ll press charges. You’ll go to prison, Ralph. Your life will be over, I’ll make sure of it.”
“You already did that, Gemma, when you kissed Croft and made me a fucking fool.”
My back hits the wall and I see victory flash in his eyes, now that he’s got me cornered. Ralph’s body blocks the path in front of me, there’s a wall to my back, a closed apartment door on my right, and the exit is twenty feet down the passage to my left. I could make a run for it, but I don’t much like the idea of putting my back to him, not when he’s looking at me like that. Plus, with the duffle weighing me down, he’s probably faster than me.
The small part of my brain that insists Ralph isn’t a threat has fallen noticeably silent — especially when he takes another step forward, revenge in his eyes and dark promise in his reaching hands.
I open my mouth to scream even as my feet prepare to move, but it’s not my own voice I hear ringing out in the silent hallway.
“Gemma, dear, is that you?”
The voice, surprisingly strong despite the frailness of its owner, is accompanied by the welcome sound of the door on my right swinging wide open. Ralph freezes, his hands suspended limply in the air between us, and my eyes leap to Mrs. Hendrickson, who’s just appeared in the doorway. Her feet are stuffed into bedroom slippers, her gray hair is in pink rollers, and every inch of her skin covered with a paisley-patterned nightgown that drapes her from her neck to her toes. There’s a large, orange tabby cat cradled in her arms, purring so loudly I can hear him from five feet away.
I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my life.
“Mrs. Hendrickson,” I breathe, my voice audibly relieved as my eyes move back