Protect & Serve(104)
But that certainly wasn’t the case in real life. The fear is almost paralyzing when a determined maniac is holding a six-inch knife against your ribs. You just keep thinking to yourself, someone will save me… I’ll keep waiting for my chance. But your chance doesn’t come, or at least mine hadn’t.
During the drive, I considered opening the door and jumping out. The car was old and it had those pop-up style locks that could easily be pulled. I nearly tried it when he slowed to take that first turn. It was too hard. I couldn’t force myself to do it. I knew that taking my chances with whatever injuries may come from jumping was a better option than doing nothing and letting fate play out. Again, when faced with the harsh reality, it wasn’t so easy.
When he pulled into the alley, I knew what he was going to do. He parked in a way that completely stumped any plan I had to get out and run. With the passenger side hugging the exterior of the building, the only way out was past him.
Rick let the engine idle for a moment. His dead eyes bored into the concrete wall in front of us. The fact that he told me his name was maybe more chilling than anything else. It made things clear that he didn’t plan on letting me go. The way he went about the whole thing told me that this wasn’t his first time doing something like this. It was all too calculated.
He was a predator. A pervert sitting alone, drinking in his car, waiting for someone to take advantage of. And there I was. Oblivious to the dangers of the world, unprepared. I bet when he saw me get out of that car he thought he had it the lottery. Young, pretty, all alone… vulnerable.
But he wasn’t making his move… We sat in dead silence for several minutes as I tried desperately to think of a way to escape.
There was a noise from outside the car, but before I could focus on it I noticed that his lips had curled up into a smile.
“Bout time we get started,” he whispered. “Come here.”
“No!” I screamed. There was no way I was going easily.
He grabbed ahold of my left wrist and pinned it to the door while hoisting himself across the seats and back on top of me. The stench of dirty clothes, tobacco, and sweat didn’t faze me this time. He struggled to control my free hand but I swatted him away. I was able to post up on my elbow and strike out with a kick. It hit him flush in the balls. I heard the air escape his lungs.
“Fuckin’ bitch! You almost made me cut you.”
He still held the knife but for some reason it didn’t scare me now. I knew he wanted me alive.
He drew back his fist and swung with full force at my head. I dodged it at the last second and it landed with a thud against the passenger window. I struggled and squirmed against his substantial weight. I put everything I had into it but his strength was too much.
He reached for my neck. I tried to push him away but my one free hand couldn’t match his. His fingers found my throat and slipped to either side. He bared down with a crushing grip.
I flung myself spasmodically back and forth, putting every last bit I had into surviving. The fight was draining the life out of me. My struggle for oxygen was real. As I focused all of my energy on staying conscious his fingers started to probe and tug at the button on my jeans.
I’m let my eyes relax. My will to fight wasn’t gone, but my ability was. How could this happen to me? Things like this don’t exist in my world. I wanted my mind to go to a happier place, to block out what was about to transpire. That’s when my gaze fell beyond my attacker’s shoulder and came to rest on a heroic face. Staring back at me with eyes full of concern and rage was a man I knew I’d never met. Somehow, he still seemed vaguely familiar.
The rest happened in a blur. The man from outside ripped the door open, almost taking it clean off its hinges. He pulled my attacker away, freeing my fragile body.
I scrambled to a sitting position, hugging my knees to my chest. It was like a scene from an action movie. This guy -my savior- was pummeling the would-be rapist into dust. Sharp, bad-intentioned punches were coming one after another, raining down on his head.
He dragged him from the car by the collar of his shirt and flung him against the building. Rick hadn’t made a sound. I think he was having as much trouble figuring this out a I was.
In the moonlight, I got an unobstructed look at my hero. He was tall and lean, maybe 6’3” with big shoulders and thick, defined arms... A modern day Spartan with dark hair and piercing, angry eyes.
I managed to squeak out a sound which caused him to turn his attention in my direction. The intensity in his face nearly melted me to the ground. He had a strong jaw and a couple of days’ worth of stubble the gave his handsome face a hint of ruggedness.