Page 24 of Chalk Outline

The steady throb in my temple is unyielding.

“Everyone is working. No one will know about us, I promise.”

That’s what I’m afraid of.

No one is going to save me.

His hand flies to the buckle of his belt, fumbling with it until it opens, and he unzips his pants.

My heart thrashes against my ribs.

This won’t happen.

I refuse to be violated by this animal. I hate being touched. It’s unfamiliar, vulnerable, and it makes me sick to my stomach.

“You’ve been checking me out for months, Reeve. Too shy to make a move.” He smirks. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I’ve been keeping an eye on him—there’s a big difference.

I summon all my strength and yank one arm free from his grasp, shoving it into my pocket. This is my last hope. I graze the pocket knife with my fingertips.

“You want to rub yourself, huh? Get it ready for me.” He eases one hand under the waistband of his briefs, stroking himself long and hard while keeping me pinned down with the other. “I’ve been waiting for you, Reeve.” He groans.

My breath catches in my throat.

I stretch my sweaty fingers.

Blood pounds in my ears.

“All you have to do is surrender, and I will ensure you are satisfied, too. You will like it when we’re done. Maybe you will beg for more.” His weight crushes me and keeps me bolted to the floor. “You don’t matter. You are nothing to your parents. If you go unnoticed, they wouldn’t even know. It must be hard living with all this weight on your shoulders. Let me help you lift it. I will take care of you.”

I swallow hard, losing the fragments of hope I have left when…

Got it!

I pull out the knife and flick it open at my side.

“Reeve, I’m not going to hurt you,” he promises.

My eyes widen as a sudden calm washes over me, as if I’ve centered myself.

The music fades, and his face sharpens.

My hand flies to his neck, and the knife plunges into his throat.

I slash it across without a second thought.

Blood pours out rapidly.

“Like hell, you won’t. You’re not going to touch me or anyone else ever again.” I whisper-shout.

I pull the knife back and shove Dick’s body off me. He is still gargling as I scramble to my feet. Without a penny or an afterthought, I run away and don’t dare to look back.

Forced to live a life on the run, away from a drug addict who later overdosed and a con artist who eventually got life imprisonment, I stole food and clothes. I slept on a different porch every night because I had no one who cared for me or was willing to save me until Romina Bishop came to my rescue, offered to train me, and gave me a sense of purpose.

Under her scrutinizing gaze, I was given one shot, and I had to see it through because I had nothing left.

I’ve been running for two weeks, getting as far away as possible from the circus. The streets I’ve passed are a blur behind me. I have no idea where I’m going, but my legs keep pushing me forward. I am exhausted, yet panic rages in my nervous system when I hear the police sirens in the background.