Page 24 of Never Gonna Lie (Forbidden #2)

Chapter Twenty-Four

RAVEN

L ocking the door after the last customer left for the evening, I blow out a tired breath, glad the day's over with. The morning shift was blissfully slow, but once college kids woke up and started looking for their caffeine fix, I was rushed off my feet. I took a double shift, covering for one of the girls who went sick, and the bone-tired feeling that’s sinking into me tells me I shouldn’t have agreed.

But in typical me fashion, I can’t say no.

James coming in this morning threw me off, and I haven’t had a chance to process it.

I should be happy he sought me out, right?

That out of all of the coffee shops he could have gone to, he came to mine, but it only filled me with misery.

Misery and confusion. The constant whiplash from his back and forth means I’m going to need to file a complaint with my insurance company soon.

I shake my head at my terrible joke and collect the last few items placed around—cups, plates, and dirty napkins—and take them to the kitchen. I go through the motions of wiping down counters, cleaning the coffee machine, setting up for the morning, and then finally emptying the trash cans.

Grabbing the two black bags, I stumble out to the alley, heading in the direction of the dumpsters. I drop the bags on the floor and shake my arms out to relieve the tension before opening the lid and reaching down to grab one of the bags.

A noise from behind startles me, and I turn around, searching.

The lighting out here is terrible, with only a small LED giving any semblance of a glow.

Nothing jumps out at me, so I bend down to pick the bag up again.

A shiver works its way down my spine, almost as if someone’s watching me.

I glance around again, but it's so dark out here, I can barely see three feet in front of me.

As quickly as I can, I grab the next bag when I hear another noise. I freeze in place, my heart beating rapidly as I train my ears to search for any sound, but I’m only met with the faraway sounds of people talking as they walk past.

I turn back to the dumpster when a hand covers my mouth, stifling my scream.

I’m pulled into a chest as my heart races with an intense wave of terror.

I start lifting my arms to push him away, but he’s too strong.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the glint of a knife.

I freeze. Pure, undiluted fear races down my spine.

The leather glove covering my mouth bites into my skin as tears fall down my cheeks. “Shut up, bitch,” the voice growls.

The knife pricks at my neck, and my knees crumble. The attacker’s grip on me loosens a fraction, and I let out a scream.

He yanks at my hair, hauling me back to him and clamping a firm hand across my mouth again.

“You’ll pay for that,” he hisses. “Daddy dearest has been a bad boy, and now you get to pay for his sins.” His breath is vile as it skates across my face.

His spit lands on my cheek as he speaks with such vehemence .

I’m too terrified to speak, to ask what I did, to ask what my dad did. All I can think about is how I never got to tell James that I love him.

I close my eyes, my breath continuing to come in short gasps against his hand as I wait for the inevitable—my death. The knife is still digging into my throat, hard enough now that it’s drawing blood.

“Hello,” I hear a voice call from the end of the alleyway.

Footsteps sound closer, and like I’ve been given a new lease on life, I start fighting and screaming behind the man’s hand.

I kick and thrash in his hold, no longer caring about the knife to my throat.

My elbow connects with something hard enough that his grip loosens again, and I scream, “Help me.”

The voice of my savior calls again, “I have the police on the phone. Let her go, now.”

“This isn’t over,” the man says as he lets go, and I watch through blurry eyes as he runs off.

Once he’s finally out of sight, I drop to my knees, my hands bracing me as I let out an almighty sob.

Tears continue to stream down my face, but I’m too scared to move.

Something lands on my shoulder gently, and I scream before trying to crawl away, the bite of the gravel floor cutting into my hands.

“Pl-please, don’t hurt me,” I cry, still scrambling backward.

The stranger holds his hands up. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He takes a tentative step closer. “My name’s Simon. I heard a scream as I was walking my dog and came to look.” He stops before asking, “Is there someone I can call for you? The police are already on their way.”

There was only one name that came to mind.

“J-James. C-call James,” I stutter, slowly reaching into my back pocket for my phone. I gently throw it to Simon, who bends down slowly, not making any jerky movements. If I weren’t so terrified, I’d be grateful for his thoughtfulness .

My ears are ringing and my eyes are glazed over as I try and come to terms with the fact that someone just tried to kidnap me? Kill me? This stuff only happens in my romance books, not in real life.

Simon nods his head and places the call.

My tears have slowed somewhat, but as soon as Simon hands me the phone, I lose it again.

Hearing James’s concerned tone and that he’s on his way, feels like I’ve been wrapped in a warm blanket.

I’m sitting on the cold ground, my knees tucked into my chest as I try and fail to hold it together.

He keeps talking to me in a soothing voice, variations of “It’s okay, pretty girl, I’m on my way,” and “It’s gonna be okay. You’re safe now.”

I hear the screech of tires and a car door slam before someone’s grabbing me and hauling me into their chest. I’m just about to freak out when I get a hint of smoky leather, and I instantly relax into his hold.

He’s here.

I start sobbing into his shirt, clutching at him like my life depends on it. He rubs my back with one hand, while the other strokes my hair.

“Shhh, pretty girl, I’m here,” he says, his voice breaking ever so slightly. “You’re safe now.”

And for the first time since I walked out to empty the trash, I believe him.