Page 15 of The Ecstasy of Sin (Brutal Brotherhood #1)
Wren
My instincts are screaming, alarms of warning blaring through my central nervous system.
I take a step away from him and turn to run, but his hand reaches out and wraps around my wrist, yanking me toward him.
I stumble on my feet, the flat soles of my shoes sliding on the wet concrete. The rain begins to fall in earnest, turning the smooth cement beneath us into a slippery mess.
The stranger reaches for my backpack, trying to tug it away from my body. If he takes it from me, he might as well kill me. It contains the medication I need to keep my migraines at bay, and without those, I’ll spiral into my own personal hell of sickness and suffering.
“Please don’t,” I beg, my voice breaking as fear wraps my heart in its unyielding fist. I clutch the straps of my pack, desperate to keep it attached to me.
“Stupid bitch,” he spits, yanking hard enough that my worn shoes lose what little traction they have and I fall backwards. I cry out when my back hits the cold, wet concrete beneath me. The air in my lungs leaves my body in a brutal whoosh as he falls on top of me .
A bolt of lightning flashes in the distance, and it’s bright enough to light up his face. His facial features are twisted in frustration, and his pupils are eerie pin points in the angry shadows of his dark irises.
Before I can beg him to stop, he lands a punch that splits my lip and rocks my head back against the hard ground. I groan as pain blooms, radiating through my jaw.
His rough hands wrap around my throat and squeeze. I thrash in response, twisting my body with every ounce of strength I have in a desperate attempt to buck him off of me.
He’s going to kill me.
“Fuck you,” he snarls, his hands tightening around my neck. I want to scream and hit him, to demand he tell me what a homeless girl could possibly have that is worth murdering her over.
I fight with everything in me. My fingernails drag along his thick arms, leaving deep, bloodied grooves in their wake. I struggle, twisting my body and kicking out with my legs, but I find no space or leverage to gain the upper hand.
He drops the rest of his weight on top of me, pinning me beneath him and compressing my lungs. My every attempt to gasp and draw air into my body is made impossible as he strangles me.
I fight, but it’s not enough. Why isn’t it ever enough!?
My vision darkens around the edges as my body convulses. His hands tighten, and burning agony flows through my entire body like an electrical current. He’s cutting off the blood flow to my brain.
My fragile, disordered brain.
I’m dying .
Darkness pulses around me, threatening to swallow me whole.
My mom’s beautiful face is suddenly in front of me, her gentle laughter filling my ears as bright lights dance behind her. I hear her voice calling out to me, but she sounds so far away.
I hear the sound of boots pounding against pavement, but that sounds far away too. Maybe Dad is coming to pick me up and take me home.
We can be together again. In a place that isn’t so dark, cold, and cruel.
Lightning rips across the sky, and suddenly, the weight of my attacker is gone. Just when I think I’ve died, blood rushes to my head, and my lungs expand so abruptly they ache behind my ribs.
I black out for several seconds, my body on autopilot as my brain struggles to send signals to my lungs to breathe.
Just breathe. Inhale, exhale, repeat.
When I regain consciousness, the violent urge to expel the water from my lungs has me seizing and rolling onto my side. Rain water pours out of my mouth as I cough, my aching lungs working tirelessly to stabilize.
Another violent flash of lightning, and the alleyway lights up, illuminating a scene I didn’t think I had a chance of witnessing.
It’s my attacker, flat on his back, with a monster of a man straddling his chest, pummeling his face with punch after unforgiving punch .
The sound of fists slamming into flesh and bone is nauseating and horrific, mixing with every beat of heavy rain on the concrete like a symphony of violence.
I want to scream, but the only sound that comes out of me is a mixture of coughing and gasping as my body fights to oxygenate itself.
My wide eyes are locked onto what is unfolding in front of me, and like a car accident, I can’t look away.
A thunderous boom detonates in the sky, casting brilliant light on the man that just saved my life.
His face is twisted in fury, his lips curled in a feral snarl. He’s dripping rain, and blood, and wrath—and I swear I know him. I swear I’ve seen that devastatingly handsome face before, even now when it’s distorted by pure hatred.
My voice is gone, and my muscles are trembling and weak. All I can do is watch in horror as my attacker’s face caves in under the onslaught. A flood of thick, blackened blood spills from what used to be his face, splattering all over the man straddling his chest.
My breathing finally evens out enough for my vision to clear, but adrenaline is still pumping through me. I scramble upright, my hand flying to my bruised throat, as I sputter from the rain pelting my bloodied lips.
Another bolt of lightning ignites the sky, thunder crashing overhead and nearly making me jump out of my own skin.
Wrathful green eyes meet mine, right before the light catches on the silver and black surface of a massive blade.
“Run, little lamb.”
Dominic .
Goosebumps erupt all over my body, a violent shiver following in their wake.
I knew it. I knew it was him. He found me somehow, and once again he’s saving me.
His words are a harsh command, one that threatens punishment if I don’t obey. My body responds, and before I realize what is happening, I’m scrambling to my feet. I stumble backward, away from the puddle of thick, dark liquid spreading out from my attacker’s battered skull.
Chancing one final glance at Dominic, my breath hitches when I see possessiveness in his beautiful eyes. His scowl turns vicious as he turns his attention away from me, and back down to the aggressor-turned-victim pinned beneath him.
The light of the furious sky glints off his blade as he lifts it high.
And I run. I’m an observer in my own nightmare as I run down the street, instinctively knowing which direction will take me to the shelter. The rain is pounding against my face, and I taste the bitterness of fear and blood on my tongue.
My aching lungs are struggling as the women’s shelter comes into view.
My legs are so weak I feel like I’m seconds away from collapse.
My frantic heart pounds wildly as I spot Kevin standing at the door, and his eyes widen in surprise at my approach.
He quickly swipes his keycard and pulls the door open for me.
Without a word, without slowing down, I race inside.
I lose my footing the second my wet shoes hit the linoleum floor, sliding and slipping until I collide with the front desk, landing on my ass in front of it .
My tailbone explodes in pain from the impact. My lungs seize, and I gasp as I hunch forward, my palms braced on the cold floor. My breath comes in ragged bursts, adrenaline still tearing through my bloodstream like wildfire as I fight to steady my breathing.
“Wren? Wren!” Lorraine, one of the staff members I’ve come to know over the years, is calling out to me. Her tentative hand touches my shoulder, as Kevin rushes to my side to try and help me to my feet.
“I’m calling the police,” he says, reaching for the radio clipped to his belt after he helps me up off the floor.
“No! I’m fine,” I cry out, my voice so hoarse it’s barely recognizable. “I’m fine.” I repeat those words again and again while my breathing steadies. I can tell by the worried eyes of the two staff members that they don’t believe me.
I force myself to stand upright, brushing the soaked strands of long hair away from my face. My shaking fingers grip my drenched clothes, trying to straighten them as they cling to my body.
“Jesus, Wren, what happened?” Lorraine asks, her hand still on my shoulder.
“I was attacked, but I got away, and they ran. I lost my bag.” I hardly recognize my own voice, and the lie feels like ashes on my tongue. But I just know Dominic killed my attacker, and the last thing I want is for him to be arrested and thrown in jail for saving my life .
I don’t know what I'm going to do, having lost all of my medication and belongings, but what other option do I have? It’s not like I can go back out there now to try and retrieve it.
Someone will eventually report a murder when they find the body behind the church, and find my abandoned pack nearby. Will I be blamed? Will I go to jail for this?
My mind is racing, my heart beating violently, when Lorraine’s calm voice pulls me out of the spiral. “Wren, honey, let’s get you a hot shower and some fresh clothes.”
I nod. It’s all I can do. I assume that means they have a bed for me. I just need to sleep, to turn off my brain for awhile, then tomorrow I can figure out how to fix the colossal mess I’m in.
Almost five months worth of migraine prevention medication… all gone. There’s no way my pack will be there in the morning. Not in a city full of struggling people and a homeless population that takes whatever they can find.
Not that I can blame them.
I follow Lorraine into the communal showers, where she gestures for me to wait while she ducks into the locked storage room. When she returns, she places a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt on the bench beside me, followed by a downy towel she presses into my hands.
“I’ll go make sure your bed is ready for when you’re done. You’re safe now, Wren. Take a deep breath and get cleaned up.”
Stepping into the shower, I turn on the water until it runs hot enough to chase the terrible cold away. I feel as though I’m detached from reality as I peel my frigid, drenched clothes from my body and toss them into the corner of the stall .