by Penny Ward
Harper had a weird feeling about walking through the broken glass and the lack of lighting made her nervous. She gripped her keys a little tighter and sped up, keeping her hand on the flip pouch of the pepper spray.
The darkness was giving her an eerie feeling, like someone was watching her and she was working herself up and looking around in the shadows for someone lurking around.
“No one is even around. Don't be so paranoid,” she scolded herself over how she was acting.
Her feet were starting to hurt in her dress shoes and Harper was starting to feel like walking might have been a mistake.
Suddenly, she wasn't as tired as she had been and adrenaline was rushing through her veins.
Her nerves were getting the better of her.
The darkness only lasted one block and she could see the Laundromat clearly. She set her eyes on it as her goal destination and just focused on getting there. She had a feeling that once she got to the Laundromat she was going to feel a lot more at ease.
She was keeping her eyes on the light up ahead when she thought she saw someone out of her peripheral vision to her right.
Harper saw a shadow between the buildings in the delivery alley. A younger guy who may have still been a teenager came out of the alley and watched her as she approached.
Harper almost stopped in her tracks but she didn't want to show him she was afraid.
People who saw fear saw a weakness and they would take advantage of that weakness if they were given the chance.
Her keys dug into her hands as she gripped them tight.
Fingers gripping her pepper spray and purse a little more tightly, she kept her head up while she walked past the alley.
“Hello,” she said nodding at the man and trying to politely skirt past him without seeming like she was in hurry to get out of the area.
He didn't make any motions to return the gesture but she could feel his eyes scanning her as she passed.
Her started pounding at the walls of her chest.
Walking was not the right decision, she concluded.
Harper could see the Laundromat and the sign advertising Wash and Fold for $4.99.
That became her focus.
Her stride became faster.
Quicker.
Trying to escape the darkness.
“There is nothing to worry about. There is nothing to worry about,” she repeated to herself.
She took a deep breath.
“There is nothing to worry abo…”
Chapter Five
Smash.
A fist came down hard between her shoulder blades.
Her keys and purse dropped to the ground.
Harper hadn't even heard the man walking behind her before he hit her.
She felt herself being dragged into the darkness of the alleyway and she used every ounce of strength in her body to kick and thrash and try to get away.
“Get off of me! Let me go!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Take my money. Whatever you want. It's in my purse!” Harper said, pointing over to where her leather purse had fallen to the ground.
“Scream again and see what happens.”
The man flashed a knife at her throat and pressed the sharp blade to her skin.
Harper lost her words as she stared at the knife.
“Pretty girl like you wouldn't want to end up on the coroner's table.”
He pulled the blade up tighter around her throat in warning.
The knife stung her neck and she could feel it cutting her with the fine edge as he pressed it into her skin.
Her heart was racing and she was starting to panic.
His free hand ran up her bare leg caressing her smooth thigh and pulling her panties down over the swell of her hips.
“Don't do anything stupid now,” he growled in her ear.
The man's breath smelled like whiskey and cigarettes and his hands were rough and dirty on her legs as he ran them up and down her body.
She would have given him anything she had just so that he would let her go, but he didn't seem interested in her money... only her body.
Tears streamed down her cheeks but she didn't dare make another sound.
She felt defeated.
Helpless.
She stared at the pepper spray on her keychain twenty feet away willing it with her mind to come bouncing over and spray the bastard in the face for her.
Harper tried to control her breathing and keep from jumping under his touch.
Each time she wriggled the knife against her throat cut a little deeper.
She had never been so terrified in all of her life and she was starting to wonder what was going to happen when the man was done with her.
Would he let her go?
Would he kill her and leave her there to try to hide what he had done?
Would he even feel bad about it?
Tears started welling up in her eyes as she thought about all of the scenarios that could come into play with this horrible man.
She was suddenly blinded by someone's headlights shining down the dark alley, illuminating them like a savior's spotlight straight from heaven and the sound of a car door opening broke the silence.
“Hey!” A loud male voice bellowed “Get off the girl, asshole!” The man from the car yelled.
The guy hesitated for a second as if he were debating whether he could take the guy in the car or haul Harper away with him but finally let her go and took off running down the alley into the darkness.
Both of Harper's hands immediately went to her throat to check how bad the cut was.
She was relieved to be able to breathe freely again and the cut didn't seem to be too bad from what she could tell by feeling it with her fingers.
It didn't seem to be life threatening, probably no worse than she had done to her own fingers in the kitchen any of the few and far between times she ventured in there to do more than microwave something or grab a drink.
There was blood on her hands when she pulled them back and she could feel a small tickling sensation as a little drop made its way down her neck and started it's course down the curve of her chest.
The man jogged over to her and pulled her into his arms as she shook and nearly collapsed.
Reality was sinking in that she had just been attacked and nearly raped by a strange man on the way home.
“You’re bleeding. Hey, you're going to be okay though,” he whipped off his tie that was only loosely draped around his neck and used it to wipe away the blood and inspect the thin cut on her throat.
He had a gentle touch and not being alone at the moment made her feel better even if she didn't know who he was.
Though... his voice did sound a little familiar.
Her brain wasn't working enough to make the connections needed to place him.
All she knew was he was the reason she was still alive.
She could be dead right now.
Someone would have found her beaten, bruised and abused body in this dirty alley tomorrow morning when the shops opened… and that thought hit her like a ton of bricks.
Harper felt like she couldn't breathe.
She couldn't catch her breath no matter how hard she tried to pull the air into her lungs.
The air wasn't getting to her lungs in and out like she needed it to and each breath seemed to only make it more difficult to take the next.
Harper felt her hands go clammy and sweat dripped down her back.
“Whoa, hey. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. In through your nose then out of your mouth. Slow and deep. In,” he did the breathing with her. “And out,” he whooshed out his cinnamon scented breath.
Harper listened to him and started to feel a little better.
Her breathing slowed and the air felt like it was reaching her lungs again.
At least she could breathe now.
The man helped her out to where her purse was laying and crouched down to hand it to her and handed her the keys and pepper spray that had done her no
good.
“Thank you,” she told the man taking her purse and stuffing the worthless pepper spray into the front pouch.
Of all the times she had gone over in her head how she would react if someone tried to attack her and she had practiced with the pepper spray and the self defense moves, when it actually happened in real life, none of her made up scenarios where she had kicked villain ass actually worked.
Harper thought about how close it had come to being the last thing that had ever happened to her.
“Thank you so much for showing up when you did and chasing him away,” Harper said, looking up to the guy in the semi darkness.
She really did owe the man her life for showing up when he did.
It was like fate that he came down the deserted road this late at night, right when she needed him the most.
“No problem, I'm just glad I showed up when I did. I was on my way home and saw something going on when I was coming up the street,” he told her, shrugging.
The guy was sweet and gentle with her and didn't play the role of the hero even though he deserved to be able to do that.
“Let's get you over into the light if that's okay,” he guided her a few steps closer to his car and the still blindingly bright headlights.
“Oh. I know you,” she said slowly looking up into his face as it was illuminated by the headlights.
Her brain finally made the connection as to why his voice sounded familiar to her.
Chapter Six
“Beau Donovan...”
She looked up into his eyes and almost couldn't believe the arrogant guy from the office was the same sweet man who chased off her attacker and sacrificed his tie to clean her wounds.
“Harper?” he asked, shielding his eyes from the brightness with his hand. “Oh, now I'm twice as happy that I showed up.”
Harper raised her eyebrow, wondering what exactly she was supposed to make of that statement.
“No, it's just that… I mean… I wouldn't want something to happen to someone I know. Not that I would want something to happen to anyone else. But… wow. That just didn't come out right at all,” Beau laughed, embarrassed at his stumbling.
Harper couldn't help but laugh and it felt good to be able to laugh after what had just happened.
“I know what you mean,” she told him.
“Let me take you home, Harper,” he said using his chin to lift her face so he could look down into her eyes.
“Okay,” she wasn't about to argue with him and she honestly didn’t want to walk the rest of the way home.
She was too shaken up to think about walking the rest of the distance even with the shortcut.
“Why were you walking out here anyway? Something happen to your car?” Beau asked, opening the door for her.
“I was hyped up on coffee and thought the exercise would help make me tired enough to sleep so I wouldn't be up all night... a lot of good that did me though,” she looked at herself in the side mirror and winced.
It wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be and thankfully the initial sting of the cut was fading and a low throbbing was taking over and placing itself in the background.
“I think you might have burned off a bit of that caffeine and once the adrenaline bottoms out, you might find you're more tired than you think you are,” Beau said starting the car.
“Honestly, I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep tonight,” Harper admitted in a low voice.
“That's understandable. You need to make a call to the police and report it too,” Beau suggested.
Harper sighed.
She hadn't thought about all of that but he was right she needed to make the call and the police report.
The guy had been in the shadows most of the time but she could still make out his features fairly well for the dim lighting and if she could take some scum off of the streets, she was going to do it.
“Is it okay if I make the call now so that when the officers show up to take the report, I don't have to wait around for an hour for them to show?” Harper asked.
“Be my guest,” Beau said “Here. Use this.”
He handed her his cellphone.
When she pushed the button and brought the screen up, she was greeted with a picture of Beau rolling in the grass with two pit-bull dogs licking his face. She smiled and the picture made her feel warm inside.
'Any man who loves animals has good in him,' she thought and dialed 911.
Harper whispered her address to Beau while she was waiting for the operator to pick up and they drove through the city to her apartment while she made her initial report and, as she had suspected, they told her an officer would be out to take her statement when one was available.
They pulled up outside of the brick building and Harper wasn’t sure what Beau would think of where she lived.
She was sure with all of his money he lived in a much nicer area and probably had his own home somewhere.
“I'll stay with you while you make your report with the police,” Beau said and got out of the car, rounding it to open her door.
“That’s sweet of you, but I'm sure you need to get home,” Harper said earnestly.
“To what?”
Harper wasn't sure what to say to that.
She shrugged. “Your dogs?”
“Those are my brother's dogs you saw on my phone.”
“Girlfriend or wife?”
“I don't have a girlfriend or a wife.”
“Sleep?”
“Sleep can wait or be forgotten about for the night. Wouldn't be the first time and sure won't be the last that I pull an all nighter,” Beau smiled.
He genuinely wanted to make sure that she was alright and taken care of.
Maybe she had been wrong about Beau Donovan and his arrogance and self-centered machismo that she had thought consumed every fiber of his being.
Chapter Seven
Harper led the way up the narrow staircase with the loose handrails to the third floor where her apartment sat in the dead center of the hallway. To her disdain the hall still smelled like curry and something else she wasn't wholly sure how to identify.
She unlocked the door and went inside to make sure the apartment wasn't a total wreck.
Not that the two steps ahead of Beau would give her much time to whip it into shape if it was.
Beau looked around her apartment.
It was a small place in an old building but it was full of charm and the kind of architecture that he had grown up in when he was a kid living in a similar apartment a few streets down from here.
There were several pieces of framed artwork hanging on the walls and a few more that were leaning against walls waiting to be hung.
She had a small television that looked like she probably never turned it on and her furniture was nice but a little outdated... it may have even been outdated when she was born.
The apartment and the furniture made Beau feel at home.
It was comfortable and worn or ‘Well lived in’ like his mother liked to call their old house.
“Have a seat,” Harper gestured to the couch. “Can I interest you in joining me in a hard cider? I don't know about you but I could definitely use a drink after tonight.”
She kicked off her heels next to the door and wiggled her toes, stretching them out and enjoying being freed from the uncomfortable shoes.
“Sounds perfect, thanks,” Beau said, sitting down on the old tan and brown couch and eyeing her collection of books that overflowed from the bookcase that loomed over everything else in the small room.
The woman had a varied taste in reading material.
Beau looked over some of the authors on the spines and recognized a few but most of them left him pretty clueless, especially when they went towards the romance genre.
He'd leave that up to her but he was more than up for some of the horror books she had and maybe even a few of the biographies.
Everything from Penny Ward to Nelson Mandela spanned her shelves and many
of them had creases in the spine like she had read them over and over again throughout the years.
He had always had a soft spot for a woman who liked to read.
Beau heard a couple of pops and Harper came out of the kitchen wielding two bottles of Angry Orchard and a bag of chips under her left arm.
Taking the bottle, he thanked her and she sat down in her recliner next to the couch before opening the chips and setting them on her squat little coffee table she had gotten from the flea market in Seattle when she was in college.
“Listen, I really appreciate you staying here with me while we wait for the police, Beau,” Harper took a swig of her cider. “You really didn't need to do that and I think that's really sweet of you.”
“I couldn't just leave you,” Beau said. “I just think about what I would want if something happened to me. Would I want to sit alone in my apartment wondering where the creep was who had just tried to take a chunk out of me? No. I'd want to be hanging out with a friend having a drink and forgetting about the whole thing.”
“To forgetting that creeps exist in this world,” she said toasting and clinking bottles with him, a smile crossing her face again as she took a sip.
Beau couldn't get over how beautiful she looked sitting there drinking her hard cider after fighting off some loser on the street.
The girl had a lot of guts and knew how to handle herself.
“So, tell me about yourself,” she said, curling her feet up under her in the recliner and facing him. “Just tell me something that will take my mind off tonight.”
“What do you want to know?” Beau asked.
He leaned back and waited for the questions about how he had started in soccer or how much money he had made in his career.
The same thing every other female that asked him that question wanted to know.
“Where did you grow up? Do you still have family here? And why were you out on the street in the middle of the night driving around a bad part of town?” she asked, resting her arm holding her drink over her knee and letting it dangle.
“Well, quite a few questions there,” Beau was surprised by her choices. “Um, alright. Well I was born in San Diego. My family moved my brother and myself to New York City when I was ten. So I guess I grew up between the two. I still have both of my parents living here in the city but they don't live together anymore. They separated when I was fourteen and divorced a few months later.”