Page 14 of Unbridled Fire
She lived in a nondescript apartment building, and I wondered if she ever thought about moving somewhere quieter. Safer. Farther away from the dangerous world she inhabited. I absolutely hated that Michael paid for her apartment, but that was just my ego getting in the way as it often did. Why shouldn’t he pay? She did an excellent job maintaining his business affairs, and it saved her money.
Because you don’t want her living in another man’s house.
The words filtered through my head as I walked to my car, true to their core. If we lived in a different world, I’d love to be the man who took care of her...supported her...lovedher.
Sliding behind the wheel, I ran a hand through my hair and gazed at my eyes in the mirror. “Get it together, man. She’s not right for you.”
It was the same lie I always told myself. The one I pretended to believe.
Starting the car, I headed to her neighborhood, just to see if I could catch a glimpse of her to make sure she was safe...and that she didn’t do anything dangerous, like try to track down the hacker.
I sat outside for a while, watching her apartment entrance, hoping she was home safely. After a while, I reached for the key to start the car, and my eyes darted back to her apartment entrance. She stepped outside, dressed in black sneakers and leggings, a dark hoodie covering her red hair. She hopped into a rideshare and I frowned.
Unable to help myself, I started the car and followed her, unable to squash the uneasy feeling that settled over me...
Chapter 7
Katia
Istrode down the sidewalk, my black hoodie covering my long red hair. I’d worn sneakers, and they were silent on the cement. My driver had dropped me off a few blocks away, and the sun was just beginning to set. I walked to the back of the apartment building on the corner of Brighton First Street and Neptune Ave, hiding behind the dumpster as I scanned the sidewalk in front of the building’s entrance.
Nothing stuck out, and I wondered what the hell I was doing. What had I expected when I actually found the hacker? Was I going to tackle him on the street and demand he stop trying to frame me and Michael?
I had no idea. Some small part of me just wanted to see the person who wanted to ruin my life. Maybe, if I had the chance, I could talk some sense into him.
A tall, skinny frame turned the corner, and I inhaled a sharp breath. The kid looked to be about sixteen, and he wore a hoodie above dark, ripped jeans and weathered Converse sneakers. He entered the building and I debated running after him. Washethe hacker?
Suddenly, I heard a shuffle behind me, and I turned to two large men standing in the alley between the apartment building and the house next door. They leered at me and my heart leapt into my throat.
I pivoted and began walking down the sidewalk, noticing how dark it was getting. The neighborhood was fairly nice, and ifI screamed, someone inside could possibly hear me and run out. Reaching into the pocket of my hoodie, I clutched my pepper spray. If one of these bastards tried to jump me, they’d be sorry.
“Where you going?” one man asked, his voice ominous. “We don’t see pretty ladies like you lurking around here often.”
“My Uber’s already arrived,” I lied, turning back to face them. “They’ll call the police if I don’t show up.”
“I doubt that, lady,” one of the men said, grabbing my arm. He swung me around and I jerked my arm away.
“Don’t fucking touch me!”
“We just want your phone and your wallet,” the other man said.
“No.”
The first man reached for me, and I knocked his hand away using one of the karate moves I’d learned in one of my self-defense classes.
“She’s feisty,” he said, shooting an evil grin toward his counterpart. “We should take her back to the alley and have some fun with her first.”
Knowing I had the chance to take a surprise offensive, I reached into my pocket and gripped the pepper spray. Pulling it out, I sprayed the first man; his scream echoing as he covered his eyes and backed away. The second man lunged toward me and somehow knocked the spray out of my hand.
We began to struggle, and he slid behind me. His arms surrounded my waist, and I kicked and struggled as he carried me back to the alley. Once there, he pushed me up against the apartment building, my face scraping the brick as I tried to scream.
“This won’t take long,” he said, holding me with one arm as he reached for the waist of my yoga pants. “Stop struggling, bitch!”
He began to yank my pants down, and I thrust my head back, connecting with his nose. He yelled and lifted his hand to my throat, squeezing hard as I began to choke.
“You broke my nose, you fucking whore!” His fist clenched tighter as I struggled to breathe. “I’ll fucking kill you.”
Suddenly, I heard a shuffle beside the dumpster, and a low voice growled, “Take your hands off her or you die. Now!”
