“Help!” How the word came from me, I have no idea. The first time I screamed it, the expressions on the faces of the men who’d followed me changed, these four young, drunk men who had waited for me to get out of my car so they could follow me and trap me. The second time I screamed out toward the stray voice I heard in the distance, I took half a step forward, feeling the adrenaline in my blood urging me to fight back. I knew someone was there; I just didn’t know if they would come and help me. I knew I couldn’t help myself though. I knew whatever happened if they didn’t save me, was going to be horrific. So I screamed louder and louder, begging for help until my voice was raw.
The closest man grabbed me, trying to cover my mouth and I fought the best I could. I remember the way his grimy hand felt over my face. I bit him, scratched him, kicked out and hit his shin. The next time I screamed for help, the word was ragged and hot tears were streaming down my cheeks. He was so much bigger than me.
I was tired and weak, and I was so fucking scared.
I didn’t have to keep fighting though. There were only three guys down the street who had heard me, but they came.
My knights in shining armor were older than me, but younger than the guys who’d tried to hurt me. They were all wearing the same jacket and one of them threw his off as he saw what was happening and ran. His muscles bulged under the streetlight and the asshole who still had his hands on me, released me to take off. He hopped over the side fence and I thought my rescuer would do the same the way he was running, but he stopped short as my shoulders jerked forward and I dry-heaved.
I got sick right there. Maybe from the shock or the horror. Maybe because I hadn’t eaten. Still, I didn’t feel embarrassed or ashamed, because fear clung to me, just like the feeling of that man’s hands on me.
Eight nights alone and living with anger and sorrow had been hell, but that night was disgust and fear in a way I’d never felt before. With the shock came the need to throw up. I didn’t have anything in me though.
I still remember the way my hero stared at me when I finally lifted my head to look at who had rescued me, the way he pulled back my hair and told me it was all right. He was beautiful, and I was haggard and covered in filth.
“What’s your name?” he asked me.
There was a comfort to his tone, his touch. I knew I was disgusting in every sense of the word. I was shaken up, horrified and questioning everything. I hadn’t bathed in three days since the last time I was able to use the showers in the locker room at school, I’d peed on myself and my clothes were dirty. Fuck, it was the lowest point in my entire life. Rock bottom had a new meaning for me that night.
He didn’t seem to notice or care about any of that, and when he talked to me and put his hand on my arm to comfort me, I didn’t either.
“Sophie,” I breathed my name and told him, “Sophie Miller.”
He offered me the kindest smile, and all the while he rubbed soothing circles along my back. I kept shaking; I couldn’t stop, even if inside I felt so warm with him holding me the way he was. “I’m Madox and these are my friends, Cody and Ryan.” My gaze shifted to the other guys, both of them watching me and instinctively, I moved closer to Madox.
Madox. The name itself sounded powerful and protective. I whispered it and then looked back up at him. It was a sin to look at him the way I was in that moment. I knew I shouldn’t, that I was going to hurt later but just before I could tear my gaze away, he smiled at me. One of those sweet smiles that’s genuine and steals all your worries from you.
“Sophie’s a beautiful name.” The way he said it, I felt beautiful. I felt like someone else. I felt like the night hadn’t happened the way it did. The moment was over quickly, with the sound of the other guys quieting down and the sight of them keeping their distance.
I didn’t question him at all when he told me, “Come on.” I was grateful when he wrapped the jacket he’d thrown down before around my shoulders.
The scent comes back to me at the thought; he smelled clean but woodsy as he held me close to his side. His hands were strong and warm, and he was taller and far more dominating than the other men, but there wasn’t an ounce of fear in me.