Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
From Catholic princess who did everything right, to a homeless couch surfer who had nothing. This was the fresh hell that had become my life.
I danced with my eyes closed until the lights came on and the late night stragglers, the ones going home alone or too trashed to realize the night was over, were herded out by curiously good looking bouncers.
“Hey sweetheart, let me buy you one last drink.” The voice was deep and smooth like butter, so I turned with a wobbly smile, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“Sure. I’m Bonnie.” He smiled, and I practiced my flirting as the crowd poured out around us.
“Steve.” He leaned in close, too close. But he was so handsome I kept getting distracted by his face instead of his roaming hands.
My head started to spin halfway through the last drink, and I knew it was time to leave. “Uhm, thanks for the drink Steve, but I have to get out of here.” I turned and fled with more drama than the situation probably required, but I felt him close behind me.
“Hey, come back here!”
Luckily, Colby, the hot bartender, stopped him, giving me enough time to get out of the club and the casino, where I started the path home.
In hindsight I should have taken Maisie up on her offer because walking home—if the hovel I rented by the week could be called a home—at two in the morning wasn’t the smartest idea I’d ever had.
I could have driven, but after the interrogation, I never wanted to see another police officer or detective again. The state I was in was a sure invitation to a night in the drunk tank. Calling an Uber would cost money I couldn’t afford to waste, not until I had steady income.
The small efficiency apartment I rented in downtown Glitz wasn’t what I had in mind for my first place. Still, it was all I could afford without going through my savings in a couple months.
Thankfully, my parents had left me with the car they’d gifted me in my last year of college, so I could make it to job interviews, not that anyone was interested in hiring someone who had been accused of murder. Even though it was all a farce.
“Hey sweetheart, let me take you for a ride on the bologna pony!” The deep crude voice pulled me from my thoughts, reminding me that I was no longer in the quiet, gated suburban neighborhood I grew up in. This was the city. Dirty and gritty and filled with all types of people.
“No thanks,” I called out in the direction I thought his voice came from and picked up my speed on the trash-lined street, as much as I could after six drinks and a line of coke.
It felt like someone was following me even though I knew that couldn’t be true, didn’t even really make sense. Yet, I felt it, and I walked so fast, I was almost running. I turned around a few times but saw nothing.
Then I turned around again and saw him. It was the man from the bar. He was grinning at me now, and I froze in place. I couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything. He came closer and I could smell the alcohol on his breath.
“Hey there, beautiful.” He slurred, and I wanted to vomit. I tried to push him away, but he was too strong. He grabbed my arm and pulled me close, his grip bruising. “You’ve been driving me crazy all night. I think I’m gonna fuck you right here.”
“No!” I tried to knee him in the groin, but he blocked me and chuckled.
“Oh, you’re a feisty one, aren’t you? I like that.”
I was so close, I could see the front door to my apartments, but his hand closed around my arm, yanking me back. I tried to scream and fight him off, but I was too drunk.
He slammed me against the wall and I felt something sharp slice into my skin. I cried out in pain as he kept pressing harder. Then his other hand went around my throat, choking me. I struggled to breathe as blackness started to close in around me.
Just as I was about to lose consciousness, I heard someone yell. The man swore and let go of me abruptly. I fell to the ground, my head hitting the concrete with a thud.
I tried to get up, but my head was spinning and my vision was blurred. I felt something warm running down my shoulder and realized I was bleeding.
I gasped for air while the man kicked me. Once, twice. I curled up into a ball to protect myself. He kicked me again and I yelped in pain.
His boots were hard. Dirty. They hit my ribs, my stomach. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All I could feel was the pain.