Resisting The BikerBy: Cassie Alexandra & K. L. Middleton
Looking forward to a quiet night, Jessica pushed the thoughts of her future step-dad away, and took the elevator to the third floor. Humming to herself, she walked down the hallway to her apartment, unlocked the door, and slipped inside. As she was about to turn the kitchen light on, someone grabbed her from behind, his arm locking around her like a steel vice. She tried to scream but it was immediately cut off by a gloved hand clamping over her mouth. The smell of leather and gasoline made her gag.
“Hello, Darlin’,” the man growled into her ear. He began groping her breasts. “Oh, these are nice.”
Sobbing, she tried struggling, but it only made him laugh. Desperate to get away, she tried biting his hand through the glove.
“Bitch,” he snarled, squeezing her mouth so hard, her jaw ached. “Fight me and you die. Understand?”
Whimpering, Jessica ignored his threat and slammed her elbow into his stomach, remembering the self-defense class she’d taken before college. The instructor had said to fight for your life, at any cost. Scream, kick, or do whatever it took to get away, or the chances of surviving were slim to none.
The man grunted, but instead of releasing her, he grabbed her by the throat and began to squeeze. “You think you have a chance against me, Bitch? You keep fighting, and I’ll snap your neck. Don’t you dare fucking test me!”
“Please… can’t… breathe…” she begged hoarsely.
He loosened his hold slightly. “You gonna behave?”
Her mind was whirling as she tried to think of another way of escape. The kitchen knives were too far out of reach and he was so strong. She’d never make it.
“Answer me, Bitch!” he hissed, pulling her hair back cruelly in his fist.
“Yes!” she cried.
“Okay, then,” he whispered, pushing her toward the bedroom. “Now, let’s go have us some fun.”
An hour later, Jessica heard him leave the apartment. Bloody and bruised, she staggered back to the kitchen, locking the door. Then, she grabbed her cell phone and called nine-one-one.
“I’ve been attacked. Raped,” she sobbed into the phone, her entire body shaking. She slid down to the floor, glancing at the doorway in terror, worried he’d bust it down and kill her. “Please… help me. I’m afraid he’ll come back.”
“We’re sending someone, right away,” the woman promised, trying to calm her down. “You are sure that the assailant has left?”
“Yes,” she replied, staring down at the bruises on her thighs, where he’d dug his fingers into her flesh. Between that and the burning pain between her legs, she wanted to die. She wanted him to die.
“Okay. The policed should be there soon,” reminded the operator. “I’ll stay on the phone with you until they arrive. Did you get a good look at the assailant?”
“He… he wore a mask. A black one.”
“Did you recognize his voice?”
“No. Nobody that I know would do this!”
“Okay. Try to calm down, Ms. Winters. Someone is coming.”
As Jessica waited for help to arrive, she closed her eyes, and began crying all over again. The woman on the phone tried soothing her, but all she could think about was the rapist’s evil brown eyes. She’d never forget them or his wormy dry, cracked lips. He’d made her stare up at him while he did the unspeakable. It seemed to get him off.
“You see me?” he’d growled, several times.
Jessica had seen him clearly. He was the devil. He even wore a patch on his vest that proved it.
“You ready for this?” asked Krystal, turning off the engine of her ’76 Monte Carlo. We’d just pulled into the parking lot of Griffin’s, a strip club on the edge of town. It was her twenty-first birthday and her boyfriend, the owner’s son, had asked us to meet him before we hooked up with the rest of our friends, downtown.
I looked at the seedy dive, with its flashing lights and line of shiny motorcycles parked on the side. I’d never been inside, but everyone knew that the place was bad news. I couldn’t even imagine the look on my mother’s face if she knew I was even considering going inside. She’d probably think I’d starting smoking crack.