Painted Memories (39 page)

Finally, after a few more minutes, they ambled to the counter to pay for their food. After a few whistles and kissy faces later, they were gone and Clair released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She had a bad feeling about them. Clair watched them through the window as they crossed the street, but it wasn’t until they were in the shadows, away from the diner before Clair felt more comfortable.

Stuffed from dinner, Clair gathered her things and noticed the clock on the diner’s wall. Eleven. She knew she needed to find a place to sleep for the night and decide where she wanted to go from here. From the looks of the empty shops, Clair wasn’t sure she’d have much luck finding work. She wasn’t looking for your normal eight-to-five. Clair needed a more stable living situation then she presently had, to work those kinds of hours. She learned from past attempts that she could fool people for a while about her living arrangements, but eventually, someone always found out. And that was always her cue to move on to the next town. After getting caught a few times, side jobs were her best bet. She walked for several blocks before noticing just how deserted the streets were. An orange glow cast dark shadows between each lamppost, and not a soul walked the streets. She didn’t remember it being that way. Even for the late hour, tourists were always milling around in this town.

As Clair strolled down the sidewalk, she stopped suddenly when she heard laughter behind her. Turning, two people walked behind her on the opposite side of the street. One whistled and called out to her and she sensed it was one of the same guys from the diner. Panic overtook her. The hair on her arms stood up as she wondered what they might do, if anything. Adrenaline pumping, Clair turned and walked faster. She hoped to put more distance between them and her, but she could hear their laughter getting louder. Directly behind her now, her heart raced, anticipating their confrontation. She tried to cross to the other side of the street, but her legs trembled and she felt weak as her body panicked.

“Hey! Don’t you hear us talking to you?” One of the guys half-yelled to her, grabbing her arm. ”We just want to talk.”

Clair snatched her arm away, giving the guy a disgusted look. She looked him over. He wore an orange, collared shirt, and pressed khaki pants. His hair was combed down, not a strand out of place. He didn’t look like a creep, but Clair knew guys like him came wrapped in all different packages.

“Don’t touch me,” she seethed, “I heard you just fine. If I wanted to talk, I would have acknowledged you. Leave me alone.”

“Oh c’mon, baby, don’t be like that. You’re not lost, are you? Girls out this late and all alone are only looking for one thing… I’m sure we can help you find what you’re looking for.”

Clair kept walking, ignoring his comments, but then she felt him run his hand down the back of her hair. She spun around and pushed him in the chest. “I told you to leave me alone!”

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, “What do
ya think, Chris? Are you feeling adventurous tonight?”

“I don’t know, Paul. I mean, last time it was fun, but what if we get caught? I’m not down for doing jail time again. I just got out, and I don’t need to piss my parole officer off again. I’m not going back in, I can’t risk it. Plus, you said
last
time was the last time.”

Clair tried to pull away from Paul, but he only tightened his grasp. Panic filled her. Her heart pounded in her chest. The sound thrummed loudly in her ears, and she knew she was in trouble.
They had done this before
. Clair looked around, but couldn’t spot anyone who could help her.

“Come on, man… don’t be such a downer. We always get away with it. Plus, just look at her.” Paul reached around and grabbed her butt. “You should feel how tight her ass is; you know you want some.”

They were talking about her as if she weren’t there and, the more they talked, the more her skin crawled. She had to get away. With her free hand, she swung fast and slapped Paul across the cheek. He didn’t even flinch, but his eyes grew wide with surprise before they turned to an angry glare.

“Oh, I see you like to play rough, huh?”

With his other hand, he gripped her throat and forced her up against the brick wall of a boarded-up shop. Clair grabbed his hand, gasping for breath as she tried to pry his fingers off her neck. She tried to scream, but her voice trailed off when he clamped down.

Paul released his hold on her neck and brushed her cheek with the back of his other hand. “Now, if you promise to be quiet, I can make this much more enjoyable for you.”

His touch made her feel sick. She turned her head and bit his hand, her teeth sinking deep. He tried to pull away, but she could taste his blood and it filled her with crazed anger. She tore at him savagely, but suddenly, her head was thrown back and a sharp pain shot through it.

“Fuck! You bit me. It’s going to be fun fucking you,” he said with a menacing grin as he released the hold on her neck and grabbed her wrists.

Clair swung her arms frantically, squirming between the wall and his weight against her. She managed to evade his grasp and attempted to run, but he was too fast. He snatched her back with a handful of her hair.

“HELP!” she screamed.

Her cry was cut off when Paul backhanded her across the mouth. She stumbled to the side, lost her balance, and fell forward, stopping herself from doing a faceplant with her hands. Paul knelt in front of her and pushed her shoulders back, forcing her to lie on the sidewalk. Straddling her waist, he held her wrists above her head and she could feel his hardness pressing against her hips. Clair retched. As he pressed his finger to her cracked lip, she winced. The taste of her own blood ran across her tongue.

Smiling at her pain, he slid his finger down her neck. “If you scream and try to run again, you’ll have a lot more to worry about
than me fucking you. Do you understand me?”

Clair nodded.

“Good girl,” he said, smiling.

His hands mauled her breasts and she could feel his heavy breathing hot on her neck. Clair wanted to fight, but she was no match for him, and she didn’t want to add “dead” to his list of felonies. There was a tearing sound and she felt a cool draft of air across her exposed chest. She turned her head to the side and saw the other guy leaning against the wall, watching them. She caught his eye and detected no trace of compassion on his face. He smiled at her and Clair realized then, if she stopped resisting, it would be over soon. She tried not to think about what he was doing, but his touch was rough and hungry as he ripped her bra away, mashing each breast in the palm of his hand. He squeezed them hard, groaning with pleasure.

The other guy prodded Paul with the toe of his boot. “What the fuck, man? Hurry up!”

“What? Can’t you see I’m having my moment? Back the fuck up or watch. I don’t give a shit. Just shut up and keep a look out.”

“Whatever, man. Remember this isn’t a love session. Hurry up and do her so I can get my turn.”

“Please, don’t do this,” Clair cried. “Get off me.” She wiggled her body, trying to escape, but her hands were pinned beneath his legs.

“I told you to hold still!” he yelled slapping her across the face. The force whipped her head to the side and the taste of blood filled her mouth once more.

Clair gritted her teeth, waiting for it to be over. He pulled at the zipper of her pants in an attempt to pull her pants down from
around her hips. Clair closed her eyes, refusing to look at his face. She swallowed a scream, forcing back the pain of his weight against her body, her back aching against the concrete. Her eyes shot open when a deep voice boomed behind her in the dark.

“Hey! Get your hands off her.”

***

W
ant more? Check out Loni’s website at
http://www.loniflowers.com/
on where you can purchase her books.

L
oni Flowers lives in Eastern North Carolina with her husband; two wild toddlers, who never slow down for a second; and three couch-potato dogs, who only raise an eye when foods around. She spends her days working a full-time professional job and her nights writing… if she’s not playing on the internet.
Besides her family, reading and writing are her passions. Contemporary romance is her writing genre of choice, but she's not opposed to writing something different should an excellent idea strike.
You can connect with Loni at the following locations to see what project she’s working on next or just so say “Hi!”

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