Savior

Trembling, I stare out the foggy Greyhound bus window. I am well aware of the fact it was just a dream, and that I am in fact safe on my way home right now. That seems to be the motto these days, life’s a b***h after all. Nothing is fair anymore. It’s been a pretty good night at the club after all. I made over two thousand tonight and that’s not counting my bar tips from this afternoon. Rent and electricity will definitely be paid, I think sourly to myself. I glance down at my phone to see it’s a little past four a.m. The club was so packed the bouncers were having to kick the customer’s drunk asses out on to the curb at 3:30 am. They never want to leave but then again, why would they? Leaving would mean they have to return to reality and deal with their bitchy wives and fake lives. Poor pitiful men, I roll my eyes. It must be a shame that they have to lead a pretend life of luxury and bitches falling to f**k them every chance they get. That b***h will never be me, never again. I take a deep breath, trying to not hyperventilate as the memories start to assault me. ......………………………………….. 4 months ago… I lay shivering on the bathroom floor listening to the approaching footsteps. It has always been like this, for years. I can remember the apologies and I’ll do better gifts. I recall the gut-wrenching pain of another woman’s face. It never mattered; it all ended the same. I taste the salty blood as it drips down the back of my throat, I don’t dare move. I am almost certain I have at least two broken ribs and deep tissue bruising. I’m sure Ryan will call the physician for a house visit to glue the pieces back together. He was always good for that, never said a word about the broken woman he stitched back together to know she would fall apart again, worse the next time. I can barely see Ryan come into view through my swollen eye as I start to try to sit up. “You look so pretty in your pain, sweetheart,” He whispers as he kneels down beside my legs. I whimper as he grips the back of my neck, lifting me up onto my screaming tail bone. “It would be such as waste…” He doesn’t continue his sentence as his lips meet mine. The blood never bothered him even though it twists my stomach inside out. “Brock will be here shortly, so I might as well get something out of what this is about to cost me.” His grip on my throat tightens as he takes what he wants. I see black spots creeping into the room and willingly give into the darkness. The night never bothered me anyway. ........………………………………….. Air rushes my lungs as I force myself back to life and pull the cord to stop the bus. I need to get some fresh air, even if it’s not my stop, I can’t stay on this bus any longer. I nod my head at the bus driver as I throw my backpack over my shoulder and exit down the bus stairs. It’s windy out tonight and is surprisingly cool for the season. I pull my jacket up over my throat and silently thank myself for leaving my hair down earlier. I’m starting to regret getting off the bus seeing as I have another half a mile to my apartment. Pulling my hood up, I take notice of my surroundings cursing the city for not providing decent streetlamps. The ones available are consistently shorting out. Perfect for a damsel in distress who has nothing to save anymore. Suddenly I feel a hand on my bicep spinning me around so hard my hair slaps my face in the wind. I would scream but my throat closes up before I can even think to carry out the notion. The face is thankfully unfamiliar though the intended malice is no different. “Hand over the bag miss.” The gruff voice rasps out. I don’t even have to look down to know he has a gun pressed into my stomach right now. “Don’t make a mistake we’ll both regret, I don’t want to shoot you.” “It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s pushed a gun into my body, mister. You won’t be the last I can promise you that.” My response seems to take him off guard just enough for me to slam my foot down on his and send my fist into his throat. Blood spews from his mouth as he drops to his knees, the gun falling to the floor just in my reach. I yank it up and point it at him, removing the safety not chancing the risk of him lurching at me. I lick my lips, tasting the sweetness of his blood splattered on my mouth. My mouth aches as I try to hold back the darkness in my mind. My heart is beating in my throat as I feel the tears stream down my cheeks. You can't run from what you are, what i've made you Evelyn. His voice rings in my ears as I manage to choke out, “Get the f**k away from me.” “Why you bi – ,” He started but a voice sounded behind me, sending chills up my spine. “Is that anyway to treat a lady, Marcus?” He spoke. “We’ve been here before, ya know?” He shoulders past me and kneels down to the man on the ground ignoring the fact the gun I’m holding is now pointed at the back of his head. “Do you remember what I said would happen if I caught you here again?” The man called Marcus begins to plead with his life as if he weren’t just threatening mine. What a p***y. The strange man is still talking to Marcus as I study his back. He's wearing a black t shirt that matches his black gauges and jeans. The tattoos work intrinsically up from his spine and out of the sleeves of his shirt across the tops of his hands. His hair tangled in ways I want to run my hands through. My mouth waters at the thought and I immediately attempt to snap my mind out of it. What is wrong with me?! “You can put the gun down now, love.” He speaks softly. I realize I’ve been standing her staring, mouth agape, like love struck high school fool. He’s barely looking over his shoulder as if I’m not even worth his full attention. I don’t understand why that irritates me; I don’t even know him. The wind blows the fresh scent of his body wash and cologne overwhelming my senses once again. I can hear his pulse beating against his throat as he turns and delivers a crushing blow to the man named Marcus. Slowly stands, wiping the blood onto his jeans from his knuckles. My breath leaves me as he turns to finally fully face me. “Hand over the gun, love.” I slowly click the safety on and hand it over like a obedient slave. His fingers find themselves under my chin as he lifts my head so my eyes can meet his. His eyes are colored hazel brown with long lashes to fill them out. He stares daggers through my blue ones as I try to remember what breathing is like. Hell, what thinking for myself is like. I try to get a handle on myself before I truly reveal everything that I’ve worked so hard to suppress. Again, what is wrong with me right now?! “I think I can count on you not mentioning this encounter ever again, am I right?” “Yes.” I manage as his piercing eyes hold mine. He smirks and I start to snap out of my drunken haze. “You look like someone who knows plenty of untold secrets, love.” That brings me down out of my darken cloud and I jerk my head from his grasp. “I didn’t need your help; I could have handled him on my own. Thanks.” I readjust my backpack on my shoulder and start to walk off when I feel him grab me, spinning me around to meet his gaze once again. I narrow my eyes, “What do you need something, too? Do I need to shoot you, too?” He chuckles as if I am some weak child and runs his thumb down my now tear stained cheek. “If I needed something it wouldn’t be your bag, love. If you even so much as think of pointing that gun at me again, the rewards are endless for me.” “And for me?” I whisper. He smirks, “You, love, will be crawling on your knee’s begging for release before I spank your pretty ass blue. How is that my dear?” My silence must tell more than words can because he pulls away leaving nothing but cold air in his wake. I can’t ignore the repulsive ache between my thighs as I glare at him. The darkness is starting to boil over and I know I must get out of here before I screw everything up. “Go on, run little doe. Let’s see how far you get before I catch you.” My body suddenly snaps back into reality as I jerk to life. I spin around and haul ass to my beaten down apartment, which now looks like a heaven made fortress. I fumble with my keys as I race up the stairs and practically beat down my door. Slamming it behind me, I slide down the wall letting the tears finally escape. Waiting for the inevitable beating on the door that I’m finding will never come.