Taming The Ruthless Executioner

Chapter 3: In His Arms

Ashley's POV

Just when I had given up all hope of getting help, the harasser flung off me, tumbling over the pavement. His knife hit the ground making clattering noises, but that didn't seem to catch my attention.

There was this tall, muscular figure now standing in front of me, he just kept staring at me as I curled myself into a ball, trying to fight the cold. The streetlight shone on his face, highlighting his stature.

He was wearing a regular T-shirt, revealing the shape of his broad shoulders, huge chest and handsome face. I swear, my mouth would've fallen ajar if my knee wasn't underneath it.

'Snap out of your daze, Ashley', someone just tried to r**e you, dwell on that a little. I removed my gaze from his, when a voice cut through the silence from behind him.

"Who the f**k are you? You'd better leave while you still have the chance. Or I'll cut your throat." He commanded.

It's that pervert, I thought he'd have run away by now. He was holding the knife threateningly at the man who had just rescued me.

I was unsure of how the fight would turn out, but I knew it wasn't going to end well for my rescuer. But instead of panicking, he bursts out in laughter.

Yes, he was laughing at the pervert holding the knife.

Is this another mentally deranged person? Gosh! Why is this happening to me?

"Drop the knife, before you hurt yourself." He commanded. His bold, godlike voice expressed his confidence.

Damn! His face, his build and now, his voice. He seems too perfect to be real, is this a dream?

I watched intently as the fight unfolded, it wasn't even a fight, it was a beat down. The stranger disarmed him, effortlessly catching hold of his wrist.

Here I sat, being rescued by a tall, muscular guy who knew how to fight, it seemed like my day turned out to be wonderful after all.

I ought to have been scared, considering what had almost happened to me. But his presence made me feel safe, there was something about his eyes I just couldn't explain, they're gentle…

My heart skipped a beat when the sound of bones being broken, pierced through the night, followed by the pervert's screams. But my hero stood still, staring right into his eyes. He seemed to be finding pleasure from inflicting pain on the latter. Isn't that sadism?

Then he hurled the guy onto the ground and dragged him towards me, placing the edge of the knife on his head.

What the hell is he doing? Aren't we supposed to call the cops?

My heart began to pace when he started speaking, his voice sounded like a god's, more like a demon's. His pupils shrunk, and he kept his eyes wide open, staring intently at the point at which he dug the knife.

He was literally about to kill the guy, by piercing the knife into his skull.

I thought he'd stop at some point, but he just kept going, until blood began to flow out of the pervert's head.

"I am Judge, Jury and Executioner." He ended, still staring at the bleeding harasser.

I can't stand blood, my eyes widened as I stared at them. The sight caused me to gasp for breath, but for some reason, I couldn't look away. I think I'm having a panic attack.

"Please stop, just let him go." I heard myself say.

He immediately stopped to look at me. I pleaded the second time with our gaze still locked, and those handsome eyes returned, it was as if he had become a different person.

He straightened up, allowing the pervert to escape, and approaching me like some kind of robot. At that moment, I knew that I wanted nothing to do with him, he's a psychopath, I've had enough of his kind in one day.

"What's your name?" He asked, as his gaze shifted and fell on my torn shirt.

"Ashley Manhattan." I answered.

"Do you have a place to stay, or do you plan to sleep out here, in the cold?"

I started contemplating the idea of accepting help from this stranger, even before he had offered it.

But he's crazy, probably a serial killer who murders criminals. Isn't that a good thing?

Damn, it's cold out here, I wonder why my butt is shivering this much. That's when I felt a wetness underneath my skirt, a liquid surrounded the spot on which I sat.

Shit! I urinated all over myself, still unsure of the time at which it happened. Was it during the harassment? Or was it the sight of blood?

Either way I can't let him notice it, that would be too embarrassing to bear.

"I'll be fine, thanks for the help." I whispered, loud enough for him to hear. "You should go."

He turned away, took out his phone and held it up to his ear, whispering over the phone.

I thought those words were enough to dismiss him, but a part of me wished he would insist on helping, and he did, just not in the way I had expected.

He bent down towards me, slowly reaching out his hands underneath my body.

"What are you doing? Let go of me." I screamed as I tried to fight off his grip, but he wouldn't stop.

He scooped me off the ground into arms, wedging my behind, with his right knee. For a brief moment, I felt his d**k brushing my ass as he lifted me.

I immediately threw my arms around his neck, afraid he might drop me when he feels the wetness of my skirt, soaked with urine.

But he didn't, one of his arms was beneath my back and the other was underneath my skirt. There was this pause when he lifted me at first, but he didn't say anything. He just started walking down the street, holding me in the air like I had no weight.

I could literally hear the sound of the liquid trickling from my laps, down to the road, I'm sure he could hear it too. And even if he didn't, he must've felt the droplets that landed on his pants, so embarrassing.

I couldn't dare to catch a glimpse of his face. If only I had a veil to cover my appearance so he wouldn't have to look at me.

I could hear the thrum of his heartbeats and feel the heat emitted from his well built body as I pressed my head against his chest, still trying not to make eye contact. It's huge and solid, blending with his muscular arms that were underneath me.

After about a minute of walking, we arrived at the main street, and almost immediately, a black car pulled up in front of us.

At first, I thought it was an uber, but the driver rushed down from his seat to meet us. He was clad in a purple suit with some touches of red, and a pair of glasses. He took off his suit, placing it over my body, it felt warm and had a sweet scent.

Then he pulled the car's door ajar, holding it open for us. The latter stooped low, gently placing me in the back seat. He shut the car door, entering the passenger seat next to the driver, and the car began moving.

Wait, where is he taking me? What if his niceness and care was just a strategy to kidnap me?