Emma couldn’t stop shaking. Tremors shuddered through her as she recalled Maurice’s grimy, sticky hands grope all over her. His sweaty, greasy flesh pressed on hers, his sour, musty breath, the fetid scent of his skin… they enveloped her and she wanted to throw up. He was disgusting, inside and out.
Will sat her in the passenger seat of his car. His suit jacket wrapped around her and she clung to it like a shield. She was still quite exposed. Will scowled as he noticed.
“Wait here,” he muttered. “I’ll be right back.”
“No!” Emma reached out for him. “Please don’t leave me.” Will kneeled in front of her, his face close to hers.
“I’m not leaving,” he caressed her face. “I’m just going to get something to cover you.” Will dashed away and moments later returned with a blanke
