Fight or Flight (7 page)

“Morning.”
The cashier nodded politely.

Em forced herself to return his smile. “Good morning.”

She was through the door. Honestly, further than she’d thought she’d make it. Now she just had to decide. What was worth risking her freedom, her safety, possibly her
life
for? It sounded dramatic even to Em, but the fact that there was a real chance that she wasn’t overreacting kept her on edge. For a few minutes, she just wandered up and down the aisles, trying to calm her nerves.

Near the bakery section, the scent of baking bread overwhelmed her. Bread was a good choice. It was filling and could last a while. But it couldn’t be the fresh kind. That sat on displays right in front of the bakery. Too many people working back there. There was always the
packaged bread aisle, though.

And peanut butter.
Peanut butter had always been a comfort food of Em’s, and peanut butter sandwiches sounded fantastic. Conveniently, they were both in the same aisle. Inconveniently, that aisle was on the other side of the building.

Gathering her courage before the
useless coward
in her could suck it all away, Em hurried across the back of the store. She was in such a rush that she didn’t even notice the milk carton sitting beside one of the end displays until she tripped over it. Half way to the floor, strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her back upright, steadying her on her feet once more.

“Hey, sorry about that.
Are you all right?” The boy in the black and red polo shirt with the shopping cart emblem in the upper left corner flashed her an award-winning smile. “I was just sitting on that to stock the shelves. Didn’t think it’d become a hazard.”

“No. Sorry. I—I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“That’s all right. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”
Shoot. Bad.
She was drawing attention. She may not know much about this kind of thing, but she knew attention was bad.

“What’s your name?”

Bad! Definitely bad!
“Umm . . .”

“You don’t know your own name?”

“No . . . I . . .” Em couldn’t think with him standing that close. And why was he still touching her? Taking a step back, so that his hands slid off her waist, she took a moment to gather her thoughts and glanced at the cake display he’d been stocking. “Debbie. My name’s Debbie and I’m fine. Thank you for your help.”

Em wanted to smack herself right there. Trying desperately to salvage the situation, she turned to go, but stock boy had other ideas. His hand wrapped around her wrist and immediately her freaked mind shot to worst case scenario. He knew she was lying. He knew what she was. What she was planning to do. He’d call the police and they’d—

“My name’s Scott. Do you think maybe I could get your number before you go?”

Number?
He wanted her number? What number? After reminding herself to breathe, Em’s heart stopped trying to escape her body through her throat and she calmed down enough to put two and two together. He wanted her phone number.

“Umm . . . I don’t . . . I don’t think so. Sorry.” She tried again to walk away, but his grip only tightened.

“Why not? I just saved your life. Don’t you think that deserves at least one date?” He was only teasing—flirting—but panic clamped down on all rational thought with his hold on her wrist.

She stared down at his fingers wrapped around her arm and fought back the overwhelming urge to struggle.
Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me.
She trapped the words behind clenched teeth.

“I can’t.” She managed to grind out, and thankfully he released her.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Your loss.”

That award-winning smile slipped into a frightening scowl, and Em turned tail and ran for the bread aisle. She considered giving up on the whole idea, but she’d come this far and she knew
she’d never have the courage to try this again. After all, she was a
coward
.

Thankfully, the early hour meant the store was mostly deserted, including the bread aisle. Grabbing a loaf of white bread small enough to conceal, she slipped it under her sweater. Okay, maybe not as concealed as she would have liked, but if she folded her arms just right, and kept her back to everyone . . . Sure, it might work.

After slipping in a tiny jar of peanut butter in as well, she turned toward the exit. Almost done, but to get out she’d have to walk right past the registers. Right past the
cashier
. This was never going to work. But she was determined to prove she could hack it out here to Jay. To herself. And she didn’t know any other way to do that. She had to at least try.

Here goes nothing
.
One step at a time, she forced herself to keep moving forward. The one cashier on duty was busy reading a tabloid. He glanced up as she reached the front, but when she headed for a vacant register, he only smiled and recited, “Have a good day.”

“You, too.”
He didn’t even give her a second glance before returning his attention to ‘The Best and Worst Celebrity Beach Shots’.

This was going to work. She couldn’t believe it. It was actually going to— “Hey!”

Oh, crap. It was Scott, and he was headed her way. What should she do? Wait for him? See what he wants? Have a conversation while trying to hide the massive lump in her sweater? Yeah, she didn’t think so. Only one other choice, then. She took a couple steps, getting ready to make a run for it, but he was quicker than she’d anticipated.

“Hey, I just wanted to
. . .” His grip on her shoulder spun her around and his eyes dropped to the lump she was cradling. “What’s that? What are you—?” Without warning, he tugged on her sweater and the bread and peanut butter came tumbling out. “What the hell?”

Em tried again to run, but his other hand still gripped her shoulder.
Hard
. Throwing all of her fear and anger into the movement, she yanked away from him and sprinted for the front door. She made it as far as the parking lot before he caught up. And he wasn’t alone.

Steel arms wrapped around her middle,
pinning her against a hard chest. This time she didn’t bother holding back the words that tumbled out of her.

“Let go! Get off. Get off of me! Don’t touch me!” She was screeching at the top of her lungs, but Scott seemed unfazed.

If anything his grip only tightened as she struggled against him. The cashier stood a few feet off, looking entirely unsure about the whole situation.

“You some dirty street whore? Think you can just come in here, mess with me, and walk away?” Scott’s voice had turned cold and cruel. She knew that tone. It only meant bad things. Her struggles turned to trembles as he shouted at the cashier, “What the hell are you waiting for? Call the police!”

No, no, no.
Not the police. Anything but that. They’d send her back. She couldn’t go back.
Wouldn’t
. Her renewed struggles were fueled by that conviction.

“Let me go! Don’t touch me!”
Giving up on shaking him off. She threw her foot backward—mule kick style—and landed a blow to something valuable.

Scott stumbled backward, his hands releasing her to cover his crotch. Em didn’t stick around to see if he’d survive. She took off.
And made it all of two car lengths before he was on her again. Apparently, she hadn’t kicked him nearly as hard as she’d thought.

“You bitch!” He spun her around forcefully and a vicious slap sent her to the ground.

The look in Scott’s eyes had gone past anger straight to rage. She knew what that meant, too. Curling into a tight ball to protect herself, she could only see Scott’s feet as he approached. One step, then another, closer and closer. He meant to cause her harm. She knew it. She was prepared for it. And then . . . he was gone.

His high top sneakers disappeared from view, replaced with a pair of dirty, frayed black work boots. A small paper bag dropped to the ground beside Em, spilling out tiny bits of white—rice?—which mixed with the dark gray of the gravel lot. A newspaper page blew into her face blocking her view for a moment.

“Keep your goddamn hands off her!” The deep growl was followed by sounds of a scuffle. Feet shifting near her head. And then the undeniable sound of flesh hitting flesh.

A pained grunt was accompanied by a spray of gravel as another body hit the ground. Peeking out from between her arms she’d wrapped around her head, Em saw that it was Scott sprawled out beside her. Then those black boots filled her vision again and she forced herself to look up.

Of course it was Jay. The one time she’d tried to do something right—to prove she could handle this—he had to come along and see just how wrong she was. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do
anything
. She’d never be a help to anyone. Least of all, herself.

The cashier was still standing there, watching everything like he may pee his pants, but he had his cellphone in his hand.

“You’re going to regret that, Asshole!” Scott was pushing himself back off the ground.

Em was so fixated on him, that she didn’t even realize Jay had dragged her up, as well, until she was on her feet again.

His grip on her arms was just about the only thing keeping her upright on her shaky legs.  “Move it. Now!”

Jay threaded his fingers through Em’s and for once she didn’t feel the overwhelming urge to yank away
. Behind them, she could hear the slap of shoes on the sidewalk. They were being
chased
.

Em’s heart pounded so hard she felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the entire city, but still Jay pulled her down sidewalks and across streets. She had no idea how far Scott and the other boy actually followed them, but when Jay tugged her down and alley and out onto a connecting street, he finally paused so they could both catch their breath.

Too afraid to look him in the face, Em kept her eyes on the sidewalk and waited. Waited for him to yell or scream. To tell her how
useless
she was. To kick her out and tell her she was on her own.

But when they were both breathing normally again, all he said was, “Let’s go.”

Em could feel the tension rolling off of Jay in waves. Part of her was terrified, but he’d never given her a reason to fear him before, so the part remained small in comparison to what she’d felt in the face of Scott’s anger.

When they finally stepped inside their room together, she couldn’t take the silent treatment any longer.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice barely registered above a whisper, but breaking the loaded silence, it sounded to her like a scream.

Jay only glanced at her and shook his head. There it was. There was the disappointment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Why should he care anyway? She was no good to him. She was no good to anyone. He’d known it all along. That’s why he’d never let her leave before, but now she’d proven it to him. Just like she’d been proving it to herself for years. A
useless coward
. That was all she was. All she’d ever be.

Chapter Thirteen

Jay

Lost. Everything he had spent hours scrounging up for the two of them was gone. All because she had to go and leave the squat. She couldn’t just sit tight and wait like he’d told her to. Trouble seemed to follow this girl around like a dark cloud. So why the hell was he still sticking with her? It wasn’t smart, and to survive out here you needed to be smart. About
everything
.

Em was hovering near the doorway, looking like she was wondering the very same thing.
Like she was just waiting for him to kick her out any second. He should. It would make his life a hell of a lot easier, but . . . he couldn’t.

She was still trembling from when that asshole had grabbed her.
Hit
her. She’d said she was fine, but he could see the angry red mark across her cheek from where she’d been slapped. It brought back memories. Too many memories. He wanted nothing more than to pound that piece of shit into the ground. The urge to reach out to her was overwhelming, but she wouldn’t want that. Not from him. He repulsed her.

“Sit,” he growled at her, grabbing the one carton of food he’d managed to hold on to. “Eat something.”

He knew she must be hungry. He could remember how hungry he’d been at first before his body adjusted to the smaller amounts of nutrition, but she never complained, never asked for anything. She was trying. Like today.

He knew she’d only been trying to help, but she didn’t know what she was doing. She wasn’t cut out for this and he wasn’t going to be able to support them both for much longer. His days were becoming impossibly long trying to do enough to keep them both fed. Winter was on the
way and then things would get even tougher. He could barely take care of himself, how was he supposed to take care of someone else?

Em dropped down onto the floor beside him as he cracked the white, cardboard carton open.
Noodles. Lomein. Just as he was about to offer it to her, Jay noticed something moving inside. Jostling the container, he stirred up the contents and a swarm of little white bugs squirmed to the surface.