Page 31 of Ash
I winced as the bigger of the two black guys hit him again. I knew I should call the police, but who knew how long the police would take to get here? He could be dead by then. I needed to help him, and fast!
Before I could think better of it, I ran to the van and grabbed the box cutter from the glove compartment, then reached under the driver’s seat and pulled out a baseball bat. Derrick had insisted Marcie kept a bat under the seat of all the company vans ever since she was attacked after an event a few months ago when a guy had tried to grab her.
Derrick was a big fan of baseball after living in the States for a couple of years after he came out of the army and literally “came out.” He played on a small local team in London now. Luckily, on that night, Derrick’s own bat was in the van. So, Marcie grabbed the bat and hit the fucker on the side of the head. He had run off, leaving her a bit shaken, though thankfully not hurt.
After that, Derrick insisted each van had a bat. If the police asked, we were to say that it belonged to Derrick and he had left it there after playing a game, along with the ball and glove he also put in the vans, for authenticity and deniability!No, your honour, the baseball bat was never intended to be used as a weapon; it was just in the right place at the right time!
I was really glad to have it now. I pocketed the box cutter and, with my weapon in hand, ran back to the open door. I didn’t have a plan, but I was glad I was dressed in dark clothing with a hood to hide my hair and some of my face.
I hesitated; I really should call the police.No!No time!They’re hurting him, andby the time the police get here, he could be dead!My inner devil screamed, and I knew she was right.
I was going to have to pull up my big girl panties and rescue him myself.
I shouldn’t have listened to Charlie Puth earlier. Obviously, the lyricsSuperman’s got nothing on me!had gone to my head, and I now thought I was some sort of bloody superhero in a movie. Shit!
This was so unlike me. I was not a person who ran into things head-on without thinking. I was not just a shy person; I was a scaredy cat too, to be honest, and what I was contemplating doing was way out of my comfort zone. However, I had been promising myself I would be more confident and assertive. This wasn’t exactly what I had meant at the time, but hey, ho!
Suck it up, girl!My inner devil said, and I wanted to strangle her as I took a deep breath and entered the building. I crept down the stairway, which faced the outer door, with the bat held up and to the side as if I was waiting for someone to throw a pitch.
It had gone quiet when I first entered the building, and I held my breath, wondering if somehow they knew I was there. I exhaled when the sound of a punch and an ‘oof’ rang out.
What the hell was I doing? I was shaking and terrified. I needed to turn around and go hide and call the police. I turned to leave but stopped and closed my eyes at the sounds of heavy breathing, grunts, and flesh pounding on flesh. The sounds sent shivers down my spine.
“Stupid, mother fuckers!” I heard Mr Sexy Voice shout.
His voice was still sexy despite the pain in it, but his words were slurred, making my heart lurch and my stomach churn. He was hurt, and I needed to stop them from hurting him more.
I tiptoed down the steps. I was halfway down when a phone rang, and the other noises stopped. There was another door at the bottom of the stairs, and I dashed to the side of it just as it opened.
One of the black guys came out, yapping away frantically in some foreign language I didn’t understand. The door closed behind him, and he spit out what sounded like a curse in whatever language it was, then turned to go back inside, and that’s when I swung. He was taller than me but only by a few inches and slim built, so he went down like a sack of potatoes, out cold! Yay, I mentally high-fived myself. Gosh, that was strangely exciting. One down, one to go!
I remembered a movie I saw once where the hero knocked on the door, and when the bad guy opened it, he punched him right in the face. I decided to try the same tactic. I used the bat to knock lightly on the door and took up position off to the side again. It opened quicker than I had anticipated, but the guy clearly didn’t expect to see me in front of him and didn’t have time to react before I swung my bat again and whacked him.
Unfortunately, he was a lot bigger than the other guy it didn’t knock him out. Instead, he staggered back. I followed quickly and hit him again on the other side of his head. That did it. He fell into the room, definitely out cold this time. I played a lot of tennis at high school, and I had a great swing and a mean backhand; thank God for that. He was still breathing, too. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks for that one! I might want to get my Mr Sexy Voice out of here, but I didn’t want to kill anyone in the process.
I stepped towards Mr Sexy Voice and stopped dead for a minute and just stared at his almost naked form. I couldn’t help it. I had never seen a man who looked that good before. He had strong shoulders and such well-defined arse cheeks. He was only wearing boxer briefs, which showed them off so well I could barely refrain from grabbing them just to give them a squeeze and feel how hard they were.
His head was hanging down, and it bobbed slightly as if he was trying to stay awake, but even though he was barely conscious and strung up like he was, he still looked powerful. What a body. I could definitely climb that like a tree.
Oh, and he had a tattoo on his right shoulder; it looked like a giant spider’s web, but instead of a spider, he had an eight-point star within it. I wasn’t sure what that signified, but it was sexy as hell. I did like a guy with tattoos.
He groaned again, bringing me out of my thoughts. My cheeks reddened in shame. Seriously, this was not the time to be ogling the poor guy. I needed to move my arse before the men woke up. I ran towards him and took out the boxcutter, but I couldn’t reach his hands. I grabbed the chair from the corner of the room and quickly climbed up to cut him free. He dropped down and fell to his knees with a loud groan. He was still conscious, but barely. Hooking my arms under his, I helped him to sit.
“We need to get out of here,” I said, grabbing his trousers and helping him put them on.
He needed to be decent, but we didn’t have time for the rest of this clothing, which looked shredded anyway. The black guys were still out cold, but I doubted they’d remain that way for much longer. I didn’t know how we were going to make it out of here, but we had to.
With a great deal of effort, we made it out of the room and up the stairs with him half walking, half leaning on me. My nerves were fraught as, at any time, I expected one of the guys to come chasing after us.
I stopped at the front door and peered out, checking to see if the black SUV had returned. I didn’t want to escape the guys downstairs only to run into more outside. Poor Mr Sexy Voice was valiantly holding on to his consciousness, but I didn’t know how long for.
Everything seemed quiet, so we stumbled through the door and made our way down the alley, doing our half-leaning, half-dragging thing again. It was a strain to hold the bat in one hand and help take his weight with the other, but he needed the help, and I was not letting go of that bat. Not for anything.
After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, we reached Marcie’s van, and I opened the passenger door. It took a bit of pushing and shoving, but I finally got him inside. Did I get a squeeze of his ass as I did it? You better believe I did. But it was only because there was no other way to get him inside, of course, and nothing to do with me wanting to cop a feel of his body. Yeah right!
I secured his seatbelt and then ran around to the driver’s side. As I climbed into the van, I checked the door of the building, but there was still no sign of the two black guys. I breathed a sigh of relief as I started the engine. We needed to get out of there as fast as possible.
“Where to?” I asked.