three

Hailey's POV

The man looms in front of me, and I'm able to trace out his huge form in the darkness. He towers above me by at least a feet, his presence intimidating and radiating menace.

The alcohol is completely gone now, leaving me sobered up, and I realize just how vulnerable I am. Trying to act smart would do nothing to help right now, as he can easily overpower me with his size, so I settle for the next best thing. Begging.

"Please, just let me go. What do you want?"

He chuckles, a low sound that makes my skin crawl. He steps closer, backing me against the cold brick wall.

"Don't come any closer," I warn him, trying to portray the boldness I don't feel, but my voice betrays me.

He blocks me from the street, so if anyone were to pass by, they wouldn't be able to see what's happening. "Now, why would I do that, baby girl? When I have you right where I want you?"

His calloused palm grazes my cheek, sending a jolt of revulsion through me. His other hand begins to roam down my arm.

Tears well up in my eyes, blurring my vision, and my body begins to tremble.

"Please," I whisper, my voice shaking with fear. He ignores me, his hand cupping my breasts roughly. A sob escapes my lips, a sound of terror.

My vulnerable state only seems to drive the man forward, as he rips my shirt open, exposing my bra.

"Aren't you a juicy one," he mutters, his eyes raking over my breasts lustfully. It causes me to shudder in disgust.

The sudden sound of a motorcycle engine approaching cuts through the night. I open my mouth to scream, but he clamps a hand over it. "Hush, baby. We don't want someone interrupting our fun, do we?"

Desperate, I muster every ounce of strength in me and manage to push him away. He staggers back, but only a few inches.

I raise my knee, aiming for his crotch. The man doubles over in pain, a strangled groan escaping him. I take the chance to run, my feet pounding against the pavement. However, I don't go far as he catches me.

I scream for help as loud as I can, and the man covers my mouth again, but I bite his grimy hand. He winces, retracting it from my mouth. I kick him again, but he barely flinches, seemingly prepared for it this time.

The bike's headlights pierce through the darkness, and I wave my hands frantically, ignoring the state of my torn shirt.

The man, relentless, still grabs me again, but isn't able to do anything this time as the headlights shine directly on us.

The motorcycle screeches to a halt, and the rider steps down, leaving the headlight on to illuminate the area. It offers me some feeling of safety, as I'm assured he has nothing to do with the assaulter. He is tall, clad in black leather, his face covered by a helmet.

The man holding me tightens his grip around my body, his fingers digging into my skin. "Look, champ," the assaulter sneers. A little spittle spills from his mouth, landing on my cheek.

'Ew.'

"I'm having a private discussion with my girlfriend. Mind your business and move along.

The rider removes his helmet. I'm not able to make out much of his face, except the curve of a smile in the dim light. He takes a step closer to us. I squint my eyes, the light now shining directly into them.

"Doesn't seem to me like she's enjoying the conversation." The man glances at me, "Am I right?"

I nod frantically, unable to speak.

"We're going to play a little game," the rider says calmly. "I'll count down from five, and I expect that you should have let her go before I get to one. If not... let's just say you won't be bothering any woman again."

It is fascinating, how he can threaten a man this big without any fear. He isn't small, himself, but it's obvious the man is larger than he is.

The man holding me sneers. "Your threats don't scare me."

"Five. Four. Three..."

"Bitch!" the assaulter screams, momentarily loosening his grip on me. I wrench myself free, running to hide behind the biker.

The biker's eyes flicker over my torn shirt, his jaw tightening. His fists clench as he steps toward the assaulter. "How dare you disrespect a woman like that?" He doesn't wait for an answer, his fist connecting with the man's face, the sound of a bone breaking following.

He doesn't let the man recover from the blow, landing him blow after blow.

The assaulter stumbles backward, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a long object, which flashes in the moonlight.

A dagger.

He lunges at the biker, a growl sounding from his mouth. The biker manages to dodge on time, sending him sprawling.

The biker ceases the chance and kicks him from the back, causing him to sloppily topple to the ground. He straddles him, pinning his hands behind his back. He pulls out a pair of handcuffs.

'He's a cop?'

"You're a cop?" I ask, my voice hoarse.

He stands up, walking in my direction. I take a step back, with the thought that he's heading for me. But he walks past me, to his bike.

He pulls off his jacket and hands it to me, his eyes lingering on my exposed chest with a frown on his face. I take it, saying a word of appreciation. Then he takes his helmet, puts it back on and clicks it in place. "No," he responds, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I carry them around for special purposes." He winks.

A blush creeps up my neck.

He revs the engine. "You coming?"