Chapter 3

Taylor

Today just kept getting better and better. My anniversary. After dealing with clients who felt overly entitled to having their way, I looked forward to leaving the office and finally spending time with Aaron. He’d called and asked if I wanted to go out to celebrate. I couldn’t believe he remembered, let alone wanted to celebrate, our seventh anniversary. I’d rushed home to get dressed and meet him at the restaurant I’d chosen. I had every intention on being with him, so I’d had the company’s car service drop me off at the restaurant. I could just ride home with him, right? Wrong…dead wrong. We were supposed to meet at eight pm. That was two hours and half a bottle of wine ago. I would hate myself for this in the morning, but I couldn’t stop myself from wallowing tonight.

            “Ma’am, we’ll be closing in an hour. Would you like to place your order now?” the waiter questioned.

            I looked away from the pity in his eyes. I was sure he’d seen his fair share of women being stood up, but I didn’t want or need his pity. I rambled off a few items from the menu and told him to box them up. Staring at my empty wine glass, I contemplated ordering one more, but decided against it. I didn’t deserve this and I refused to feel sorry for myself. Sort of. I knew a date with Aaron had been a longshot, but he’d been the one to schedule it and I wanted it desperately. I glanced around the upscale restaurant. Couples were littered all throughout, holding hands across the white linen tablecloths and staring lovingly into each other’s eyes as they spoke. This place was made for romance from the dim lighting, to the flameless candles flickering on the table, and soft music playing on hidden speakers.

            Further in the back, a group of men crowded around tables clearly pushed together to accommodate them. They were too far away from me to discern any features, but there was something stifling about them. An air of something that I couldn’t put my finger on, but knew I wanted no part of. As I watched them, three of them stood and made their way toward the restrooms.

I noticed the waiter headed back my way and forced a smile. He’d been really nice, plying me with wine all night—or maybe that indicated a sociopath. My phone hadn’t lit up since I checked it thirty seconds ago, but I picked it up again just to be sure. No change. Calling Aaron would be pointless. Instead I called the car service. On the verge of tears, I paid the bill and gathered my things before heading outside. I needed fresh air and it hadn’t even occurred to me to wait inside. I didn’t want to be embarrassed and crying in front of the entire restaurant. I’d barely managed to hold back the tears before waving the valet away and letting the door close. Sobs rocked my body. My freaking anniversary!As if the past six months hadn’t brutal enough, I was neglected this way on my anniversary. Our anniversary! I hadn’t planned this date—he called me.

According to tradition, Aaron should have been surprising me with some witty gift of wool or copper. That was what symbolized the seventh anniversary. I’d gotten him a wool coat and scarf set, with a matching hat and wool lined gloves, as well as a copper paperweight for his office. I wanted this to be a new beginning for us. “I guess this is my new beginning alone,” I said to no one. At least I’d thought it had been to no one.

            “Who said you had to be alone,” a voice answered.

            I nearly dropped my containers of food and Aaron’s gifts as I whirled to face the direction the voice came from.  Only one had spoken, but there were three guys. One stood about ten feet away and two more lingered further back, swallowed by the shadows. The speaker looked young, late teens. I glanced around taking in my surroundings and noticed that I’d managed to drift away from the restaurant to the corner near an alley. I mentally slapped myself. Twice. I should have waited inside.

“My husband is on his way out, any minute now. I’m not alone,” I stuttered and faked a smile. His answering smile had been instant and just as fake. He believed that lie just as much as I did—not at all. I quickly tried to go back towards the restaurant.

            “A real man wouldn’t have you out here waiting for him, especially not in that dress,” he stated as he stepped into my path, blocking my escape.

            I silently cursed Aaron. This boy had no idea how right he was and how much I wished he was wrong.

            “Or have you carrying all that stuff. What’s in the bag?” one of the others asked as he moved closer.

            The third remained in place, reeking of uncertainty, but he said nothing.

“Take it, it’s yours,” I said as I thrust the food and gifts toward them.

            “Aww, that’s so sweet of you,” he said a full-blown grin lighting up his face. He stepped forward and took everything from me.

            “I don’t have much cash on me, but you can have it,” I said. I reached into my clutch to grab the cash I had, but he snatched the entire clutch.

            “Seriously? Such a little sweetheart.” His grin somehow grew broader.

            “How much is it?” the third asked, speaking for the first time. He looked younger than the other two, but his voice was laced with authority.

            “$160,” Smiley answered.

            “Bring her here,” the third instructed.

            No, no, no! Don’t let them take you into the alley. No one would ever find you! Not the alley, Taylor! My instincts to scream went into overdrive, but as soon as I opened my mouth, I was quieted by a punch to my face before being picked up and carried into the alley. Dammit! This was supposed to be a safe neighborhood. Things like this didn’t happen in this area. I didn’t think I was a fighter, but my anger towards Aaron fueled my determination. Using my heels as a weapon, I lifted both legs and rammed my feet into the legs of the guy carrying me and dragged my nails along his exposed arms.

“Fuck! Stupid cunt,” he yelled as he threw me to the ground. My hands and knees took the brunt of the impact, sending pain screaming through my extremities, but I knew I had to fight. I whimpered and tried to crawl away, but a boot connected with my stomach, knocking the breath from me.

            “You used to be so sweet,” he declared before another kick landed in a different spot.

            “I only wanted to talk to her, stop hitting her,” the third one commanded.

            “No more talking, her ass is dead,” the first one promised. My gaze followed his voice and found his face just in time to be met with a slew of blows to my head and torso.

            I folded my body into the fetal position and begged him to stop as the second one laughed and joined in. Kicks and punches rained down on me and I tried to make sense of it. I’d done nothing to them. I’d given them everything I had. I’d done everything I was supposed to do in a survival situation and none of it had worked. I tried blocking them, but it was no use. They were relentless. Hateful. Loathsome. I could hear the third one telling them to stop, but he made no physical effort to enforce his demands. A distant part of me wondered what had happened to them to make them so callous, so evil. Where had this need for abuse come from? Just as quickly as it started, the beating stopped and I heard another voice, this one deeper and more authoritative than the others.

            “Y’all do this shit to a helpless female?” he bellowed amongst the sound of a scuffle and grunts of pain. “Take them to the fucking warehouse. Show them what it means to be helpless.”

            I fought the unconsciousness threatening to overtake me and pulled myself up. My body refused my attempt and I slumped back to the ground. My vision blurred, warm liquid dripping into my eyes. Was that my blood? As I wiped it away I heard the voices again, the deeper one standing out. A string of curse words and threats permeated the night air. I tried to move away when I realized why the voice stood out so much. He was right next to me. Disoriented, I didn’t know if I moved away or stayed where I’d been. The brick walls of the alley blurred and the ground spun. Bile rose in my throat and I fought to keep it down. “Please, just let me go. Just let me…” I begged.

            “They can’t hurt you anymore, you’re safe,” he said as he picked me up, cradling me against his chest and forcing my head against his shoulder. Safe? The concept disoriented me more. This stranger, this man who had saved me from the others, showed more compassion and care in the last minute than my husband of seven years had shown me in months. His voice had been rough and demanding, but his touch had been feather light, soft.

            I wanted to tell him to put me down, to get away from me, or even threaten to have him sent to jail, but my voice failed me. My mind told my hands to fight, but they didn’t obey. Even my fingers rebelled and remained still. Blackness crept along the edges of my vision, threatening to overtake me and my eyes fluttered with attempts to fight it back. Pain radiated through my body and all I could do was sink further into his arms.

            “What you wanna do with her?” another voice asked—a different voice. Jesus, how many of them were there?

            “She’s coming with us. Get the truck, we need to get her to Mimi.”

            Mimi? Such a pretty name. So feminine. But who was she?