5 Abbey Road (Broken Streets #1)
Page 5
The four other thugs took Mikey’s lead and grabbed a packet each. Maia couldn’t remember their names, didn’t want to either. A woman and her young son, no older than eight, quickly exited the store. Maia looked up the aisle, past the rows of DVDs and videos at a man, her eyes pleading with him to help her. He was big, with broad shoulders and muscular arms, possibly a body builder. He looked from her to Tama and shook his head, backing away down the aisle. She wanted to scream at him, “Help me,” but decided it would set Tama off.
To her left, familiar faces peered back at her from the shelves. Bruce Willis, Tom Cruise, Jackie Chan, all pretend heroes she wished were real.
She moved behind the candy display. “C’mon, Tama, I wuz only jokin’ ‘bout the balls comment. You know I can’t help myself...” she gabbled nervously with a wide grin on her face. Dammit! Why did she always have to grin when she was scared shitless?
Tama waved her over with his switchblade. “If ya nice to me, I won’t hurt cha.”
Maia bit down on her lip, stopping a derogatory remark from escaping her mouth. She knew what Tama meant by being nice, and she wasn’t going to take it lying down—or any other fucking position.
A woman screamed on the television behind her, an actress she didn’t know. Probably another bimbo in a slasher movie, she thought. Maia wanted to laugh, or cry, at the irony. Outside car doors slammed, followed by a rowdy bunch of teenagers entering the store. They took one look at Tama and his gang and left, followed by more doors slamming and the screech of tyres.
Maia knew she was in for it now. Absolutely no one was willing to help her. “C’mon, no fair, six against one.” She scanned the shop, weighing up her options. There was no way she could make it past them and out the front door. She glanced at the back room. Most places had a back door. Didn’t they?
A police siren came closer. She prayed it was going to stop, but doubted it. Claydon, the shithole, was one of the most policed areas in Auckland. The problem was there were never enough police to cover the sprawling suburb, where poorly built fibrolite houses, factories and graffiti walls populated the landscape. As she’d guessed, the police car drove past, the sound of the siren disappearing down the highway to help some other victim.
Tama smiled lewdly. “I’ll get rid of the others if ya come with me.”
Mikey mumbled something then jerked back as Tama turned on him.
“Fuckin’ shut it, Mikey,” Tama snapped.
Maia saw her opportunity. She took off down the aisle, past the big wimp and into the backroom, quickly locking the door as Tama bashed into it. God, she was lucky the door had a lock. Breathing heavily, she switched on the light and scanned the room. She swore loudly. A bench, sink, a small table and chair, but no backdoor! She looked up at the window above the bench, wondering whether she could slip through it. More bangs sounded on the other side of the door. Well, she’d give it a damn good try.
She pulled herself up onto the bench. Her hand connected with a coffee mug. It toppled over and fell to the floor, smashing across the lino. She pushed open the window. Tama continued to thump against the door. It sounded like he was ramming it with his shoulder. She wished it was his head.
The noise stopped. “Open the fuckin’ door, Maia!”
“Fuck off,” she yelled back.
More thumps started up, along with a litany of swear words that would make even her stepdad blush. She pushed her head through and gripped onto the aluminium frame. A welcoming breeze hit her flushed face. She wiggled through enough to get half of her body out just as the door crashed open. In a panic, she pushed herself forward, scraping her stomach against the metal. Someone grabbed one of her feet. She kicked at them and pushed again. Her shoe came off in their hands as she fell through the window.
She hit the ground, landing on her back. Her breath pushed out, winding her. Stunned, she lay looking up at the sky. “I see stars.” She knew it wasn’t funny, but like grinning she said the stupidest things when she was scared or in pain.
Her attention shifted to Mikey as he tried to fit through the window. He got halfway and started yelling, “I’m stuck, pull me back ... Ow! That fuckin’ hurts. Stop yankin’ me.”
Maia still couldn’t believe Mikey was chasing her. She thought he was different from the others, only hanging out with them because of his cousin. Even after he tried to grab her, she had hoped he’d change his mind and help her. Fuck, she was a moron for even thinking that. He was the same as Tama, wanting a piece of her and not giving a stuff how he got it.
“You bastard,” she shouted. “I can’t believe I liked you.”
Mikey stopped wriggling and stared down at her with a stunned expression. He closed his eyes for a moment, and shook his head, clearly upset. Before he looked away, she could have sworn he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Maia pushed herself up and wobbled on her feet. Feeling woozy, and hurting like hell, she staggered across the concrete towards a wooden fence. The sound of boots hitting the ground caught her attention. She glanced over her shoulder, and breathed in sharply as Tama advanced on her.
There was no one else behind him, only a dumpster and a few cars. They were alone, his mates gone like he’d promised.
Maia grabbed the fence and flung a leg over. An arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her back. Screaming, she struck out with her right elbow, hitting Tama in the ribs.
He swore, and let go. She lunged for the fence as something hit her back.
Tama spun her around, and flattened his bloodied knife against her left cheek. “Stop fightin’ me or I’ll stick ya again.”
Maia sucked in a breath. He’d stabbed her? But it had felt like a punch.
He kissed her roughly, suffocating her with the smell of booze and weed. Her tears mingled with the blood on her cheek as he tugged at her track pants.
Shouting erupted from the other side of the building. A dog barked, followed by the thud of boots and something scrambling across the concrete.
Tama glanced over his shoulder and hollered, “Fuck!” He pushed her aside and lunged for the fence.
As the large dog leapt at Tama, Maia collapsed in a heap.
Behind the Hood
is
Available on Amazon
About the Author
Marita A. Hansen is from New Zealand. She loves writing, creating art, watching and participating in football, and running. For more information on Marita check out these links:
Author Facebook Page:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Marita-A-Hansen/113130742120676
My Masters’ Nightmare Facebook Page:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/My-Masters-Nightmare/167338690126962
Blog Site:
http://maritaahansen.blogspot.co.nz/
Amazon Author Page:
http://www.amazon.com/Marita-A.-Hansen/e/B005H5W79K/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Goodreads’ Author Page:
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5129673.Marita_A_Hansen
Artslant Page:
http://www.artslant.com/global/artists/show/74433-marita-hansen
Patreon Page:
https://www.patreon.com/maritahansen
Twitter Name: @MaritaAHansen
MORE BOOKS BY MARITA A. HANSEN
Graffiti Heaven
Behind the Hood (Behind the Lives #1)
Behind the Tears (Behind the Lives #2)
Behind the Lens (Behind the Lives #3)
Behind the Secrets (Behind the Lives #4)
Don’t Peek (The Diaries of a Teenage Girl)
Overwhelmed (Blurred Lines #1)
My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episodes 1 – 5
My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episodes 6 – 10
My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episodes 11 – 15
My Masters’ Nightmare Season 2, Episode 1 “Mind Games”
My Masters’ Nightmare Season 2, Episode 2 “Déjà Vu”
Ricardo (The Santini Brothers #1)
Brando (The
Santini Brothers #2)
Vincenzo (A Santini Brothers’ Short Story) from the anthology Men of Mayhem
I Love You, Salvatore (A Santini Brothers’ Novella)
Sasha & Andriena (Lovers & Sinners #1)
Broken English (Broken Lives #1)
Shattered Poetry (Broken Lives #2)
Jagged Pill (Broken Lives #3)
Love Drunk (Broken Lives #4)
Facing the Music (Broken Lives #4.1) & (A Broken Lives Short Story #1)
Smokescreen (Broken Lives #4.2) & (A Broken Lives Short Story #2)
Demon in Disguise (Broken Lives #4.3) & (A Broken Lives Short Story #3)
Bottled Up (Broken Lives #4.4) & (A Broken Lives Short Story #4)
Crying Out Silent
Love Hate Love