by Martha Woods
“Nothing,” My mind goes blank for a moment. “I swear, I didn’t see anything,” I plead.
The man’s grip is forming bruises on my arms, I can tell. I struggle, but it is no use. He has me completely in his control.
“HEYYY! What are you doing over there?” a voice yells.
And in a blink of an eye, Mister Muscles is gone again. I breathe a sigh of relief. Rick or one of the officers must have noticed I was gone and has come looking for me.
I turn.
“She was….” My voice trails off as I look into the face of the woman’s attacker.
“Amy.” Mister Muscles smiles. The blood is all gone from around his mouth, as if he has just freshened up and come back to finish our conversation. This time, his smile is warm, charming. I feel a rush of fear, but underneath it, I’m ashamed to admit there is something else. A stirring of desire. “What exactly did you see?” He is not urgent like he was before. He’s speaking easily, as if we’re just having a casual conversation.
His eyes are fixed on mine, and I am floating in a sea of warmth. A reassuring strength radiates off the man, and I want to fall into it, fall into his arms. But with a force of will that surprises me, I force my eyes away from his.
“N…Nothing,” I stammer. “This woman, she fell, and she’s hurt.”
I indicate the woman behind me. The man’s neutral expression falters slightly. What is that? Confusion? A hint of fear?
I hear footsteps running towards the alley.
“Amy? Amy?” Rick’s voice yells.
“Here,” I call back, surprising myself with the strength in my voice.
The man in front of me vanishes again and I fall to my knees. Am I going crazy? Has all the time spent around dead bodies finally started to send me insane?
No, I think. I know exactly what I saw. That was no ordinary man.
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