Wrecked Read Free Page A

older man rush towards me. I was terrified of what he might do, but the snare finally ripped out of the ground, and the rabbit scampered away with it still attached to its leg. Before I could look back to see where the older man had gone off to, my head was wrenched backwards, my breath catching as excruciating pain radiated from my sensitive scalp. The man had wrapped a handful of my long light brown hair around one of his hands. He pulled my face toward his, his fetid breath and foul body odor making my stomach heave. It was in that moment that I feared what appeared to be my impending death, but my choice was clear—I had to fight! “You made me lose my dinner, little girl,” he snarled.
    “HELP!” I screamed as loud as I could, praying someone would hear me.
    He quickly covered my mouth with one of his filthy hands. Once he was sure I wouldn’t make any further noises, he ran his tongue down my cheek. I could handle the grime on his hands, but once I felt the bulge of his erection pressed into my side, revulsion filled me, and I wanted nothing more than to shrink away. My stomach was tied in knots from fear. Pure. Unadulterated. Terror. I thought was going to die.
    No! This couldn’t be happening .
    I decided that I wasn’t going to make it easy for the son of a bitch.
    “Get the fuck off me!” I growled while trying to fight him off of me.
    “Not so fast little girl. Since I can’t have dinner, I’ll skip to dessert,” he whispered in my ear.
    All I could think was, no dear God, death would be better than this man touching me.
    I brought my knee forward and attempted to kick him in the groin, but it was a feeble attempt. I tried to punch him in the throat and fight with all I had, but he quickly deflected and grabbed my fist. He outweighed by nearly a hundred pounds. He finally took hold of my tracksuit and ripped it opened, exposing me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him off me! He was tugging my pants down with one hand, while using the other to pin my hands down over my head.
    I wiggled one wrist and was able to free my hand from his grasp. I struck out at him; my nails collided with his face leaving three jagged, bloody lines running from the corner of his eye to the bridge of his crooked nose. His black eyes glared furiously, and I cringed inwardly, realizing that my actions had only served to increase his fury.
    Dear Lord, help me.
    I heard a loud crack and braced myself for the inevitable, but instead, I gasped as his dead weight dropped on top of me. My eyes were wide with fear, and I tried to wrestle myself free by rolling him off.
    What happened?
    All at once, the weight was lifted, and I watched as the grimy piece of shit’s body thumped hard against the ground. I quickly surveyed my surroundings and saw my rescuer. A man stood before me. Our eyes connected for a moment, but then he remembered himself and tightly shut his eyes. He cleared his throat nervously but refused to open his eyes as he held out a parka in front of him.
    Although I was frightened, it wasn’t enough for me to ignore the man before me. I immediately noticed the coarse hair of his five o’clock shadow. He had a well-defined jaw with full, perfectly proportioned lips. The narrow bridge of his nose tapered to a rounded tip. A profusion of long, curly lashes were paired with a set of perfectly shaped brows. Yet it was beneath his closed eyes that captured all of my attention. His skin was bronze, contrasted beneath a white t-shirt. He had broad shoulders and defined arms that communicated strength without being too muscular. He was breathtaking.
    “Are you going to cover up?” His voice was slightly roughened but with a smooth timbre.
    I felt the heat rush to my face. Embarrassed, I snatched the parka from his outstretched hand and put it on, clumsily fighting with the extra-long sleeves. Glancing up, I realized that he was much taller than I, topping out at more than six feet.
    “Thank you,” I whispered.
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