On the run

Three

I pulled my hood a little further over my head. Keeping myself covered so I didn't look like me. If I was taller, I'd wear men's clothes so I wouldn't be disturbed. In my area, it was well known for girls walking alone to get attacked. I could park as close as possible to the entrance to my building, make myself look as in place as possible, keep my head down, but I knew none of that would ever be enough.

That's why I had this man stood next to me right now. He wasn't from this building. I'd never seen him before and I knew no one new had moved in before and he hadn't buzzed anyone either. He had been smoking at the front of the building which didn't make any sense because we all had balconies for that. Why would you come downstairs to smoke?

No, he saw me and decided I was his meal for the night. I wasn't in the slightest bit worried. I was beyond prepared for this kind of thing and this wasn't the first time it had happened coming home from the bar at 2am after work. The doors opened and I stepped in, the man joining me immediately. I kept my head down until after he'd pressed a random floor and I then leaned over, pressing a few floors above him. Not my floor. He'd pressed 8. I'd pressed 12, I was floor 10.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out alone this late?" He slurred, the alcohol that was practically dripping from him filling the air and I'm fairly sure the air would test positive on a Breathalyzer it smelled that strong.

He moved closer when I didn't answer. "Look, I'm giving you one chance to stay in your own lane. Touch me and you won't like what happens."

"Oh, I like a girl with a little fight in her." He pulled down my hood, pushing my face up as he grasped my cheeks hard, forcing my head back against the back wall. "What else does that mouth do baby?" I snarled, spitting in his face. His eyes turned black, pushing my face tighter together as the lift moved much too slowly. His other hand moved to my clenched thighs, trying his best to get between them. "Come on now, stop being stubborn. You're getting it from me tonight whether you want it or not bitch."

"I am not." He slapped me. Straight across the cheek until I felt a burn.

"Talk to me like that again and I'll have you here you slag."

"Fucking try me." I smirked, having enough of his shit. He tried my thighs again and I sighed. "You're messing with the wrong woman and I've just about had enough."

"Keep talking baby, I'm not stoppin-" I grabbed his throat, squeezing hard the second I felt him under my grasp, his hands grasping at my wrist to get me off. "What the fuck are you doing? Get off me." I stared at his face as it turned more crimson with every gasp for air he took. "I can't-"

"Breathe? Yeah kind of the point." I turned my face, looking in the mirror at the handprint across my face. I shook my head, exhaling. "I warned you. Didn't I? That you wouldn't like what happens if you touched me?" He nodded and I kicked him to the floor, lift shaking as he collided with the wall. He panted and I took the 2 steps over to him, bending down to his eye level, pulling his hand up to me. "My ex taught me a huge collection of ways to keep myself safe from people like you. Whilst I'll never stoop so far as to kill a man, I'm not above breaking a few bones to teach a lesson." I gripped his wrist between my hands, twisting until he yelped.

"P-please. No. I won't- I won't come back. Ever. I'll stay away, tell my friends to stay away."

"Oh, it's much too late for that." I twisted, hearing the crack of his wrist half a second before he screamed. "You should really be careful who you lay your hands on next time." The lift doors opened on floor 8 and I stepped over him into the corridor, pulling my hood back up and heading up the stairs, taking 2 at a time and it barely having any effect on my breathing.

The hall was as quiet as normal. This was pretty much the quietest floor in the building. Partially because anyone causing trouble had an anonymous letter slipped under their door in the middle of the night daring them to try it again. I wanted to feel safe here and I'd finally got it to a place where I wasn't terrified of the doors closing on a night.

I was so used to the high-level protection when I lived with Jaxson. The cameras and the guns and people always about listening and watching. I just hated the fact it was needed. Because if that wasn't there, me and everyone else I loved would be in danger.

I guess I still am.

Loving Jaxson puts a target on your back for the rest of your life.

But running from him? Skipping out in the middle of the night, calling him from the middle of nowhere to tell him you were going because you couldn't do it anymore and listening to him tell you that he'd find you, that I'd be his when he did. That was the most dangerous thing I could have done. You don't end things with Jaxson. Jaxson ends it with you or you end up dead like his last 2 girlfriends when his families rivals got to them and Jaxson didn't.

I'd been running for him longer than I'd been here though. 8 months longer. This year would be the 4th, unsurprisingly, the day after my birthday.

I loved Jaxson. I did. But he'd drunkenly told his friends that night that if it came to it, his friends would be saved over me and I couldn't put myself in that situation. With 2 of his girlfriend's already dead and then him saying he wouldn't save me, it was die or die. Or run. So, I ran. I've been running since.

New hair, new surname, new city hundreds of miles away and after 4 years, I was genuinely starting to think I'd succeeded at this. That I'd managed to get away without death being the end of it all.

Sure, I'd be in hiding for the rest of my life, but once I had enough savings I could probably settle down somewhere better than here. I'd have to buy a house outright, in cash so there wasn't a record of it anywhere. But I think I could do it. I might actually be alright.