Secrets and Stolen Kisses

16

He ran his hands all over me, which I found no use for. I was wearing skin-tight workout clothes, they left little to the imagination, and unless I was secretly hiding a damn black card in between my shoulderblades, he didn't have to touch me all over. The fucker shoved his hand up the back of my sports bra just to make sure nothing was there. Who would even put anything back there?

"Let's go," his buddy called out to him, making his way to the door but keeping his gun pointed at Evangeline whose hands were up in the air, her eyes shut in fear.

The two left quickly, just as quickly as they came, and I let out a breath when I saw them drive away. I made sure to remember the license plate so we could report them to the police.

"A-are you okay?" I asked Evangeline hesitantly, walking to the counter where she stood. "They're gone now."

She nodded slowly, watching me with apologetic eyes. "You?"

I felt my side where the guy held the knife to, noticing that I had a cut. Evangeline gasped.

"No, no, there's no need to worry," I reassured her. "I'll clean this up when I get home and it will be all healed by next week, like nothing ever happened."

"I'm so sorry, Amelia," she took my hands. "This place should be safer. You didn't have to get hurt. I'm really sorry."

I smiled at her. "It's not your fault, it's theirs. Besides, this little cut's nothing, I promise."

After reassuring her several times that I was okay and didn't need a doctor, she dropped the subject and handed me some tissues to help stop the bleeding. I held a few of them to my side, pressing on the cut gently.

"Were you able to see the license plate?" she asked me, sliding over a piece of paper and a pen. "I noticed you were looking when they left."

Writing down what I remembered, I nodded. "Here, and if you have any security cameras, that'll be a big help too."

She took the paper from me and stared at it. "Alright, I'll get George to give me the recordings and we'll report it to the police right when you're able to go."

"Here," she handed me a cold bottle of water. "On me, for having troubled you today."

"Thanks," I gulped down the water.

"I... should go," I decided once I twisted the cap back on.

She squeezed my hand and nodded. "Will you be okay?"

Would I be okay?

"Actually, can I borrow a phone, by chance?" I wondered.

"Of course," she brought her phone out of her pocket and gave it to me.

I typed in the number I had memorized, praying my brother was done with basketball. It was five thirty, he should be done. The phone rang a few more seconds before I was sent to voicemail. I grimaced. "Can I try again?"

"Go ahead, try however many times you want to," she encouraged me.

The outcome was the same as before, voicemail. I worried that I would have to jog back home. The sun was going to set pretty soon, and I wasn't looking forward to heading back home in the dark with no watch, no phone and no money, not to mention the cut on my side that was still bleeding a little.

Aside from Archer's number and my parents' who were all the way in New York, there was only one other number that I knew by heart. I was scared to press the green call button after I'd typed the number down, but I did it anyway. It was a long shot since Archer wasn't answering my calls, but this was the last option before having to walk home.