The Lost: Book Two of The Whitechapel Chronicles

Chapter 11

It wasn't long before one of the girls also turned and headed up some steps, after saying goodbye to her friend with a brief hug while the other stayed on the towpath, picking up the pace now that she was alone. It never ceased to amaze me how foolish people could be, blindly walking the path of danger as if they were untouchable. Because of course, the bad things only ever happened to others, right?

The gap between them had closed slightly, due to her stopping to say her farewells and despite her speed now, he was drawing closer by the second but then so was I. My breath was quickening with each light step that I took, the need to feel his body under mine like a fire raging through my veins and no doubt he was feeling the same as he closed in on his prey. We were nearing the Kingsland Road Bridge and instinctively I knew this was his chance, just as it was mine. I couldn't risk letting him reach her, couldn't risk letting her screams alert anyone because he was mine and no one was going to take him from me.

"Excuse me?" I called out, stepping out into the thin light cast from a next-to-useless streetlamp.

The man quickly looked back to see me standing there, before turning back in the direction of the girl. She was almost at the bridge now.

"Please can you help?" I was channelling the old Megan again. Needy. Weak. Vulnerable.

I could see the man was hesitant to stop. He didn't want to lose his prey but he slowed anyway and looked my way again, weighing up what he might lose against what he might gain from helping this girl who was all on her own on the dimly lit towpath. I took a few wary steps towards him.

"Sorry," I stammered. "It's just I'm trying to get to Haggerston Station, do you know if it's nearby?"

"Yeah," the man smiled and stopped. I'd clearly won in the Who Should I Violate Next stakes. "It's just past the next bridge." He pointed in the direction of the girl, who had cleared the bridge now and was disappearing up the steps on the other side.

A small thrill shot through me, raising goose bumps on my skin. We'd passed Haggerston Bridge already, the sound of a passing train clacking along the tracks overhead helping to mask the sound of my footsteps.

"Oh great," I smiled shyly, inching towards him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied and began to walk towards the bridge again, his pace noticeably slower than before. As he reached the edge of the dark confines of the tunnel, he stopped again, withdrawing his iPod from his inside jacket pocket and pretending to fiddle with the device. I fought the urge to giggle as I drew closer, but my hunger won out. I was aching for him and exhilarated by how close I was to taking him.

He sidestepped to the left to let me pass and as I did so, embracing the darkness of the tunnel and feeling the hair on the back of my neck prickle with excitement, the air shifted behind me and I knew he was moving to attack. When his fingers grasped my hair roughly, I faked a yelp and let him whirl me around until my back hit the wall of the tunnel. Quickly he slammed a hand over my mouth and pressed his body up against mine, his firmness evident through the jersey fabric of his sweatpants as he crushed his groin against my stomach. I could feel his hot breath on my skin as he assessed his prize, his eyes running lasciviously over my face. His blonde hair was cropped short and he was clean shaven, strangely well-groomed for such a beast but as experience had taught me, the demons come in all guises. This one smelt of washing powder and chewing gum.

The hand that had grabbed my hair was trailing down my chest, seeking out the curve of my breast which he squeezed hard and in return my hand, which I had pushed against his shoulder, travelled up to his neck and I couldn't prevent the giggle from bubbling out at the feel of his carotid artery pulsing under my palm. His eyes clouded with confusion and he released the pressure on my mouth.