Cadence

ONE

Lost in her own brooding emotions Cadence was unaware of passing time and the rapid darkening of the sky. As the purple hues of dusk seeped into the heavens, the riffraff that frequented the port came oozing from the shadows. Cadence glanced around in sudden apprehension as the harlots who worked the docks strutted up and down the harbor streets brazenly flaunting the wares of their trade. Drunken, slovenly men catcalled the women, and Cadence shuddered in wide-eyed disbelief at the offensive displays. Quickening her pace, she took long, unladylike strides in an attempt to hasten away from the despicable scene playing out before her.

From the corner of her eye she noted an unkempt drunkard take a long pull of ale from his tankard before tossing it aside. Inwardly she groaned; she should have known better than to stroll unaccompanied through the shipping district this time of day, and turned abruptly away from the sailor’s suggestive leer. Kicking up the pace she trotted hastily across the docks.

“Whoa!” her cry of alarm was squelched as the drunk clasped a heavy hand over her mouth and wrapped the other securely about her upper body.

Cadence thrashed against the man who held her trapped in an unrelenting vice.

Fighting the panic welling in her breast she desperately tried to wrench free of the fiend, but the man easily overpowered her and tossed her into a secluded crevice upon a pile of nets and canvas. Her eyes flew in desperate search of escape, but could find none. The brute had chosen well the location for his evil, and no one would venture behind the tall crates without cause. His flat calloused palm remained heavy upon her mouth making it difficult to breathe. His large body nearly suffocated her as he fumbled over her, groping roughly at her womanly curves. Tears coursed unchecked down her face as she futilely fought the man’s unwanted attempts on her innocence. Hot bile welled in her throat as his nauseating hands ventured where none had ever touched.

A small avenue of hope came as the man eased the unrelenting flat of his palm away from her mouth in his lustful quest and she clamped her teeth mercilessly into the side of his hand. Shocked, the man pulled the wounded extremity away as her bloodcurdling shriek rent the night air. In moments the brigand’s hand curved cruelly around her throat, trying to choke the very life from her. A rough hand tore the front of her plum colored gown, reaching lower to grasp the poorly concealed flesh of her breasts, but even as silent screams welled in her throat the strength to fight was sapped.

Blackness roiled around the edges of her vision, closing slowly in as her lungs struggled to expand. Limp and utterly without the strength to fight she welcomed the blackness, thankful she would not have to be conscious, or perhaps even alive for the bitter ravishment. Just as the darkness plunged her senses into the blissful respite of obscurity, protecting her from this hell the dreamlike visage of a man came into view…

Was this heaven?   

*       *       *

Enraged, Curtis Langston stepped around the crate to see a filthy excuse for a drunkard attacking a young woman. A very pretty young woman he couldn’t help but note as he forcibly dragged the brigand from the pile of netting and threw him against the wooden planks of the dock.

“What in the hell is going on here?” Kneeling, Curtis straddled the man and shook him forcibly by the collar of his grungy sweater.