Assumed Identity(6)

Robin screamed as another blow slammed across her back. Her palms scraped over the wet asphalt as she spread-eagled on her stomach, the wind knocked from her chest. As the pain radiated through her legs, and she struggled to inhale through her bruised lungs, she realized the baby backpack she wore had probably saved her from a crippling or killing blow.

The same backpack also served as an easy handle for her attacker. He latched on to the straps and dragged her several feet away from the car. Terror poured into her veins, thrusting aside the shock that had addled her thoughts. This was it. She was about to become the Rose Red Rapist’s latest victim. She needed to shake off this oxygen-deprived stupor, ignore the pain and fight. She had a child to live for and protect.

Her world spinning, her lungs burning, her legs wobbly as a toddler’s as she pushed up onto her hands and knees, Robin quickly realized three things. Her attacker’s hands weren’t on her anymore. She squinted against the strobing effect of the lightning flashes overhead to see that he had stepped over her prone body and was rifling through the contents of her car. Her attacker was dressed in black from head to toe. There was no face, no hair color to see and identify. And he carried a baseball bat in one gloved hand.

Clarity seeped into her brain with every breath, each one stronger and deeper than the last. Maybe this wasn’t a rape. Maybe he wanted her purse. Or it could be a carjacking. And that meant...Robin staggered to her feet and lurched toward the figure in black. “Get away from my baby!”

She stuck the whistle between her lips and blew. The shrill alarm pierced the air. She blew it again as she lunged for the arm with the bat. Robin got her hands on his wrist as he whirled around. She banged it against the fender of her car, trying to shake the weapon loose.

Despite her assailant’s muffled curse, he quickly regained the upper hand, spinning Robin to one side. With her arms up to struggle with the bat, she left her body exposed and her attacker seized the advantage, ramming his fist into her already sore ribs, doubling her over and robbing her of breath. Robin’s grip on the man loosened and he easily pulled away, raising the bat. He grunted with the effort of his swing as he brought it down toward Robin’s head.

She ducked to the side, saving her life as the bat crashed into the top of her trunk, denting the metal hard enough that the blow must have tingled through her attacker’s arms and hands. He hesitated a moment, flexing his fingers, and Robin slipped away and reached into the car for Emma. “Come on, sweetie.”

Before she could release the latch to remove the carrier from the car seat, she was struck again. She absorbed another blow to the backpack that drove her to the ground.

“Stay down!” her attacker whispered on an angry curse. Yet, almost as soon as he’d issued the order, he was hauling her up to her knees.

“Take my purse. Take my car. Take whatever you want,” she begged, slapping at his gloved hands and struggling to get to her feet. “Just let me get my baby!”

“Shut up.” Huffing and puffing from the exertion of the attack, the man fisted his hand around the straps of Robin’s backpack and dragged her across the parking lot. This was more than getting her out of his way this time. He was hauling her to the alley behind the shop, around the far side of the loading dock, hiding them from any view from the parking lot, much less the street.

With her hood long gone, the rain splashed in her face, reviving her will to fight. “Let go of me!” Robin clawed at his grip. She twisted and kicked. “Please,” she begged. “I just want to save my baby.”

“Shut up!” He dropped her behind the delivery van, glanced up and down the alley as though making sure they were all alone. “I gotta do this.”

Cold, stark terror swept through Robin like the rain soaking into her clothes. She smacked at his hands as he ripped open her jacket and unhooked the belt at her waist. “Stop!”

He popped the buttons on her blouse and unzipped her jeans. The cold rain hit her stomach, soaked into her panties. Robin thrashed and clawed at him. She was in mortal danger, about to become the next victim of the Rose Red Rapist.

And her baby was all alone. Abandoned once more. Helpless, without a mother. Alone at night in the rain.

“Please. I have a child—”

“Quit fightin’ me.” He cuffed her across the face, stunning her. He rose to his feet and straddled her. “You want it this way? Then this is how we’ll do it.” As the man raised the bat, Robin kicked out, aiming for that most vulnerable part of his anatomy.