Fallen Woman(34)

It was later than I’d realized, and the streets were almost deserted. The wind whipped around me, and I kept shimmying my short skirt down to cover my bottom while walking to the bus stop. This was a horrible time of night to be using public transportation, but I didn’t have much choice. I held my clutch in one hand and my hair with the other to keep it from blinding me and walked quickly through the darkened streets. As I crossed Fourth Street, not two blocks from the bus stop, the darkness of the alley seemed to pour onto the sidewalk, sucking what little illumination remained from my path. In total blackness, my heart started to race, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. The alarm bells in my head told me to take off running, but in high heels, that wasn’t much of an option, and stopping to take them off was even less appealing.

Out of nowhere, a man appeared with the brute force of an ox, shoving me against the sidewall of the building lining the street. Instinctively, I tried to brace my fall with my hands, bringing my clutch between me and brick.

“Gimme the purse, bitch!” he seethed into my ear. The warmth of his breath made my skin crawl, and the smell made me want to puke right there.

As I tried to pull the purse from in front of me, he slammed my head against the wall, and I struggled to hold onto consciousness. The pain reverberated through my skull. My body began to slide down, my hands still flush with the brick, being torn apart by the roughness beneath them and my weight pushing against them. He shimmied up to me before I made it to the ground, pressing his front into my back, one leg between my own.

“Please don’t hurt me,” I whimpered.

He pushed harder against my lower back, slamming my upper body into the wall again, knocking my temple into the building, my cheek scraping the harsh material. His knee nudged up as high as it could go, making contact with my crotch, and I begged him to let me go and prayed he didn’t actually touch my skin.

“Shut up, whore. You don’t come out in a dress like this late at night and not offer up the goods.”

“Just take the money, please,” I begged in a voice so low I wasn’t sure he’d even heard me until he dropped my body to the ground, snatched the clutch, and started kicking me.

“Hey, man!” I heard the stranger’s voice, but with kicks to the ribs and my head pounding, I couldn’t tell how far away he was or if he’d make the attack stop. “What the hell are you doing, dude?” With one final punch to the face, I released the clutch I didn’t realize I’d still held, and he took off like a bat out of hell.

My body wadded itself into a tiny little ball. Everything from the waist up hurt, and I didn’t want to be touched. A man kneeled beside me and kept whispering it would be okay, that they were getting me help, while I heard another guy on the phone. The wracking sobs hurt as much as the crying did, but the stranger didn’t leave my side until the ambulance pulled away.

I’d never felt more alone.

~~~

Waking in the emergency room, by myself, behind a curtain, didn’t do much for my mood. I tried to get up to find a nurse, but my ribs were killing me, and as I became more aware of my body, every inch ached or burned. I needed a phone, but movement of any kind was brutally painful.

Just as I was about to have a full-blown panic attack, a bubbly brunette bounced through the fabric hanging from the ceiling. “How are you feeling?” she chirped, and I imagined she was a cheerleader in another life.

“Like I was trampled by a herd of elephants. Is there a phone I can use?” I winced as I dropped my leg over the side of the bed.

“Sit still and let me go get one from the nurses’ station.”

When she returned, I dialed my cell phone four times before Trace finally answered. I could tell I’d woken him up. He didn’t understand why I didn’t want him to wake Miss Pearl but finally relented and said he’d call Jase and tell him where I was. I prayed he got the message right, but with a four-year-old and a hot-headed man, there was no telling how this telephone game would go. I glanced at the clock and gave Jase thirty minutes. If I didn’t hear from him or see him by then, I’d have to call Trace back and have him wake my neighbor.

Seven minutes later, I heard Jase before I saw him, raising all matter of Cain in an effort to find me. I didn’t have the energy to call out to him, and I was sure the teenybopper who’d been in moments ago would be more than happy to direct him to me…by the hand…with her phone number strategically placed inside.

Sure enough, the curtain parted, and her peppy face peeked through. “Is this who you’re looking for?”

He brushed by her to reach me but stopped short of actually touching me. “What the hell happened? Trace is terrified.”

“Can you call him back and tell him you’re with me and I’m okay, please?” I leaned back on the bed to try to stop the pounding in my head, but just as Jase finished talking to my son, a doctor came in.

“Your x-rays look good.” Funny, I didn’t recall getting any. “Nothing’s broken, but you do have a couple of fractured ribs, so they’re going to be sore for a while. We stitched up the cut on your scalp, but the others are fairly superficial and just have to heal, so keep them clean. I’ll get you a script for some pain medication, and we’ll get you discharged. Any questions?”

I shook my head, and he promptly left.

“What happened, Gia?” The worry etched in his brow made me feel awful. “How long have you been here, and why don’t you have the phone I gave you?”