Through My Window (Hidalgos #1)(24)

However, due to laziness, I make a very bad decision.

I take a shortcut.

To get to my neighborhood faster, I decide to cross under a bridge to shorten the path. It’s dark and lonely under there, and I don’t take into account the men who rely on that darkness to get high or sell illegal substances. My feet freeze when I see three men under the bridge. With the darkness serving as camouflage, I don’t see them until I’m almost in front of them.

“Do you want something, pretty girl?” one of them asks. His voice is deep, and he coughs a little.

My heart speeds up, and my hands sweat. “No, I don’t. . . . No.”

“Did you get lost?”

“I … I took the w-wrong way,” I stutter, and one of them laughs.

“If you want to come through here, you have to give us something.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m going the other way.”

I’m about to turn and leave when my phone rings, breaking the silence. Frantically, I take it out of my pocket, silence the call, and put it away again, but it’s too late.

“Oh, that phone looks nice, don’t you think, John?”

“Yeah, that would be a good birthday present for my daughter.”

I try to run, but one of them grabs my arm, dragging me into the darkness under the bridge. I scream as loud as I can, but he covers my mouth and holds me by the hair, keeping me still.

“Shh! Easy, pretty girl. We’re not going to do anything to you, just give us the phone.”

Tears fill my eyes. The man smells of alcohol and other chemicals I don’t recognize.

“The phone. Now,” demands another one of them, but I can’t move. Fear has me paralyzed. I want to move my hand and take out my phone, but I can’t.

The third man emerges from the shadows. He has a cigarette clamped between his teeth and a scar on his face. “It’s in her pocket, hold her.”

No, don’t touch me!

I scream, but the sound is muted by the hands of the man holding me. The one with the scar approaches me and puts his hand in the pocket of my pants, licking his lips. I want to vomit.

Please help me.

He pulls out my phone and examines it. “Nice, and it looks as good as new, it’ll be a good gift for your daughter.” He passes it to the other man, but his disturbing eyes never leave my face. “You’re very pretty.”

“Shall we let her go? We already have the phone,” asks the one holding me.

“Yeah, John, that’s enough.”

John looks at me and his eyes lower to my body.

No, please don’t.

The one holding me lets me go, but John grabs me and pulls me backward toward him, covering my mouth again. I can’t breathe properly, and I can’t move.

Help!

“John, she’s probably my daughter’s age.”

“Shut up, assholes!” His shout echoes in my ear. “Get out of here.”

“But . . .”

“Get out of here!”

The two men exchange glances, and I plead with them with my eyes, but they leave.

No. God, please don’t.

John drags me under the bridge, and I start kicking and fighting desperately. He grabs me by the hair and turns me toward him. “Cooperate, I don’t want to hurt you more than necessary. But if you scream, it’s going to go real bad for you, pretty girl.”

As soon as he releases my mouth, I scream. “Help me! Please—”

He hits me. I didn’t even see him raise his hand. I only feel the strong impact on my right cheek. I’ve never been hit before; I’ve never felt such strong, sudden pain. It throws me off balance and sends me to the ground. Everything spins, and my right ear throbs. I can taste blood in my mouth.

“Is anyone there?” I hear a voice from the bridge above, and it sounds like God. “What’s going on?”

John panics and runs away, and I crawl to sit up. “Help! Down here!” My voice sounds weak. The whole right side of my face throbs.

“Oh God!” It’s a man’s voice. In a few seconds that feel like an eternity, he appears in front of me. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

I can’t talk, I have a lump in my throat. I just want to go home. I just want to be safe. He kneels in front of me.

“God, are you all right?”

I manage to nod my head.

“Should I call the police? Can you walk?”

With his help, I get up, and we move away from that hellish darkness.

Mom . . .

House.

Safe.

That’s all my brain can think of when the man lends me his phone. With trembling fingers, I dial the only number I know: my mother’s. But she doesn’t answer, and my heart sinks in my chest. Tears blur my vision.

“Do you want me to call the police?

No, I don’t want cops, I don’t want questions. I just want to go home where I’m safe and where no one can hurt me. But I don’t have the courage to walk alone, not again, and I don’t want to ask this stranger to walk with me. And then I remember that my mother’s phone number was the only one I knew until recently. Until Ares started texting me.

At this point I don’t care what he and I have agreed, I just need someone to take me home. This call is my only salvation, and if Ares doesn’t answer, I don’t know what I’ll do.