* * *
When the alarm on my phone goes off at five, I haven’t slept much, but I can’t risk being late for work. The gangs and criminals are mostly active at night. At this time, most of them will be passed out from alcohol or drug abuse. There’s little chance I’ll run into any unfavorable elements on the street. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I pull on my clean dress. I lock the door, drag the trash bags with our broken crockery downstairs, and hit the streets.
My trainers fall quietly on the pavement as I dodge the potholes filled with water. The air is fresh after the rain with steam coming off the tar. There’s a quiet after the storm, leaving me peaceful and calm, but my tranquility doesn’t last long.
A little way down the street, a tall, slender figure emerges from between two buildings.
7
Valentina
My heart lurches in my chest. Maybe he hasn’t seen me. I clutch the bag to my body, searching for a side road to slip into, but it’s too late. The man heads straight for me. I know that step. There’s a slight bend to his knees, and his arms are spread wide. My breathing quickens, and my body breaks out in a sweat, but I lift my chin and give him a defiant stare when he stops in front of me.
“Well, now,” Tiny says, “if it ain’t Little Red Riding Hood.”
“I don’t have time for your games.”
I try to move past him, but he grabs my arm.
“No time for Tiny? My, my, are you an uppity-ass, now?”
“Unlike you, I work. Let me go or I’ll be late.”
“High and mighty, huh? Tiny heard you left. Tiny was watching your flat, waiting for you.”
His words shake me. I didn’t run into him by chance. He waited for me.
“Tiny…” I want it to sound like a warning, but there’s a wheeze in my voice.
“You still owe Tiny. You’ll always owe Tiny. Tiny has waited long enough.”
He starts dragging me by my arm toward an alley. I kick in my heels and try to pry his fingers open, but his grip is like steel. Panic gets the better of me. This time is different. If he was going to fuck my mouth he would’ve done it in the street, as always.
“Tiny, no!”
“You can scream all you like. Nobody gives a fuck.”
He shoves me down the foul-smelling alley all the way to the end where the exit is blocked by overflowing trashcans and rips the plastic bag from my hands. Peering inside, he takes out my purse, drops it on the ground by his feet, and throws the rest onto the heap of garbage.
“Come here, white bitch.” He takes a wide stance and feels his way up under my dress, dragging his sweaty palms over my hip and stomach.
Oh, God, I’m going to be sick. “Don’t.”
“Or what?”
My defenselessness infuriates me. The anger boils over. I pull back and punch him on the jaw as hard as I can. For all of one second he’s off balance, but before I’m one step away, he grabs my arm and throws me against the wall. My back hits the bricks with a thud. He slaps me so hard my ears ring.
“Fucking bitch.”
I scream and scratch, my fingers going for his eyes while my knee aims for his crotch, but he catches my wrists above my head and presses my body to the wall with his weight.
“Wanna fight?” he hisses, the repugnant air from his mouth fanning my face.
“Let me go!”
He laughs and shifts, holding me secure with one hand to stick the other down the front of my panties. “What have you been doing with this cunt, huh?” His fingers drag over my clit, parting my folds.
I press my knees together, but it’s no use. He wiggles his fist until it’s lodged between my legs, forcing my thighs open.
He licks my neck, inviting a shiver of repulse.
“Tiny’s gonna fuck you so hard, you’re gonna forget your name.”
His upper body crushes me. I almost sigh in relief when he pulls his hand from my underwear, only to cry out in despair when he shoves his pants down over his hips.
Please, no. Not this.
He knocks my knuckles into the wall, but I hardly feel the pain. I need to fight. I struggle like mad person, which only makes him laugh. By the time he has his dick out of his underwear and my dress hitched up to my waist, I’m already panting from the exertion of fighting him while he hasn’t even broken into a sweat.
“Tiny.” The plea falls from my lips while tears stream down my cheeks.
“Yeah, say my name, bitch.”
When he rubs up against me, I bite my lip so hard I taste blood. The fear I’ve fought against my whole life finally gets to me, making my throat constrict and my heart pump with furious beats. It’s difficult to breathe. It happens all over again, the man who raped me. I fight the images that play over in my mind, but I’m back in the bar where the men dragged me, on my back on the pool table while the one with the deep voice unzips his fly, and the rest watch. I’m in a zone where I don’t want to be, but I can’t come back. Tiny’s hand is around his flaccid cock, pumping it to life, but I already feel the tear in my body and the dribble of blood running down my legs.