Her Wicked Hero by Caitlyn O'leary

Author:Caitlyn O'leary [O’Leary, Caitlyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Passionately Kind Publishing

9

Buy flowers. Pick up Christie from ballet. E-mail the report to Ms. Franklin. What was she forgetting? Oh yeah, hit the mall, so she could get some of Lesley’s favorite bath bombs and the cashmere blanket, how could she have forgotten?

“Excited much?” she asked herself.

Marcia admitted she was both excited and scared. This was the third time Lesley had been in rehab, and she was praying the third time was the charm. It did seem different, for one it was longer, and two, Lesley had already worked out a plan for aftercare which she had never done before.

She’d even called Marcia and told her to get rid of all the sweets in the house. That was the reason she hadn’t baked a cake. Please God, please God, please God say this time it was going to be different. Thinking about Lesley’s aftercare reminded Marcia she needed to prod Mr. B. to call Debbie’s psychologist. She really thought they might need to up the appointments from one to two a week. Borneo still had its grips on the young girl.

Marcia pulled into the mall parking garage and couldn’t find one single spot until she reached the top level which is where she parked her little Honda. An hour. You need to be at ballet in an hour, so get your ass in gear. She practically ran to the entrance. She wanted to get things done in forty-five minutes, so she could call back Zed and find out exactly when his plane was going to land in three days.

Shopping was a blur. She was just happy she wasn’t snarky to the lady in front of her at the beauty and bath store who insisted on telling the clerk her life story when making a five-dollar purchase. She was still thinking about that when she scooted past the white van parked perpendicular to her car.

“Marcia?”

Her blood ran cold. She looked up and saw Raymond’s arm reaching out toward her as another man started to open up the side door of the van. How did he know her real name?

“Rape!” she screamed at the top of her lungs and started running.

She didn’t see anyone, not one single person. Her head swung wildly. Stairs? Elevator? Ramp? Definitely ramp.

“Rape!” she kept screaming and running.

Marcia saw stars when she hit the pavement. A big body was on top of her. Then she felt a hand covering her mouth, her nose. She couldn’t breathe. She shook her head back and forth, trying to work the hand loose. When it moved, she took a bite.

“Motherfucker!”

He slammed her head into the pavement.

“I’ve called the police,” a woman yelled.

Marcia felt herself hauled up off the ground. Raymond was going to take her. Over her dead body. She struggled like mad, clawing, kicking, she turned her head to bite.

“I’ve got a gun, if you don’t let her go, I’ll shoot,” the woman sounded resolute.

She heard a shot, then another.

A muffled scream, then the sound of tires squealing and getting closer.

“Don’t think you’re getting away, Girly.

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