Free The Choosing by Rachelle Dekker

skin.
    “Well, well, well, how did the little Lint get out of her cage?” one man taunted. He was the shorter of the two, round and dressed in a typical brown uniform, which meant he most likely worked in the Farm Lands.
    “Someone musta let her out accidentally,” the taller man said. “Or else she escaped.” His uniform was identical in color and fit him loosely, while the shorter man’s clothes pulled much too tightly across him.
    “Guess the big question then is: Are you a good Lint or a bad Lint?” the short man asked. The other chuckled deep inside his throat and inched toward Carrington with a lascivious look in his eyes.
    She stepped back and her skin crawled with the idea of what was clearly on their minds. She turned and started back to the small side door that would lead to Alfred. The taller one rushed to cut off her path and Carrington pulled up hard to keep from running into him.
    “Whoa, whoa, little Lint. We didn’t say you could leave.”
    “Please, I need to get back,” Carrington said.
    “Oh yeah, you need to get back. What do you think, Wes? Girly says she needs to get back,” the tall one said.
    Wes clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I don’t think that’s going to work for us, little Lint. What do you think, Tate?”
    “Nope, definitely not going to work,” Tate said.
    The siren in Carrington’s head was screaming and she glanced over her shoulder to find Wes directly behind her. “Please . . .”
    “Begging. Just like a Lint to beg,” Wes said. He spat on the ground and laughed. Tate laughed as well and Carrington could feel the blood in her veins turning fearfully cold.
    “Oh, don’t look so scared. We’re good men; we’ll help you back,” Tate said.
    “This way, was it?” Wes said, pushing Carrington forward. Tate stuck out his leg, tripping her, and she landed with a heavy thud. She felt the ground drag rubble through the skin on her palms, and pain shot up her arm as her wrist took on more pressure than it was used to.
    The wicked laughter of her attackers echoed in the alley as Carrington pushed herself up onto her knees.
    “Oh, here,” Wes said, crouching down beside her. “Let me help ya.” He reached out and placed his hand around her arm. She yanked it away as tears started to gather.
    “Careful, Wes   —looks like this one could bite,” Tate said.
    Wes reached out and gripped Carrington’s shoulders with enough force to make her cry out. She felt Wes lowerhis face close to her ear, and the warmth from his breath spread down her neck.
    “Don’t worry, little Lint. I prefer them with a bit of fight.”
    Wes tightened his hold on her shoulders and she could feel his nails bite at her flesh. A few tears slipped from her eyes and she begged the heavens for rescue.
    “Hey,” another voice called. It was deeper than the voices of the two men terrorizing her, and for a moment she thought maybe a third member was here to join in their twisted game.
    “Officer,” Tate said. Wes’s grip eased and he pulled his face away from Carrington’s.
    “What is going on?” the new voice asked.
    “Nothing, sir. We were walking by and saw the Lint take a fall, so we were checking on her,” Wes said.
    Heavy boots echoed toward her and their black shine came into Carrington’s line of vision. Her heart filled with relief because she knew those boots belonged to a CityWatch guard.
    “Come on, girly,” Wes said, trying to assist Carrington back into a standing position. She stood with him and pulled away from his touch the moment she was stable. The guard’s face came into view and Carrington felt an urge to throw herself into his arms. It was her familiar kind-eyed protector.
    His face was filled with concern as he glanced over her. She dusted off her shirt and tried to place a cap on her tears. He must have seen them anyway, because shewatched his face grow dark and he shifted his eyes toward the two men behind her.
    “Get out,” he said.
    His heavy