Free Half Blood by Lauren Dawes Page B

hard against the brickwork. Indi’s head connected with the bricks and the dark-fuzzies were back. She could feel her eyes rolling around in her head, but she couldn’t lose consciousness now. She’d end up dead if she did. She pushed against the cut on her finger until the sting of the cut dragged her back from semi-consciousness.
    He brought the tip of the knife to her cheek and pressed it into her skin to make a small dimple without drawing any blood. Indi was suddenly having a moment of clarity, wondering whether this man was the rapist. It was only her twisted luck that would land her in a dark alleyway with him. Her promise to herself came roaring back. She wouldn’t be used like that again.
    ‘Doesn’t your wife indulge your other fucked up sexual appetites?’ she asked, positioning the sharp edge of the glass at her hip. He was only slightly taller than her which meant that if he pressed his body any closer to hers, or rushed her, his stomach would be pierced first. Belly wounds could be fatal. Although he had a knife pressed against her skin, she knew that he didn’t want to cut her face up. Men like him liked their women pretty and unmarred. He was bluffing. He didn’t have the balls to slice up her face … at least that was what she was hoping. She breathed through her pounding pulse and licked her desert-dry lips.
    Wright laughed. ‘You have a lot of spirit, don’t you?’
    ‘Spirit?’ she asked in disbelief. ‘Try a fucking bad attitude.’
    He moved his face closer until she felt his hot breath on her cheek. ‘I like spirit,’ he whispered before kissing her roughly on the mouth. She bit him on the lip, drawing blood. She spat in his face again and took the opportunity that she’d just created as he took a step away from her.
    Driving her hand up and forward, she felt the glass slice into his belly. He let out a yelp and backed away from her, his hand going to a spot just left of his belly button. She looked down at the bottle, finding the sharp edge only half an inch long. Realising the gravity of her error, she dived for the dumpster and the knife beneath it.
    ‘You bitch!’ he hissed, tackling her around the knees as her fingers brushed past the handle of her blade. She landed face first on the ground, putting her hands out in front of her to break the fall. Rocks, broken glass and dirt filled the grazes on her palms, but she could live with that. Wright flipped her over onto her back, unzipping his pants and tearing at hers.
    Indi kicked out, landing a blow to his throat. His desperate gasps for air filled the dark alleyway and Indi leaped up. She obviously hadn’t kicked him hard enough because he was also on his feet and trying to drive her into the wall again. His hands were all over her body as he tried to finish getting her pants off. She struggled to get free, but as soon as he pinned her arms above her head, she knew she was a little more than screwed.
    His breath was hot on her skin as he nuzzled into her neck and collarbone.
    ‘Let me go,’ she hissed, jerking her body around so that he couldn’t get one solid grip.
    He pulled away to look at her face. ‘That’s right, fight it,’ he all but growled. He inhaled deeply. ‘I can smell your fear.’ She fought both her revulsion and her natural instincts by going completely still. She knew her eyes would have been distant, disassociated. This was exactly what she wanted to happen. She let him feel the full weight of her body as he held her by the wrists, giving him the appearance of submission. He relaxed his grip and lowered her arms.
    She drove her knee up into his groin hard. Wright crumpled onto himself, his knees hitting the cold hard concrete beneath with a sickening thud . Indi shuffled sideways away from his thrashing body, never taking her eyes off his murderous glare. When she got to the dumpster, she slid to her knees and then her stomach to retrieve her knife. When her fingers wrapped around the handle, she stood