Three of them. Three bloody intruders... I wondered how they got in. This must be people that already had access, and that's just me, Annie and... Jim.
Dressed in black from head to toe. Faces hidden behind cheap nylon masks that barely muffled their breath. I counted their shadows before I counted their eyes. They moved like predators. Slow. Purposeful. But I was ready.
They didn't expect me to be standing there—wide awake, barefoot, in a tank top and sweats, staring them down like the grim reaper in pink bunny slippers.
"That's the bïtch," one of them sneered. "Don't you sleep too?"
That voice.
I froze for half a second. Not out of fear—but recognition.
Jim.
Anne's loverboy. The slimeball who'd tried to force himself on me days ago. The same man who limped out of this house swearing revenge. I wanted to laugh because it was strange that he thinks he could actually get revenge on me. With some other two guys of his size. How pathetic.
He stepped closer and ripped off his mask with a dramatic flourish, like I'd be shocked.
"Oh, baby," he said, baring his crooked grin. "You've got a hell of a memory. I told these boys—this one's a fighter. But tonight? You're not just mine. You're ours."
My stomach flipped, not from fear, but from disgust.
The other two—faceless cowards—began undoing their belts. My fists clenched.
They thought I was prey.
I smiled.
"Are you really sure," I asked calmly, "that you want to do this?"
Jim laughed. "Still with the sass? You'll be whimpering soon. I'm going to ensure I fuck you till you have sores and you're bleeding."
"That's if you even get the chance to see my panties. And also if your dick would be able to handle it" I said laughing sinisterly.
That must have hurt his pride because his friends cleared their throat, trying not to laugh.
He lunged first.
He grabbed my arm and tried to twist it behind me, like he was some bouncer in a bar fight. I twisted with him, planted my foot, and slammed my elbow hard into his cheekbone.
CRACK.
He let go, staggered back with a curse, holding his face. "You crazy bitch!"
The other two weren't far behind.
One swung a punch at me—I ducked it and came up with a sharp strike toward his ribs. He dodged again, fast. Too fast.
The second one caught me off guard. A blow straight to my face.
PAK!
Pain exploded across my nose, hot and dizzying. I staggered, blinking. The warmth of blood poured fast, thick down my lips. My eyes watered instantly, blurring everything. My legs wavered.
I touched my nose.
Blood.
Oh, hell no. How did I let him hit me there, It's been a very long time I did this, and I haven't been training, I really got very rusty. I wanted to play it cool with the guys because I don't want them leaving here half dead, and I also don't want to wake Anne's guests upstairs
I snapped.
That's when I stopped playing fair.
I turned to the one who'd hit me and slapped him—hard. He looked stunned, like he didn't think I had it in me. He never expected it either.
"You touch my face again," I hissed, "and I'll rearrange yours permanently."
I didn't wait for a reply. I spun, gripped his wrist, and flung him across the room, aiming for the wall. His body slammed into it with a loud thud, knocking over a lamp.
The other one was already running at me. I lifted my leg and delivered a high kick to his jaw before he could finish his stride. He grunted and dropped like a sack of flour.
"Shh..." I said, "I have guests, I don't want them to wake up.
Jim had recovered now. His cheek was swollen, but his rage was louder than his pain.
He came at me like a rabid beast.
I tried to land a second kick, but he grabbed my ankle mid-air and twisted.
"Arghhh!" I screamed, falling hard.
My hip smacked the ground, and he landed over me, pinning my leg under his weight. He gripped my ankle and yanked it at a terrible angle.
CRACK.
I bit my tongue not to scream again. The pain shot through my entire body.
He was grinning, blood on his teeth.
"You had this coming, girl. I told you I'd be back. Told you we'd finish this. You made me look like a fool."
"You did that all by yourself," I snarled.
I twisted under him, using my good leg to push him off with a violent shove. He fell backward, knocking his head against the edge of the coffee table. I rolled to the side, gasping.
But before I could regain my footing—
The third guy, barely injured, ran toward me with something in his hand.
Something sharp.
I turned, chest heaving.
Then I heard the door.
"Sidney?!"
Carl.
He burst into the room, eyes wide, shirtless, and scanning. His eyes landed on me, then the blood, then the three intruders.
"Oh my God!" he yelled, sprinting across the room. "Sidney—!"
But before he could reach me—
WHAM!
A hard object hit me from behind. Something heavy. Something fast.
My head snapped forward.
Stars exploded in my vision.
I felt my body go limp.
Carl's voice was the last thing I heard.
"Sidney!"
And then, darkness.
I started having dreams, amazing dreams of Carl fighting for me. I've never had any man fight for me and most especially a man I am developing a crush on.
Maybe I've never had a reason to have a man fight for me because I barely step out, I barely know anyone.
In my dream, Carl had beaten those guys up and took me to my room, he carried me like a baby and resting on his arms and chest was the most comforting thing ever.
It was just I and Carl in that dream, us against the world. He watched me as I lay down, smiling sheepishly at him.