2 - the attacker

"We accept the love we think we deserve."

― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower CHAPTER - 2

Olivia Woods

A week went by and I survived the café, much to Cassandra's surprise. It was a challenge. My stutter was bad with new people. I could barely speak sometimes. Some people made fun of it so I just cried it out on Georgia's shoulder and but I pushed through and tried to make my stutter less.

I'd be lying if I said that I had not expected Cassandra to throw me out because of my stutters but instead she snapped at everyone who made fun of it. She was kind. She was really really kind, as kind as she was mean. Which was powerful.

I walked out of my econ class, my feet dragging on the ground and I read the message Georgis had sent.

George Washington - I'm waiting.

I sighed. I was tired. I was so tired. Working in the cafe was tiring, and yesterday I got hit by inspiration in the middle of the freaking night and painted till five in the morning, then woke up at nine for my first class.

I'm coming.

I had promised her. I couldn't ditch her.

I pocketed my phone and walked out of the building, before I could get the heck off the campus, I heard someone call out my name.

I looked over my shoulder as Professor Daniver, my art history professor who was brilliant at what he did, approached me. His brown hair was styled

in perfection, his thin body covered in a brown suit and his light-colored eyes fixed on me. "Hello, Miss Woods."

I smiled. "H-hello, Professor." I cursed myself internally. I knew him. Why was I stuttering? His intense eyes always make me nervous. Maybe it was his handsomeness. Everyone has a crush on him.

He smiled at me. "I wanted to talk to you about the paper you submitted yesterday."

I frowned. "D-did I do something wrong?" I asked, my fingers fiddling together.

He shook his head. "No, nothing wrong. I-" I felt an arm on my shoulders.

Georgia smiled at me, her blond hair up in a neat ponytail and body covered with a leather jacket, marron top, and black jeans. Her narrow face was good of any make up except the thick line of eyeliner around her bright blue eyes. "Let's go, Livy." She looked at Professor Daniver.

I looked at the professor. "I actually have to-"

Professor Daniver shook his head. "Go," he said, his eyes fixed on Georgia. "We'll talk soon later." He walked away.

Georgia and I walked out of the campus.

"Where do you want to go?" She asked me as she hailed a taxi. I shrugged. "Anywhere."

. . .

I was laying in the central park beside her. "Life sucks," she told me.

"Hm?" I knew it sucked.

I rolled onto my stomach and opened my book. "How's your job?" Georgia worked multiple jobs. She and my mother shared a secret, too, something I hey didn't know I knew about. I let them pretend that I didn't know because confronting them would be...exhausting and I'd cry for days.

"Shit," she muttered. "I want to murder everyone in the damn diner." I chuckled. "Do it, then."

"I just might." She rolled on her stomach too, her shoulder touching mine and she looked into my book. "What are you reading?"

"Inferno by Dante Alighieri."

Her nose wrinkled. "What's it about?"

"It describes Dante's journey through hell, what happens at the different-" She rolled on her back. "Boring."

I protested. "It's really cool!" "You believe in hell?"

I shrugged. "I believe in everything till I'm given a reason not to." She chuckled. "How was Santa's truth for you?"

I smiled. "I cried for a week." I did a lot of that, crying. When you are as weak as me, that's the only way you get it out. Get it all out.

. . .

It was late, I knew. It was too freaking late to be walking in the dark. I cursed myself for forgetting my purse and phone at home. I had overslept and had just about half an hour to get ready for work. I had quickly dressed in dark brown pants and a black t-shirt which was the uniform of the cafe,

adding it up with flat brown boots because I was not standing up in heels for so much time. I always took a taxi, that was the only thing I used my mother's money for.

Today, I could not do that.

My black jacket was on my shoulders and I knew I would look like a target to anyone. I was a little scared. I pushed my glasses back from the tip of my button nose and kept walking on the sidewalk. I lived in Brooklyn in a small studio apartment, it was my second year in college, and life in New York City had been good so far.

Just when I was about three blocks away from my apartment, I heard someone following me.

I walked faster, digging into my leather jacket to grab the pepper spray. That was one thing I never forgot to take with me. One thing I could never forget to take with me.

The steps quickened. It was one man, his steps heavy and infrequent as if...drunk.

I ran. If he was drunk he wouldn't be able to grab me. But his steps quickened till he was running. He had tricked me?

I ran, I ran fast as I could, but he got me. He grabbed my arm and I was thrown to the ground. I looked up at the man with blurry eyes, my glasses had fallen off. I took the pepper spray out but he easily grabbed it from my hand and threw it away.

"Little Olivia," he said. I recognized his voice, I knew it was familiar, I just couldn't place it, my heart was beating so fast I could barely breathe. Don't hurt me. Don't hurt me. Don't hurt me.

He grabbed me by the hair but just then I heard it, the screech of tires. He let go of me, making me slam my head on the sidewalk, and ran away, disappearing into the darkness of the night with the efficiency of a true predator.

I shakingly sat up, my hands trembling as I searched around for my glasses. The blur in my eyes had worsened because of my tears. My head hurt but it was not bad.

I saw someone crouch down beside me, and then two more appeared. "You are hurt." Zavier Creed.

What?

I froze momentarily. The Creeds. They must have seen me, searching around blindly for my glasses.

"M-my g-glasses," I whispered, a sob breaking through my lips, I was nearly hyperventilating.

"Here." Ashton Creed.

I felt him put the glasses on my nose and I breathed out a sigh of relief, finally able to see. I looked at them, first at Xerxes, then at Ashton and then Zavier. In their suit, it looked like they were coming home from work. But didn't they live in Manhattan? A limousine was parked nearby.

"T-thank you," I whispered shaking, getting on my feet, wrapping my arms around myself. I felt horrible.

"Who hurt you? Did you see their face?" Xerxes asked me, eyes emotionless as they looked into mine. I could have sworn they softened when a hiccup let my lips.

"I don't know," I whispered. "M-my glasses were g-gone off as soon as he grabbed me." I rubbed my hands up and down my arms even though I didn't feel cold. I wanted to sleep. I was so tired.

"Let us drop you home."

I shook my head. "I-it's near, I'll go." I was scared of them, too. I didn't know them. They could hurt me, too. And they appeared strong. Rumors

about them were horrible. The last thing I wanted was to get attention from mafia men.

"Then we'll walk with you." Zavier shrugged, using a tone that demanded obedience as if he was used to getting obedience.

I didn't want them to know my address.

I bit into my bottom lip. "I-I can go!" I insisted, almost shrinking as their eyes heated. "P-please," I whispered.

They watched me for a long moment and then Ashton nodded. "Go."

I turned around and walked away, feeling their eyes on me till I took a turn. I entered my apartment building and ran upstairs. I unlocked my apartment and stepped inside, closing it and locking it. I pushed my table against it for good measure and my cupboard against the window.

From the little gap which the cupboard had left for me to peek out, I watched as a limousine passed by.

I knew it had slowed a little when it passed my apartment building. I let out a shaky breath.

I knew it were the Creeds in it. Now they knew where I lived.

. . .

Question - do you like the cover or do you really like the cover?