I’m strong.
Okay, the lack of sex in what feels like a lifetime sucks, but there’s definitely more to life than being in an intimate relationship with a man.
Besides, that’s why God invented vibrators.
“Wilfred might be a blue monster,” I say, “but that doesn’t mean he’s scary because the monster stereotype says he’s mean and scary. He can be a giving monster who likes to help everyone he sees. And just because he’s a blue monster doesn’t mean he loves cookies. Does that make sense?”
All three of them nod and return to their tables.
By the time the final bell rings, I’m more than ready to go home and soak in the tub. But before I can do that, I’m scheduled to volunteer at the retirement village. I haven’t told Mathilda yet that the Christmas show doesn’t have to be canceled after all.
The kids all leave, and I pack up my stuff to work on at my place.
Landon pokes his head in the classroom, like he’s done several times during the day. “Are you going home now?”
“No, I’m volunteering first at the seniors’ residence. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’m almost finished in here. Wait for me, and I’ll walk you to your car.”
I brush him off with a wave of my hand. “You don’t need to do that. It’s not like the school’s in a bad neighborhood.”
He opens his mouth, as if he’s going to say something, but whatever that was is interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He glances at the screen, gives me the universal sign for “wait a second,” and answers it.
He turns around, talking to whoever’s on the other line, and strides back into his classroom.
Not wanting to stick around and feel like I’m eavesdropping, I grab my purse and coat, and leave.
The weather isn’t any better since this morning. The air is chilled and damp from the earlier dump of rain, and large puddles dot the near-empty parking lot.
At my car, I glance at my front tire, and a silent curse rushes through me like a gush of wind.
Fuckadoodle.
My tire is flatter than a stepped-on chunk of Play-Doh.
I let out a hard breath and crouch to examine the wheel.
Footsteps approach from behind. Before I have a chance to turn around to see who they belong to, a gloved hand covers my mouth and nose. My heart rate screeches to a halt, and a surprised scream jostles loose from me, the sound muffled by the hand.
I’m roughly yanked to my feet, and a thick arm pins me to a large, hard body.
Even without seeing who it belongs to, I know the man holding me isn’t Landon.
I struggle and squirm and kick at him. He tightens his grip, squeezing the air out of me like the coils of a giant serpent.
A giant serpent with feet.
My attempts to escape are getting me nowhere, so I lift my foot and stomp it. Hard.
My shoe makes contact with the instep of his foot.
“Fucking bitch,” he hisses in my ear.
But alas, the attack on his foot isn’t enough for him to release me.
It is enough, though, to surprise him, and his grip loosens slightly. So I do it again.
“Fucking stop that,” he growls.
