Fang Chronicles: Amy's Story, Page 2

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  Amy found a well-lit spot and glanced around. It seemed safe from rough handling and aggressive prostitutes. Looking desperate for a fix was easy. She looked like hell. It hadn’t taken forty-eight hours—twenty was sufficient. When a handsome guy smiled at her, Amy tossed her longing for sleep aside and coyly smiled back. He approached her and all she could think was how surprised she was that he needed to pay for a woman. She swayed up to him.

  His eyes traveled over her lean frame. Boldly, he placed his hand on her breast, rubbing his thumb over her nipple. Amy internally cringed, not allowing her disgust to show. She exhaled; relieved her recorder was safely sewn into the hem of her shorts and would provide a record of her experiences.

  Amy scanned the area and saw plenty of people. Though they weren’t watching her, she surprisingly felt safe. Maybe because she knew she wouldn’t go anywhere with this guy. His eyes and the way he stared at her gave her the creeps. He gently pushed her back toward the brick wall of a downtown store. The rough surface bit into her arms. She kept her eyes on his face.

  At the sting of the needle, she opened her mouth to scream. His strong hand covered her lips as his other hand caught her arms.

  Terror washed through her—overwhelming and immobilizing as the effects of the drug hit her system. Amy was frantic, her eyes seeking anyone who might notice what was happening. Her last thought as her mind went blank was that she was nothing. Just like the other girls, no one would notice her disappearance even on a street filled with people.