Beautiful PRICK by Sophia Kenzie Read Free Book Online Page B

picture in particular. It’s a candid
shot of Johnny and the shepherd, both sitting on the beach staring off into the
water.
     
    They look so peaceful, so happy, so… and I’m hugging the
picture.
     
    Okay, I have to leave. I quickly scan the room for my bag,
and then remember that I still don’t have my bag. My bag is at the studio, in
Johnny’s trailer, along with the keys to my car and my apartment. I can’t stay
here,I know that. Staying here is not an
option.
     
    It’s a little chilly outside, as the sun has stopped warming
the city and only the soft breeze has taken over. I wrap my arms around myself
and swiftly walk to the gates of the studio.
     
    “Hi there.” I put on my best I’m not drunk face. “I’m
Johnny Braylock’s personal assistant, and I left my bag with my badge in his
trailer. Is there any way one of you nice gentlemen would be able to walk me to
the back of the lot so I can retrieve it?”
     
    The two middle-aged men quickly glance at each other before
one nods in my direction. “I’ll take a walk with you, Miss.”
    “Thank you so much. I feel like a scatter-brain!”
     
    I hum a little to try and break the extremely awkward
silence between us, but the security guard doesn’t flinch. We walk the rest of
the way hearing only the sound of a late night shoot in the distance.
     
    After stepping into the trailer, I quickly rifle through my
bag, and pull out my ID badge. “See. I belong here.”
    “I had no doubt, Miss. Do you need me to call you a cab?” He
lowers his eyes at me as I stumble down the trailer steps.
     
    I’m still not sober enough to drive, so a cab would be the
next best option. Now I’m embarrassed. I don’t want him to think I can’t take
care of myself.
     
    “Oh no, I’m fine, thank you. I think a nice walk is just
what I need.”
     
    Only the walk is twelve miles, and the only way I know how
to navigate those twelve miles is on the highway. Maybe I should’ve thought
this through.
     
    But now I’m in it, and changing my mind would only make me
seem weak. I don’t really know why I care what this security guard thinks of
me, but for some reason, I’m determined to prove my independence.
     
    I think quickly about calling Melissa to see if she’ll come
out and save me, but it’s now two in the morning, and I really don’t want to be
a bother.
     
    So, I start my twelve-mile walk. The city is oddly quiet,
desolate-at least this area. New York isn’t like that. There aren’t many places
you can walk around at two in the morning and be the only person on the street.
There are bars, diners, people walking their dogs, and couples walking hand in
hand as they enjoy the crisp night air. That’s just New York,you’re never alone.
     
    But here… here is different… and different feels… well, it
doesn’t feel safe.
     
    I see the silhouettes of four or five people up ahead, and
start to feel a little better about my circumstances. I’m already about ten
blocks from the studio, and this is the first group of people I’ve seen. But as
I start to near them, the little hairs on the back of my neck begin to rise. My
skin pricks and my stomach sinks.
     
    Something is wrong.
     
    “Hey little lady. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
     
    I politely smile, but don’t engage. I keep my eyes down and
keep up my pace, now passing them.
     
    “What is a pretty little thing like you doing out here all
alone?”
     
    I hear one of them call from behind me. I step faster,
hoping to get away without seeming too obviously fearful.
     
    “Answer me when I talk to you.”
    “Do you need company?”
    “She must think she’s better than us.”
    “Why else would she be ignoring us?”
     
    They keep talking: they keep getting closer. They must be
walking fast now. I wonder if I should stop and confront them. Would that make
them leave me alone? Would that end this harassment?
     
    I figure I’ll give it a try.
     
    So I stop.
     
    “What can I do for you