’What lucky day, running into a real prize like this.’
The punks exchanged a glance. Hearing her, they didn’t move aside. Instead, they pressed closer, teasing, "This path is so narrow. How are we supposed to make way?"
"How about..." one of them said, his lecherous gaze roving over her body, "you just squeeze past us guys?"
After he spoke, they all laughed together, their disgusting intentions on full display.
Joanna Kennedy felt their gazes were like greasy maggots from a gutter, sticking to her and making her skin crawl.
’Damn it all, I’m so over this. I knew I shouldn’t have co.’
She instinctively took a step back, her beautiful brows furrowed. Not even deigning to look at them, she said impatiently, "Good dogs don’t block the path."
Her expression was one of pure arrogance, but on her face, it ca off as a sort of charming haughtiness that made one’s heart itch with desire.
"Heh, feisty. I like it!" The leader of the punks grinned lewdly, casually raising a hand to touch her face.
Joanna Kennedy had nowhere left to retreat. Her fingers clenched into fists at her sides. Seeing the hand about to touch her face, she steeled herself and bolted.
’If you can’t beat them, run. I’m not an idiot.’
"Shit, the little bitch dares to run!" Their expressions changed as they cursed and gave chase, not forgetting to threaten her. "We’ll really ss you up in a bit!"
Joanna Kennedy hiked up her skirt and sprinted forward in her five-centiter heels, too scared to look back for fear of being caught.
Unfortunately, the difference in their abilities was too great. The footsteps behind her grew closer and closer. Panic finally crept into her eyes, and in her fright, she wasn’t watching the path. Her high heel landed on a stone.
Joanna Kennedy felt a sharp pain in her ankle and, the next mont, fell flat on the ground.
’Of all the rotten luck, I hit my forehead. This must be my unlucky day.’
The second before she passed out, Joanna Kennedy heard the sound of a bicycle being violently thrown to the side.
When she woke up again, the dim yellow light above hurt her eyes. She raised a hand to shield them and touched her bruised forehead.
’OWW! It hurts like hell!!’
She winced and grimaced, screaming silently. She touched her forehead again—the feel of gauze.
She lifted her skirt to check her ankle and slled the scent of safflower oil. Her scraped knee had also been treated.
Joanna Kennedy rembered the last sound she heard, the blurry figure she saw... it was Simon Lockwood.
’Simon Lockwood, on his way ho from work, saw after I’d face-planted like an idiot...’
Joanna Kennedy lay back with a wooden expression. "[166, I kind of want to die.]"
"[Hang in there. It’s just embarrassing,]" 166 offered so half-hearted consolation. "[It’s not the first ti you’ve embarrassed yourself. You’ll get used to it.]"
Joanna Kennedy: "[...You don’t love anymore.]"
A faint, clean scent of soap drifted from the pillow. Joanna Kennedy deduced this must be Simon Lockwood’s room. Feeling a little awkward, she got up and walked out of the bedroom door into pitch darkness.
"[Where’s Simon Lockwood?]"
didn’t answer.
Joanna Kennedy fumbled for the light switch. The mont she turned it on, she was startled by the person sitting on the small sofa.
"Seriously, what are you doing sitting here in the dark in the middle of the night?!" Joanna Kennedy snapped at the silently sitting Simon Lockwood.
Simon Lockwood’s eyes were downcast, his expression unreadable. "Thinking."
"About what?" She naturally squeezed in next to him, her tone unconsciously turning petulant. "You don’t even care about ."
Only then did Simon Lockwood slowly move his gaze to her face. "...Does it hurt?"
"Of course it hurts." Joanna Kennedy’s face scrunched up. "It hurts like hell."
A glaring purple bruise on her fair forehead, scraped skin on her knee revealing traces of blood, and an ankle swollen beyond recognition.
’A pampered, high-society young lady.’
’How could it not hurt...?’
Under the light, Simon Lockwood’s eyes were a little red. His voice was hoarse. "I didn’t know... you were coming."
’If only I had co ho earlier.’
Joanna Kennedy was so beautiful, all alone in this old alley. Simon Lockwood didn’t dare to imagine what terrible things might have happened to her if he had arrived just a little later...
"I didn’t tell you, so it’s normal that you didn’t know," Joanna Kennedy said, seemingly oblivious to his emotional state. Her tone was vicious. "Tomorrow, I’m going to find so people to beat the crap out of them, then gouge their eyes out, and then send them to the police!"
The pampered young lady, who had never suffered such injustice, was furious. She tried to think of other ways to torture them, then rembered with frustration that she hadn’t even gotten a clear look at the punks’ faces.
’This crappy place obviously doesn’t have any security caras!’
Joanna Kennedy’s expression shifted. A thought occurred, and her eyes lit up. Simon Lockwood lived here, too. Maybe he knew them.
"Simon Lockwood, you—"
Before she could finish, she was suddenly pulled into an embrace.
Joanna Kennedy found herself nestled against the boy’s broad, warm chest. The hug was so tight it hurt. "...Wh-what’s wrong?"
"I’m sorry..."
Simon Lockwood’s voice was low and raspy, like a ball of cotton stuck in her heart, making her feel a little suffocated.
She took a deep breath and pretended to be angry. "Right, it’s all your fault. The break started so many days ago, and you didn’t even try to see , so I had to co find you..."
In reality, she had been the one deliberately ignoring him, not replying to his ssages or answering his calls.
But at this mont, hearing her muffled, stuffy complaints, Simon Lockwood suddenly didn’t want to hold any of that against her. "It’s my fault..."
Joanna Kennedy awkwardly said she forgave him.
After a long while, Simon Lockwood heard the girl let out a small yawn. He sighed softly. "Go to sleep."
It was too late, and Joanna Kennedy was injured, so he told her to sleep in his room.
Joanna Kennedy was drowsy and dazed, but she didn’t forget to ask, "What about you?"
’This place is so small, there’s probably only one bedroom.’
Simon Lockwood nuzzled her cheek. "I’ll sleep on the sofa."
"But the sofa is so small," Joanna Kennedy frowned. A thought occurred to her, her cheeks flushing slightly as her gaze darted around. "Why don’t we... together..."
"...Don’t ss around." Simon Lockwood looked a little flustered. He put on a stern face. "Joanna Kennedy, you’re a girl. You need to be more aware of your safety."
’You can’t say things like that to the opposite sex.’
"But you’re my boyfriend..."
"That doesn’t matter," Simon Lockwood said seriously, trying to act nonchalant even as his neck flushed red with embarrassnt.
Joanna Kennedy ducked her head to hide a smile, but her words sounded like she was lashing out from embarrassnt. "Fine, if you say so! Hmph, I’ll just go to sleep by myself."
Simon Lockwood: "..."
The bedroom door was slamd shut with a BANG. Simon Lockwood stared at the closed door as the gentleness in his eyes was gradually replaced by an icy coldness.
’The alley was too dark; I didn’t get a good look at their faces either. But I can guess who they were. It could only be that sa group.’
Drifting in and out of sleep, Joanna Kennedy felt her wounds begin to throb painfully. Tears stread from the reddened corners of her eyes. "[Sob... 166, do you have any ho redies for pain?]"
166, annoyed by her crying, replied: "[No, no, I don’t.]"
Joanna Kennedy rolled onto her side, burying her face in the pillow to cry.
"[Go wake Simon Lockwood up and have him take you to the hospital,]" 166 couldn’t help but say.
Joanna Kennedy shook her head, sobbing. "[No, then you’ll just say I’m trying to seduce him again.]"
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