"Hey Bella, do you know where the Arcelius client file is?" Asked James, my boss. We had been working non-stop in the office. We had to pull off some new deal and we were exhausted. It was two thirty am in the morning. "Umm I think it's ...." I mumbled as I shuffled around looking for places where it might be. "Aha! There you go" I said as I handed him the file. "Thank you, go home and get some rest, Bella. You've been working a long time. You need your rest." I began to protest at the prospect of leaving him and all my pending work behind but James cut me off with "Go home. It's an order." He was the best boss in the world. He was caring. I had known James for about 3 years now. I had worked my way to the top alongside of him. He was the brains behind this huge multi-national, finance company and I was his assistant. I loved my job. It wasn't an everyday assistant's job. My degree from Harvard wasn't so that I could rot in an office being someone who simply answered the phone and took down messages. It was so that I could be something. I went with James to his meetings, helped make some of the decisions, I made presentations and met new clients and went to all the lavish dinners that we had to attend for all the company's clients. And of-course I manned the telephones and took down messages and made his appointments. James was married to Emily. She comes into the office a lot and I often spoke to her on the phone. She's sweet and caring and definitely not what you would expect out of the wife of someone with such a high position in such a huge company. She didn't have a chip on her shoulder. Far from that. They also had a little girl named Ally. She was the cutest thing in the world.
I started packing my stuff and left the office. I didn't have a car. I took the subway. Now it might be stupid for someone to take the subway so late at night but it didn't occur to me. I was exhausted. I got in and was on the train home. It was deserted. Not a single person on the train. Not a single person at the station come to think of it. I finally reached my stop and exited the train. Now the station was deserted as expected and being the boarding school bred girl that I am I didn't care. I walked through the lonely underground tunnel that would soon emerge onto the street opposite from where I live when I heard "Where the hell do you think your going?" I turned around, shock and fear evident on my face, mirroring the way I felt at the moment. I saw two men, clad in what my friend Alice would classify as "hobo" clothes. I had heard of things like this, but never in a million years did I think I would be in a position like this. "Yeah where do you think your going?" Sneered the other one. Then the first one pushed me up against the cool underground wall. Hard. I couldn't help the whimper that flew from my mouth. He then roughly shoved his hands up my shirt and started slobbering all over my face. I was terrified and too scared to move. I kept chanting in my head "Please let this not be happening". He continued to molest me and I felt the tears run down my cheeks. "Whatchu cryin' bout whore?" Sneered the other one. I felt him pinch my side painfully. I resisted the urge to cry out in pain, not wanting to give them the satisfaction and then so quickly, that I barely saw it happen, they were both lying on the floor in front of me. I was still shaking in fear and I couldn't help the strangled sob that escaped my throat. I was too focused on trying to emotionally shut down myself and block out what had just happened to notice the figure standing in front of me. I hadn't even bothered the comprehend how the two fuckheads had ended up on the floor. I then felt warm hands envelop me as I sobbed. I didn't even bother to react. Maybe he wanted some too. I waited for it. I waited to feel his hands all over me, for him to shove me up against the wall roughly and slobber me, but that didn't happen. He continued to hold me there while I cried against his chest, he kept whispering "shhhh it's going to be okay". After what felt like forever he gently pried me from himself and that's when I looked into his gorgeous green eyes. It struck me that he wasn't one of those low lives. Just someone brave enough to knock them out and save someone stupid enough to take the subway so late at night. I just stared at him until he cleared his throat and gently asked me. "I need to get you to a hospital. You don't seem to be able to walk. I'm going to carry you. Is that okay?" I nodded numbly. I didn't mind this kind, gorgeous stranger carrying me. I felt safe with him. As odd as it was I knew he wouldn't hurt me. I was still in shock. He walked with me in his arms to the nearest hospital and I was soon attended to. I didn't pay attention. I was still in shock. The time flew by monotonously and then he was sitting beside me. My face gently cradled between his two hands. "Is there someone I could call for you? Family? Friends?" I just shook my head. My parents were dead. My friends were all on holiday and I didn't want to bother James at this moment. He had been through enough of my shit. I knew he'd come and he'd be horribly worried so I didn't want to call him. "The doctors have cleared you. I know this must be hard for you and I can't say I understand. I don't even know if you feel like cringing away from every man, including me, but there is no way I am allowing you to go home alone, in this state after what you've been through. I am going to take you home. Is that alright?" Again, I just nodded. We soon got into a taxi and I gave the cab driver my address tonelessly. When we got to my apartment, I just walked robotically up the stairs until I reached my door. I had no idea he was trailing behind me. He then cleared his throat and mumbled something about going home and about how sorry he was about what had nearly happened and that's when I snapped out of my numb haze and said "Please don't go. Come in for something." I was grasping at straws. I hadn't thanked him yet, and I didn't want to be left alone. Oddly enough he was the only person I would prefer to be with at this minute. After asking me if I was sure a million times, he followed me into the apartment. It was then that I spotted his bruising knuckles. He must have injured them when he knocked out those men. "Your knuckles are swelling and the skin is broken. I'm going to go get something to help them with. Make yourself at home." He began protesting but I was already walking away into the room where I stashed my first-aid kit.