You are my mums (a Lucy Bronze fanfic) - Book 2

Chapter 35 - Things can only get better

Rosie's POV:

"Fuck, fuck, fuck". I cursed inside my head - stress and fear pulsing through my veins. Two men, each wearing dark, heavy clothes with their hands shoved inside their pockets, proceeded towards me. Each wore a winter hat on their heads, despite the warm humidity hanging in the air. Trying not to make eye contact, or even look at them, I told myself to walk confidently and quickly. 

As they drew closer, my eyes remained fixed on something in the distance. Originally, they were walking in single file down the narrow pathway. Slowly and subtly, the second man drifted into position beside his friend - completely blocking the alleyway. Noticing this, I slowed my pace down until I completely paused. They didn't make an effort to talk or move, but simply stood still observing me. 

Anxiety must have been radiating off me, palpable in the post-downpour, heavy air. There was no denying of it, I was terrified. Being faced with a compeltely unknown, petrifying situation , I replayed all the moments throughout the evening that had led to this point. Ultimately, it all came down to me being lazy and not wanting to walk the long way round back home. Imagine explaining that to Lucy, I nearly got kidnapped because I couldn't be bothered to walk. She would simply never let me live it down.

Worst case scenarios surged through my tired brain - being kidnapped, being attacked, being raped. And they're only a few.

I just wanted my mum. That sounds pathetic. But it's true. Somehow she always has a way of making me feel safe - from the very first day we met I felt at rest with her. There hasn't been a time where I've felt unsafe in her company. 

My whole body physically trembled with fear, not just metaphorically. It made me feel sick. The uncertainty of what was about to happen, combined with my fear, made a deadly combination. 

One man spoke in a thick, Spanish accent, the smell of cigarettes further increasing my nausea, "We're not here to cause any trouble, we just want what's ours. Hand it over and we'll leave you be". I took a deep breath, processing his words. His dark eyebrows frowned, "Listen here, that money belongs to us. You either hand it over now, or we do it the hard way. And you know what we're capable of". I realised that staying silent probably wasn't the best thing to do in this situation so I spoke honestly, an apparent quiver in my voice, "I'm sorry, I think this is a mixup. I don't know what you're talking about". The second man began to speak, "I thought the girl was Spanish-..." but received an elbow in the ribs and a growl, "Shut up and let me deal with this". 

After speaking a whole sentence without stuttering, it gave me a bit of confidence. But that was soon shut down when the first man took a step forward and placed a hand on my shoulder, "Stop lying...stupid girl. Do the right thing and hand it over". Holding my hands up in the air in an act of innocence, I told them, "I haven't got anything". A deathly look was shone into my eyes before he called to the second man, "Search her". 

Before I could protest, forceful hands were shoved into my pockets, scrambling for the money they thought I possessed. When he emerged with nothing, the first man roared into my face, anger seizing his body, "Where have you put it?!". Not responding to his question only infuriated him further, my body shoved into the rough concrete wall behind me. That hurt. A metallic taste of blood entered my mouth, accompanying the throbbing in the back of my head. It hurt more than being stood on in the middle of a football pitch with sharp studs in the freezing weather. 

He decided to search me himself, clearly not trusting his friend. When he still couldn't find what he was so desperate for, he took my phone and launched it away from him in anger. Upon impact with the floor, my 2 month old phone spilt into two - the screen and back flying in different directions. It lay helpless on the stony floor, cracked, shattered, broken. Much beyond repair.