"Scream and I'll kill you," he said. His voice held a deep, guttural bass that resonated through he hallway, sending shivers through her body as soon as his words hit her.
Her name was Lola, and she stared up at the stranger with widened eyes. Her pulse was struggling to keep up with itself as her gaze lowered down to the shiny, silver blade that he held, lightly pressed against her stomach. A gloved hand covered her mouth leaving a sour, rubbery taste on her tongue. She felt his breath blow over her face as he loomed over her, pushing her up against her wall. With plans of going to bed, she was bra-less clothed only in a thin lace vest top and cotton shorts. Through her thin attire, she felt wetness where his body connected with hers, but she was in too much shock to react or wonder what it was.
Quiet sobs began to emerge from upstairs causing the intruder's eyes to snap towards her staircase.
"There's a baby in the house?"
Not able to speak, Lola slowly nodded her head. At the sound of her son's cries, her fear increased as the realisation of not only her, but her young son getting hurt, came to surface. She mentally prayed that, he, whoever he was, got what he wanted and left her house with little or no trouble.
"Who else is in this house?" His black eyes fell back on her.
Lola tried to see if she recognised his distinctive voice but nothing came to mind. Upon realising that she couldn't reply with his hand covering her mouth, he lowered it giving her a chance to answer. Her lips remained sealed, too scared to move. She could still feel the tip of the blade at her abdomen and didn't want him to accidently pierce her skin.
"Answer me." He commanded in a smooth tone.
Feeling how dry her throat was, she swallowed, staring into his dark eyes. "No one," she croaked.
"You're Lola?"
Her eyes widened. How did he know her name? With no time or confidence to question him, she nodded her head. Through the thick material that covered his face, she saw his eyes narrow as he studied her from head to toe.
"How old are you?" He asked.
"Nineteen," she whispered.
He paused, and there they stood in her hallway staring each other down, neither one of them saying anything. The baby's cries were gradually increasing and soon she began to see the annoyance building up within him.
"It's only you two, yeah?" Lola nodded once more. He ushered his head towards the staircase. "Walk."
She stood frozen on the spot and he tried to push her forward. He saw the fear in her brown eyes.
"Please don't hurt my baby," she said.
His name was Joseph. And at the moment, he looked at her in surprise that the baby belonged to her. Then it clicked.
Young, single mum living in a council flat.
He relaxed a little. He mentally congratulated his friend, Jeremy on his choice of person. She wasn't going to be a problem - as long as she did as she was told.
"I won't. Just listen to what I tell you," he said.
Shaking, she began to slowly climb her stairs with Joseph close behind her. His arm was wrapped firmly around her waist with the blade still pointed to her stomach. She entered the first room on the right which was her son's room. She had only been living in her flat for a few months and hadn't gotten round to setting everything up yet. Joseph's eyes slid around the room only to see a cot in the far corner and a small white wardrobe perched on the other side. Other than that, the room was decorated with cardboard boxes containing furniture that hadn't yet been set up or unpacked. Then, his gaze settled on the baby in its cradle. It was tiny, barely taking up any space as it lay on its stomach, shuffling around in discomfort as its cries became louder. Joseph winced as three cough-like sounds escaped it before the shrieking began.
"Make it stop," he told her.
Lola, who had been stood close to Joseph still as a church mouse, cautiously stepped out of his embrace before sprinting over to her son. She bent down and picked him up from the cot, bouncing lightly up and down and cradling his head to her chest as she soothed him. "Shh, baby. It's okay, mummy's here."
Joseph watched her silently, still cautious of her every move in case she tried something. Lola could still feel dampness on her thighs and stomach where he had come in contact with her, and used this free opportunity to look down at herself. She stilled, her pulse rate soaring as she stared at the crimson damp patches on her clothes and skin. Her eyes quickly pivoted back to the boy and it was then when she could see him clearly. He was dressed in all black but some areas of his clothes were darker than others.
"You're bleeding," she stated the obvious, her voice shaky with panic.
Not able to mask his hurt anymore, Joseph peeled off the balaclava on his head, throwing it on the ground. Lola's heart stopped. He was... beautiful. She couldn't believe that the person that had been hidden under the mask was the same person she was looking at now. She didn't know what to do with herself. She wasn't expecting him to look like...this. Her eyes roamed over his dark eyes situated under a pair of thick eyebrows, smooth, even chocolate skin and a defined jawline that seemed forever clenched.
She was still confused as to how he knew about her when she had never seen him in her life; she certainly wouldn't have forgotten him had she seen him before.
His tongue ran over his pump lips as his face contorted to one of pain once again. "I've been stabbed and you're gonna help me," he said to her.
Her gaze darted down to his hand which now cradled his stomach, and she soon realised that it was where most of the blood was coming from. By now her baby had calmed down and she turned around to place him gently back into his cot. When she turned back to face him, she gasped when she found him lying on her floor.
