As he continued to speak, he glanced between the mirror and the road to further gauge her reaction. Something odd caught his attention each time the street lights illuminated her body. Now that he wasn’t in crisis mode, his mind was subconsciously adding up things that didn’t make logical sense. She should have more bruises.‘Yes’.Oh. Why did that make her feel worse than she already did? What did another pair of eyes on her during the worst moments of her life matter? She was letting him take her somewhere.“Was there another girl there?” she turned her head toward the window as she asked, because she couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore. He’d watched those men do terrible things to her and hadn’t lifted a finger to stop any of it. In her eyes, that made him the same as the other two men who’d hurt her. She asked if there was another girl, because the comment about ‘the body’ confused her. Something didn’t add up. Echo wasn’t ‘the body’. She’d been badly hurt, but she hadn’t been. I stare for a few seconds but he takes a look back, sees me watching so I hurry out. thoughts were racing through my mind. 'was he really wanking'... 'was he wanking over me?'.Around 25 minutes pass when I see him again, the very same man. Tall, handsome, in his 50s walking so confidently. He looks at me, I avoid eye contact and shoot off into a shop. At this point I'm very nervous, but also a little turned on.I speed up my shopping trip and head for something to eat, constantly on the look out for this mysterious man. To my relief he didn't show up. Now its time to go home so I decide to stop to go to the toilet again before I get on the train.This time around the toilet is packed. Instead of waiting for a urinal I head to on of the stalls. I'm just finishing up when I hear the door creak. I forgot to lock it like an idiot. I turn around already preparing for the awkward conversation.'Oh I'm sorry I forgot to loc--' I stop. Its him again. Just standing in the doorway.'Sorry, do you.
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