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Then she saw the large saw bladed knife, oh so menacing in aspect, and she froze in fright."Don't make a sound," I said menacingly. "Don't fight me and I'll only take your money. Do you understand?"She nodded, trying to say something from behind my hand."No sounds," I hissed.She froze, panting, which was exactly what I wanted. Frightened people don't fight, or least, they don't fight well. I dragged her back through the opening I had sprung from, then down a hallway and out into the warehouse. The clerestory windows above were almost all shattered allowing a bright light to fill the empty bay. I spied a rope hanging from one of the large beams running across the open bay and dragged the woman with me. She was limp with fright and I smiled, knowing I controlled her: her body, her mind, and her destiny.The rope was slippery yellow nylon, perfect for the task. Putting as much menace into my voice as I could to better control her, I whispered in her ear, "If you resist or move, I'm going. What was her name again?The girl also gave her the purse. Then she walked off on her towering red heels. Tap-tap into the buzzing streets. She was alone. The world swam around her.She dabbed at her swollen lip and felt her closed eye with careful fingertips. It was thick. Too tender to even touch.Her purse held her keys and a few other objects. She dug up the phone. It was out, probably broken.She scrambled to her knees and got up. One of the crazy shoes had slipped off. She kicked off the other and started walking.A barefoot day, she mused. Her lip hurt. She shouldn't grin.Hair.To be alone is not the same as being lonely. Brigitte loved to think that. She knew it was seldom true. But it had helped her through massive chunks of her life.Three days ago she had found Thibault. Ever since she had spent all her free time with him. She had embraced him with her naked body. She had flown with him over the mountain meadow, talked with him about all and nothing. She had pondered the.
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