The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed in the quiet street as Julian continued his assault on my attacker. Each blow was calculated, methodical, fueled by a rage I hadn't seen in years. Blood sprayed with every impact, painting the pavement in crimson droplets.
I watched from where I sat on the ground, clutching Julian's jacket around my shoulders. The memory of how he had saved me seven years ago played on repeat in my mind.
"If they bully you, hit them to death."
His words from back then suddenly gave me strength. Despite my twisted ankle and bruised cheek, I pushed myself to my feet. My attacker lay moaning on the ground, his face almost unrecognizable from Julian's beating. But anger surged through me, washing away some of the terror.
I limped over to where my purse had fallen during the struggle. Inside was my backup pepper spray—smaller than the one I'd emptied earlier, but still effective. With trembling fingers, I retrieved it.
