It was not the dirty old men or the random stranger trying to play grab ass at the night club that put an extra jolt in her step on her way home, but the angry drunk following her slurring horrors under his breath that made her fear for her life. She had never been a very religious person but she prayed to make it home alive tonight. Work at the bar was getting ridiculous; the late nights seemed to keep getting later and later. Downtown Phoenix wasn't the nicest place, but it was home and she would be damned if she would be afraid in her own home. Jenna Shawn was the afternoon/evening waitress for a hole in the wall bar; most nights she worked until 2, but stayed until 3 cleaning up here and there to help out the elderly overnight cleaner, Jason. He was a sweet older man who 20 years younger probably could have stolen her heart. Not many of her coworkers helped him out too often so it became sort of her extra job to pre-clean.
Tonight was no different than any other night she worked, with one exception, tonight a particularly large man who spent too long at the bar draining shot after shot down his pipes staring at her all the while making nasty suggestive comments for far too long followed her more than half way. He hung around the back until she left grabbing her ass as she stepped out the door, a swift slap made him keep his distance. He probably doesn't know what he's doing or where he's going. She brushed him off and kept walking but quickened her pace when she heard him quicken his. Soon she was running at full speed keys slapping her sides hair stuck in her mouth and eyes. She ran home slamming the door behind her and locking every latch available. Her eye glued to the peephole for a solid 30 minutes and on and off the next 45, sleep was not happening any time soon. She paced her kitchen for an hour before peeling off her dirty bar scented skirt and t-shirt.
The sun blared in her eyes and warmed the room. She rolled out and took a warm shower, she got out and laid in the sun to dry off, the breeze and warmth felt nice on her bare skin. She fell asleep on her living room floor for an immeasurable amount of time. A knock sounded at the door jarring her from a dream, she rolled over onto her stomach calling out tiredly, "Ups, delivery. I need a signature." A man's deep voice called out forcing her to get up and cover herself. "Yeah, yeah, give me a minute." She slipped on a tank top and shorts, anything else would have been too warm this time of year. As she pulled all the locks and opened the door the particularly large man from last night stood looming over her; Jenna wasn't tall or large by any means in fact she was quite small earning her the nickname 'slick' around work for her incredible agility and speed. This man used no effort to push her inside and push her down. He was no longer drunk but determined, 'ohmygod; did he follow me last night? I fucking ran! No way!' "Let me go you asshole!" She slapped his face...but soon paled at the realization that it made no difference. He was going to kill her and no one would know or care. Her stomach dropped as she felt the bulge in his pants rub against her knee.
