I had just walked into the cafe to start my shift when Maggie came bouncing upto me smiling brightly. I looked at her hesitant to ask what had her so excited, but one glance at the huge bouquet of gorgeous red roses in her hand and I knew.
"Cyrus feeling romantic again?" I asked Maggie smirking slightly, it was adorable she still blushed every time he did any romantic notion for her.

"Oh no darling these are for you." Maggie said thrusting the bouquet into my arms.
"And it's got a note." She added in a singsong voice as I looked at her in confusion. Why had I gotten roses when I wasn't romantically involved with anyone?

I fished threw the flowers finding the little white note and pulled it out.
"Happy Birthday my love."
The note said in elegant script, and once I got over the initial flattery, I turned the card expecting to see a name but upon finding none I looked up at Maggie questioningly.

"Who gave these to you?" I asked her, confused as to why somebody would send such beautiful flowers without taking credit.
"I don't know, they were outside the store when I got here." She said and I shrugged, it was probably just a prank or sadly perhaps delivered to the wrong address, maybe I wasn't the only one in town who's birthday it was. After putting away my stuff I got to work organizing the books, bringing the roses out to the front with me.

"Should I just put them by the romance books? I really don't know what else to do with them." I asked Maggie, I didn't even have any glass vases in my apartment to stand them up in so they'd be put to better use here.

"You sure your secret admirer won't be offended?" She asked.

"I'm kind of just gonna keep my fingers crossed that it's a fluke, I mean the last time I got hit on was sophomore year and if it's that guy then he needs to see I'm not interested and give up. It's been 4 years." I explained.

"He wasn't your type?" She asked.

"Truth is I don't think I was his." I answered and she raised her brows in confusion at my statement but I just shook my head at her. Trying to subtly gesture to the customers who had just come in and were uncomfortably staring at the two of us.

I sent an awkward smile at the customers before walking away to the back where our romance books were. I set the flowers on the small wooden coffee table we had in the centre of two lounge chairs. The red roses actually looked very nice amongst the soft woody browns of the reading area.

The day went by quickly with me attending to the few regulars and sending side glances to the gorgeous roses. Unfortunately there wasn't even a florist company written that I could send them back to, the real recipient of the gorgeous flowers was just going to have to miss out.

Maggie wiggled her eyebrows at me every time she saw me looking at the roses making me scrunch my nose in distaste. Maggie was convinced I had a secret admirer, while I knew not to be that idealistic. It was obviously just a misunderstanding or expensive prank and I playfully rolled my eyes at her every time she suggested anything but. I wasn't involved with anyone, so unless they were from my parents who were forgetful enough to forget a card, they were pretty creepy if they were intended for me.

At lunch Jay and Sophie stopped by bringing with them a chocolate fest and while gorging myself on the delicious creamy chocolate I told them about the flowers. To my dismay that took over our conversations and they came up with multiple theories all seemingly impossible. Sophie's were entirely gruesome and always ended up with me being kidnapped by a lonely old man whether he be a farmer or a retired pirate while Jays were extremely romantic revolving around fairy tales.
Maggie had a lot of fun with Jays theories while she swatted at Sophie's head every time she heard one of her gruesome theories.

Maggie encouraged me to leave with my friends even though my shift had not ended yet, and pressed an adorably wrapped gift into my hands before I left, telling me it was from her and Cyrus both. Although I would have rather had seen Cyrus, but understandably he wasn't well enough. I knew they loved me like their own but I didn't want to go bother Cyrus if he was too ill to come into the cafe. Cyrus wasn't one to be stopped easily, he must have been extremely ill to be absent for as long as he has.

Jay and Sophie refused to listen to me and got me dolled up, dragging me to a party that one of Sophie's friends was throwing. I had tried bargaining with them, but my criminal minded friends had all but kidnapped me saying that this was for the best and I had to get out more. Admittedly I wasn't very social, but was that truly something that needed fixing? I actually quite enjoyed my introvert lifestyle.

We finally got to the house and I cringed as we walked in, the music was mind numbingly loud and the drunk people were much too excited to see each other.

I stood next to Jay trying to talk to his friends and not be my awkward self for once, trying to let loose, have fun. But really parties weren't my definition of fun. I didn't particularly understand the hype of getting intoxicated and rubbing your privates on a stranger, although if that made them happy then they were free to do as they please.

Birthdays weren't very important to me, especially not if it were my own. So if it made Sophie and Jay happy, then I'd just suffer through the loud music and putrid smell of alcohol. Also it did put my parents' minds to rest, they were afraid that I stayed in reading more than what was healthy. Their excitement over me going out had outlasted my high school years and trickled into my university. As if going away from home to live alone wasn't enough to prove my ability to take care of myself.

I soon found myself sitting on a couch in the house while my friends tried to get me to come dance with them, making odd gestures from the dance floor. Fortunately though the weird rope move Jay was currently doing worked on the couple next to me, and they made their way to the dance floor.

I stayed in my seat, laughing at their attempts before motioning to them I was leaving. To which of course they had no idea what I was saying, so I decided I would just message them and leave. Luckily I had the keys to Sophie's car who had said I could go home whenever I'd like.

I searched through my purse trying to find my phone before realizing I had left it at the cafe, realizing that was probably why I hadn't gotten a call from my parents to wish me happy birthday. I would just have to grab it from the cafe on my way home, otherwise my overprotective parents would freak out and call the cops or even show up at my apartment. I said a quick goodbye to my friends and after assuring them I would get home safely and promising to call them when I got home, I was finally out of that party.

After being cramped in a house that smelt like booze, smoke and sweat the chilly night air that caressed my skin was an absolute blessing. I sucked in a huge amount of fresh air, getting strange looks from the people who'd ventured outside of the house, not that it mattered though. I was a strange person, growing up I'd gotten used to the weirded out stares I got thrown my way. All people were different, that was accepted but the results of these differences weren't. The portrayals of them were gawked at, mocked even, especially during our youth.

I drove slowly and carefully to the cafe grabbing my spare set of keys. I got out of the car locking it and getting startled by the confirming beeping sound it made. I quickly let myself into the cafe grabbing my phone and walking back out locking the door. I smiled at my phone when I saw the sweet birthday wishes lighting up the screen.

My happiness was cut short when I suddenly felt an arm go around my waist and a large cold clammy hand clamp onto my face, preventing me from screaming. I struggled against the vile hands trying to get free but the man held me tightly. I felt him tighten his grip, effectively cutting off my air intake causing me to struggle more.

"Stop struggling hot stuff we are going to have so much fun." A croaky voice whispered into me ear. I panicked starting to feel light headed.

The absolute disgust of being touched against my will making my face twist up immediately. It seemed some people didn't understand for it wasn't uncommon for a woman to go through some form of assault through the duration of her life, and not just women but men too. To me it seemed too many of us had gone through it. Whether it had been as small as holding onto our wrist, or grabbing us, or as horrid as sexual assault, it all made you feel filthy. The way his hands gripped me tightly as if I were just an object for him to possess, to grab when he wanted, not a living breathing person.

My panicked state didn't allow me to do much damage, but the one thing that every parent, every book and movie had taught me was the only thing that stood out in my foggy mind, kick him in the groin. My leg raised on its own accord, and I reeled it back only to have the misfortune of kicking his thigh instead, the slight heel pushing into the skin, but the man was adamant on keeping his hold on me. His hand seemed to envelope my whole face now, constricting my breathing and causing my mind to get foggier nearly completely losing focus. I struggled in his hold trying to get his hand off, unintentionally ramming my elbow into his diaphragm.

He wheezed loosening his hold for a moment but tightening it again now pressing painfully onto my nose.
"You're going to regret that you little wrench." He grunts into my ear pulling my body closer to his, my eyes starting to water as oxygen fails to go into my lungs.

"I was going to go easy on you, but not anymore." He whispered into my ear. As if I owed him any compliance, at all. As if I were some doll, some pet that had to behave for him.

My struggles grew more fervent, and I kicked backwards as hard as I could, wiggling in his grasp. A slight 'oomph' sounded behind me, letting me know I'd connected with a weak spot, but he was too drunk to care about pain.

His hold on me grew tighter until it felt like I couldn't breathe, his hand covering my mouth and nose completely, not allowing any space for air to trickle in. If I passed out there was no knowing what he'd do to me, there was no escaping. No one would be out in this time of the night, not in this part of town and the people who would, wouldn't bother to help.

My lungs began to ache, begging for air, my body beginning to grow weak until it was difficult to even wiggle in his grasp.
"That's it sugar, just let go. I'll take care of ya." The man promised falsely, his words nearly falling on deaf ears as I tried once more to elbow him, only for him to squeeze my midriff tighter, until it felt like my ribs would crack.

Black dots begin to appear in my vision my panic not helping me when suddenly the man holding me was ripped off of me. My saviour was dressed in a suit, and towered over my assailant making him seem small and meek, when just moments ago he'd seemed to hold all the power. The man threw his fist into the face of the dirty old man, and I swayed slightly in my woozy state.

A loud crack resonated, ringing in my ears as I stuggle to stay conscious, but even in my panicked state I flinched, my foggy mind only conjuring up how hard it would be to clean the blood off the sidewalk from in front of the cafe. I took deep gasping breaths trying to get large amounts of air into my lungs but my already weak heart wasn't able to handle it, and I fell further into the darkness my legs crumbling under me. Warm strong arms wrapped gently around my waist and pulled me towards a broad firm chest, my head lolling back weightlessly. My eyes opening only to see stormy grey eyes surrounded by thick black lashes gazing deeply into my own, before my eyelids grew much too heavy to keep up. As the darkness sucked me into its safe hold I heard a husky deep voice whispering
"You're safe amica mea."

A/N--------------------------------------------------
Hello my lovelies, I hope you enjoy reading the book and in the book there is a Latin translation of the phrase my love, keeping in mind that Latin is an extinct language and that now every phrase has many translations the one I picked was "amica mea." Context matters a whole lot, it's like some people call their children honey, and others call their spouse honey. Many people have had an issue with this, truly you can say what you like, but no one can prove anything but if this is going to be a huge problem for you then perhaps this story isn't the best option for you. To the rest I really do hope you enjoy the book.