"Help!!" I screamed.

He slapped me.

He reached over me and slammed the door shut himself, saying to Hank, "Thank's good buddy. We'll settle later too."

Hank looked a little scared.

A few people had gotten out of their cars, and they were looking like they thought SOMEONE should help me… not them, necessarily, but someone should do something.

No one did anything.

Johnny screeched out of the parking lot peeling rubber and leaving a cloud of thick, acrid smoke, and within a couple of seconds, he was out of the city limits, flying down the road at about a hundred miles an hour.

"Slow down, Johnny," I said, really scared. I didn't even care at that point if he beat me up. I just didn't want to wind up wrapped around a telephone pole.

He didn't say anything.

"Johnny, you didn't have to talk that way about me to your friends."

"I'll do anything I damn well please, and if you don't like it, you fucking keep your mouth shut and put up with it anyway. You hear?"

"No!"

He slapped me, never even looking at me. His hand ripped across my face.

I tasted blood on my lip where he'd connected.

"You motherfucker. You shitass pig. I hate you. I HATE YOU!!"

He hit me again.

I went crazy and jumped him.

Now… I'm sure there are those of you who will argue that jumping a maniac when he's got the gas pedal floored is not the brightest thing to do.

Neither was going out with Johnny Waddell in the first place. I just couldn't seem to find myself where he was concerned.

I wrapped my hands around his neck and started to squeeze, but that was stupid.

I could hardly get them all the way around, even using both hands at the same time.

He placed his big paw against my tits, and first, he squeezed them hard… real hard… and then he shoved me backwards against the door on the passenger's side.