I had just found out that my so-called friend, Peter, had really been working for my sugar daddy, Keith’s, wife all along. And here I was, stuck in the car with Peter. But I was desperate to get home as soon as possible so that I could just put this all behind me.
We drove past Keith’s office, and about five minutes later, we pulled into an extremely narrow side street. Up ahead, there was another car that was blocking the road. I told Peter to just speed through as fast as possible—that isolated area was known for serious robberies. I had never felt as scared as I did that day. “Let’s get out of here and if we hit them, we’ll report it tomorrow,” I said again through clenched teeth.
As Peter sped ahead, both cars’ mirrors hit each other. Peter stopped. He and the other driver both came out of their cars arguing, while I was screaming, “Get back in the car, Peter. Please get back in the car!”
As I looked to my right, I could see a tall lanky figure approaching my window and as he came around, I quickly locked myself in. But the windows were down and he reached in, grabbed a hold of me, and yelled, “B*tch, this is a robbery!”
I begged and pleaded with him not to hurt me and told him to take whatever he wanted. I noticed another car coming from the direction that we were heading. They must have seen what was happening and started reversing. The light from the other car distracted the lanky robber and his grip loosened. I pulled my arm away, jumped over to the driver’s side, and ran out of the car towards some nearby houses.
As I ran, I could hear a car coming behind me. I thought to myself, “This is it! I’m dead.” Then I heard Peter yelling, “Get in the car! They left!”
“How did you get away?” I asked as tears ran down my face.
“I jumped into some bushes,” he replied.
“Yet you have no scratches or dirt on you? Take me to the police station,” I said. I didn’t want to go with him, but I had no other option. The robbers had taken every form of identification I had on me. They had taken my purse, my cell phones, my ring, and my watch—everything I had on me.
By the time we got to the police station and I placed my complaint, a patrol car was already out looking for them. It turns out that the other car that had reversed out had already called the cops, but by the time the cops arrived, the car had already disappeared. I lodged my complaint and called my ex, Kirk, to come get me. The officer told me to report back to the station the next morning.
The next day, Kirk accompanied me to the station and Peter was nowhere to be found. I had gotten a new phone and my network provider reinstated my old number. Peter called later stating that he had food poisoning and that’s why he never turned up at the station. I dismissed him because, in my heart, I knew he was somehow involved in it all.
I was hoping that would be the end of it, but sadly, it was only just the beginning…