Moving as quietly as she could, Angie snuck up behind Christina’s attacker. She needn’t have worried, though—the man was totally engrossed, slobbering on Christina’s exposed breasts and thrusting his hips at her like a rabid horn-dog. Angie held her taut purse strap out in front of her with both hands a good foot apart. With his head down, it would be difficult to get the strap wrapped around his neck. Maybe she should whack him with the purse instead. It wasn’t too heavy, but—
No, she thought, steeling herself for what she needed to do. That woman needs my help. I can’t just stand here and let this happen. What if she were me?
What then?
That settled it. Swallowing hard against the pounding of her heart, she crept closer. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror—if the man turn
