Page 62 of Something So Strong

A familiar one.

One that belongs to a silver Ford F-150.

“Shit!” Millie chokes, and scrambles to her feet. “It’s Josh.”

At the other side of the field, the truck weaves until its headlights find us, then speeds up.

Still between my legs, Laura cowers into a ball, but my hands don’t leave her.

Spotlight on us, the tires brake and skid on the grass.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Trevor yells, jumping down from the pickup’s tray.

“Nothing,” Laura whimpers.

“I wasn’t talking to you, whore.” He grabs her and flings her to the side.

I look up at him without raising my head. “Same answer,” I say brazenly.

“Why the hell do you all keep hanging out with him when we tell you not to?” Amy’s boyfriend, Sean, hits the ground with a thud and stalks towards me.

“No,” Josh says calmly, stopping Sean with a hand on his chest before closing the truck’s door. “I told you I was first…. Get in the truck, Millie.”

“God, I’m getting so sick of this bullshit. We can spend time with whoever we want. We’re not your slaves.”

“Have it your way, then.” He wrings his hands maniacally. “Bring him over here.”

“Can I get in one shot first?” Trevor asks Josh like a pathetic lemming.

“No, you fucking can’t,” I answer for him, and use Laura trying to calm him down as my chance to run. But as I step over the utility pole, I realize they planned the whole thing.

They weren’t out looking for their girlfriends; they knew they were here.

They know where they go; I go. And behind the park, all the way at the other side of the field, the only place I have to run is along a narrow gravel path that surrounds the perimeter with a ten-foot chain-link fence on the other side.

“Jet!” Josh calls out, directing the football team’s wide receiver to cut me off.

“Stop!” Candace yells out to her boyfriend, but he’s already in front of me and my feet are skidding along the loose rocks as I change direction, only to be met by Trevor.

“Fuck you,” I curse—spitting at him.

Laura shrieks as he pounces.

Defiant of Josh’s orders, Jet pounds his fist into my ribs.

Wheezing on reflex, I try to break free, but am dragged back over the pole and in front of Josh.

Defenseless—with both my arms held—Josh calls me gutter trash and breaks my nose.

“Stop it, Josh!” Millie shouts, running in front of me. But he pushes her with so much force she hits the truck’s bonnet, and her head whips back before she falls to the ground.

“Dumb slut,” he belittles her.

Seeing red, I try to kick Josh.

“Think you’re clever?” he laughs, stepping aside when I try again. Then my jaw cracks as his fist strikes me. “Let him go.”

Josh’s words ring in my ears as I fight to keep balance.

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