Page 20 of Overcast

A man of so many words, but when he speaks, he sucks the whole room of its power.

He illustrates that nothing scares him.

A man’s man, one who has no heart or sympathy for those around him.

And now I have the misfortune of being in his midst.

He nods at my severed broomstick, taking in a deep hit of his weed. “Aren’t you going to hit me with that thing?” My nostrils flare because my own body betrays me every time he’s around.

Fear is a powerful entity that just takes over everything, and I’m not courageous. I’m a loyal and faithful servant to how it makes me feel.

Nothing clicks inside of me to get me to move or stick up for my own well- being in this situation that I shouldn’t even be in in the first place.

I’ve been manipulated and violated in so many ways that it’s pathetic to think that I’m used to it. I’ve permitted things to be how they are.

To let Hollis put his hands on me and not questioning Dad when he’d be gone for days doing whatever it was he did when I wasn’t even six-years-old—

“Where is my father?” I ask abruptly.

Not seeming too surprised with my question, he only blinks at me. “Not doing too hot.”

My eyes practically bulge from my head. “What?”

“You give me an answer to one of my questions...I’ll throw you something.”

“I don’t have answers. You have to believe me.” My knuckles tighten around the wooden rod. “Please. I—” My words are cut off as pain immediately shoots throughout my leg and right up into my gut.

A loud growl permeates past my dread as my chin bows into my chest, trying to get past the sudden burst of pain. My teeth rattle before I clench them tightly together to keep from losing consciousness in front of the monster before me.

My mouth opens, a silent scream wanting to rip through the air between us, but nothing leaves.

Nothing ever makes its way out.

The spasm of pain ticks, drives, throbs everywhere, and dizziness starts to emerge through my head.

Then Emric’s hand begins to twist something, and I flick my eyes up to see it.

The blade that was sticking from my thigh for the last, at least, twenty-four hours, is now in front of my face—with my blood, fresh and caked along its jagged edges.

Bile churns in the empty pit of my stomach, and I’m going to throw up.

I know it.

And if I do, I’ll be in for another round of hell on Earth with the man before me.

Prompting myself to swiftly move before I can think anymore about it, I reach for the blanket that Mills brought down to me. My hands bump into Emric’s leg, trying to insert pressure on the wound, but he doesn’t withdraw a muscle to get out of my way.

I need to stop the bleeding before it’s uncontrollable. My imagination is already picturing it pouring out of me like lava erupting out of a volcano.

Pulling my leg closer to me, I clamp my eyes shut at the agony, attempting to block it out. Emric remains grounded to his spot, ever the looming nuisance.

“Did I mention how beautiful you were?” My eyes fly open, watching him watch me.

My face twists at his sentiment, gentle off his lips, and…am I losing my mind down here?

Did he just compliment me after yanking the knife out that he thrust into my body to make my wound worse?

“It’s a damn shame that I’m going to have to fuck your face up.”

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