Page 5 of Overcast

He purposely abided his time, wanted this, and I played right into his sickening hands.

“Watch how easily that cock goes inside,” Hollis praises off an aroused groan. “That could be—” An abrupt crash bursts through the room, jerking my foggy attention to the direction of the front door.

An impending figure stands there, but all I can see is the black outline through my pending tears.

One finally hits my cheek as I blink before I hear the distinct rack of a gun prickling up my spine.

Hollis shifts next to me, preparing an effort to shoot up from the couch, but plops down just as quickly as he tries to stand. Although I’m confused about what’s happening, I’m relieved that Hollis’s body parts aren’t touching mine anymore.

“The fuck!” Hollis hollers, making another go of rising, but instead, he’s yanked up, stumbling forward and into the blackness that I can’t filter into color or characteristics. “Get the fuck off me!”

A heavy thud resonates off the floor, followed by another metallic clack of a weapon. My hands instinctively go up to defend myself, trailing my gaze to find that Hollis isn’t standing anymore, and two black bodies move towards the kitchen.

My breaths echo in my ears, but it’s all I hear for the moment. Until I’m following Hollis by being tugged off the couch.

My chest hits another. My palms locate solid muscles under a cotton tee, and an arm wraps around my waist.

“This is private property.”

Dad.

My body immediately tremors in fear. I’ve watched too much TruTV at my college’s coffee shop, and my first thought is that this is a robbery. A random heist to grab whatever they can carry to make money off of.

They can take that TV along with the porn.

An ear-splitting gunshot rings out again, blistering my ears, and I instantly go to cover them. That’s when I’m wrenched from my spot and lugged towards the front door.

“Wait!” My plea, I’m not sure how loud it is, but in my head, it ping pongs like in an empty building.

The coolness of the April night hits my frame as I’m dragged across the wet grass of our front yard, soaking my socks. A dog’s deep bark breaks the stillness of the neighborhood somewhere as the streetlights hover over the cars parked along the curb.

“Where are we—” Another stern tug to shut me up and make me follow quicker.

A sharp word. A hard pull or glare—that’s all I need to remain silent. To be obedient for anyone to step on and take advantage of.

With Dad, Hollis, any of his friends who eye fuck me from across the room and have grazed at least one part of their bodies against mine.

When I’ve dated, I was always a docile and faithful partner. I had no voice, never found it. It’s always been lodged in the back of my throat.

A soft pop of a trunk opens, gaining my full attention to the black car positioned in front of the neighbor’s house. My captor makes me jump the curb towards it when I suspend, soaked socks rubbing against the cement.

I expect the trespasser to pull back on me, to threaten or order me to move.

Instead, he pivots and bends down to throw me over his shoulder. Striding the rest of the way, he promptly crams me inside the compacted trunk. My back hits scattered items left before it closes overhead, leaving me in the dark—alone. Where I wanted to be moments ago but—

“She screams,” a deep male voice conveys. “Shoot her in the leg. She continues, knock her out.”

My eyes widen in the darkness before a hefty thud hits the top of the trunk.

This is serious.

This is really serious.

My night just jumped from worse to—I think—possibly life-threatening.

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