Page 13 of Deceit

I’m not Kyson.

I won’t just launch myself on him because there’s Scarlett to consider. I might be ten-years-old, but I recognize what men like Bubba are. They’re violent when they get mad, and they say a lot of bad words.

“Come over here.” Bubba eyes me over the rim of his bottle while I slowly approach, watching him cautiously as I do. “How long has your Mama been out?”

“A few hours.”

“Do you know with who?” I shake my head, and he suddenly reaches out to seize my arm, speedily shoving my chest into the edge of our dining room table.

My arm is twisted behind my back as I feel him step closer to brush against me.

“You’ll have to do then,” he hisses out, then slams his beer on the table next to my face. I try to tear my forearm from his grasp, but he’s strong. I feel his fingernails, some longer than others, scrape against my lower spine. Then he hastily tugs at my shorts and underwear, pulling them over my butt, and I start to thrash around wildly.

“Stop!” I yell, pushing off the chintzy surface as it rattles and knocks over the beer bottle, the sticky substance pouring from the rim.

Bubba doesn’t answer before his palm covers the back of my skull, grips my hair by the roots, and slams my forehead and nose back into the table.

I can feel the blood instantly begin to flow down my nostrils as my buttcheeks are spread open then.

Using my legs, I kick backward, fully aware that if I connect with Bubba, I’m going to get punished again.

Shoot, he’s trying to hurt me anyway.

Just like he does with Mom sometimes. I’ve seen her in the same position I am before while he thrusted against her. Except, she moans and pushes back. She appears like she enjoys it.

And I’ll kill him before he ever lays a hand on my baby sister.

Turning my head, I look down the short hallway to her bedroom. It’s dark, so I know the door is still closed because when it’s opened, the light will shine through from the sun or streetlight over our trailer.

“Fucking stand still,” Bubba grunts as something hard presses up against my rear.

I want to scream.

I need someone to hear me, but it can’t be Scarlett.

A burning pain sears my backside as Bubba’s finger thrusts deeper inside me. I bite down on my forearm and clamp my eyes shut.

If I let him do this, he’ll leave.

If I allow him this...I won’t be able to look at myself in the mirror anymore.

My heel connects with his shin, but it doesn’t do much other than make him angrier.

“I was trying to warm you up, boy,” he growls. “But you must like shit done the hard way. And I’m definitely hard.”

I answer him with another kick as I writhe to get free. My mind sprints with how I’m going to make it out of here and bring Scarlett with me. I’m not leaving her behind, no matter what happens.

My head is struck with something hard, and I gasp from shock and the pain that immediately radiates down my jaw. I feel as though my skull got split in two, and my eyes flutter to stay open because I can’t fall asleep.

Bubba grunts as something larger presses against my butt. Another burning sensation, more prominent this time. I feel a part of my body opening that shouldn’t, and I bite down on my bottom lip, tasting the copper of my blood.

“C’mon boy, open up.” Another poking against my tenderness, and I’m fighting consciousness over him trying to hurt me.

I rapidly blink my eyes, letting a stray tear fall when the trailer suddenly lights up, and my heart slams into my chest when I hear the loud squeaking of our storm door.

“What are you doing?!” Mom’s voice cries out, the door swinging shut behind her with a loud bang.

“Where thefuckwere you, Sharlene?” Bubba retorts, pulsating inside me. “I told you I was coming by.”

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