Page 2 of Stables

My lungs burn, but it’s overshadowed by the panic rioting through my chest.

Paisley.

“Let’s find whatever bitch you brought home, huh?” Matt snakes his fingers through my bound hair and jerks me hard enough it feels like needles in my scalp.

“Please, Matt? There’s no one else here!” I try not to cry out when he twists his fist, half raising me off of the tile.

“We’ll see. This is what you get, Char. Flaunting around like you’re trying to sell your ass. It’s a good thing I saw you today.” He drags me with him as he walks.

Trying to cling to his hand doesn’t help. My knee bangs hard enough into the table that it moves the heavy oak.

Dammit that hurts.

A shrill scream erupts from the bedroom. Matt turns and strides down the hall with me kicking along next to him, trying to keep the last of my hair from being yanked out.

“Who’s in there?” He stands in the entry while Paisley’s wails heighten.

She’s scared of him too.

“Maybe he’s hidden in our room?” Turning abruptly, he swings me around until my face meets the hard corner leading into the hall.

Pain explodes from my cheek and mouth.

It dulls Paisley’s cries. A throbbing heat forms in my lips, making the skin feel tight and hot.

I want to tell him this isn’t his house. I’m not his.

Now is not a good time.

A warm and wet feeling creeps down my chin and drips against my neck.

Blood.

“Huh, no one here. Except us. How ‘bout a fuck for old time’s sake?” He wrenches me up off of the floor and throws me across the end of the bed face down.

This can’t be happening.

The weight of his hand presses on my lower back.

I don’t want to move. But I want to flail and kick. Fight and bite.

He’d kill me.

Tamping down the panic that pounds in my chest, I only allow myself to ball my hands into fists beneath my belly.

Please be fast.

His nails scratch my hip as he digs at the waist of my jeans.

The best decision I could have ever made was to put them on when I went to the barn.

If I still had the dress on…I don’t want to think about it.

“Fuck. Take these off,” he slurs.

Knocking comes down the hall from the living room.

“Char? Are you here?” Libby calls out.

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