Page 100 of Ramsay

It’s a man, I know because I can feel his erection against my back. Squealing, I writhe in his grip but he’s too strong, and I can’t break loose, especially with my brain still heavy from the drugs fading in my system.

Still, I thrash around desperately, until I manage to dislodge his hand, allowing me to scream, but it has no sound behind it because I have no fucking air.

“Stop,” I croak before his hand is back over my mouth, and he’s mashing my lips against my teeth. The copper taste of blood slides down my tongue.

With his other hand, he grabs my hair and pounds my head against the ground. With no other thought but survival, I lean in and clamp my jaws around his fingers, holding on tight.

“Fuck,” he swears, pulling back.

With the momentary freedom, I push against him and struggle to turn onto my back, but he grabs my hand and twists so hard I feel something pop.

“Ahh,” I cry, before he mashes my face into the dirt.

I can’t breathe, the air in my lungs is gone, and as I fight for air, spots dance before my eyes.

“Willow? Where’d you go?” Bone calls out as a beam of light flashes over our heads.

“Fuck!” My attacker mutters before springing to his feet and escaping into the trees.

Dropping my head, I heave for air, each gasp and cough searing my throat. Bone’s light flashes over me before he drops to his knees and says cautiously, “Willow?”

∞∞∞

I’m sitting in the emergency room, and I hang my head when the nurse pops in to tell me they’re still trying to get through to my parents.

I’ve been sitting here for hours because they can’t treat me without permission, and I’m fucking miserable. My wrist throbs, my body’s bruised and scratched and my throat hurts.

Bone shifts beside me, and I glance at him from beneath the cocoon of blankets I’m huddled under because I can’t get warm to save my life.

“You can go,” I say dully.

“It’s fine,” he says.

“It’s not fine,” I mumble.

“Who was out there?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know how I got out there. What was in the weed, Bone?”

Sighing, he says, “I don’t know. But I’m gonna kill the fucker who sold it to me.”

“Hmph,” I say, turning away as Bone steps out of the room.

I’m worried about what this will do to my mom, so I haven’t admitted it to anyone, not even Bone about what happened and for now, they all think I fell in the dark.

It’s probably stupid, but this could send Mom over the edge, and I’m not ready to be responsible for that too.

It takes another agonizing hour before they reach my dad, and I emerge from the ER with a wrapped wrist, sprained and not broken, thank god.

Dad was disturbingly quiet through the whole ordeal, so much so that I jump when he lays into me in the truck. “What were you thinking, Willow?”

“I—“

“Are you doing drugs again?” he sneers, his eyes shining with disgust.

Hanging my head, I lie because I can’t stand to see anymore. My heart hurts enough.

“No,” I whisper.

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