Page 16 of Run with Me

I took a step back. My stomach filled with nerves and my heart pounded as I grabbed a carving knife from the kitchen drawer. I held it down by my leg, my grip slippery with sweat.

“Go home, Ben. It’slate.”

Instead, he pulled his arm back, covered his fist with a cloth he must have picked up off the porch, and punched through one of the glass panes. I jumped up as broken pieces shattered to the floor, and as soon as the initial shock wore off I hurried toward the door with my knife, jabbing it straight through his hand as he reached for thelock.

“Fuck!”

He yanked his injured hand back and kicked the door in. I ran around the kitchen table, screaming, “Getout!”

Ben approached with determination. When I looked into his eyes, I could see the devil lurking there. Mateo and Pablo followed him in, blocking me from the other side, and I wished that I had stayed at John’s, or that John had stayed withme.

“Not until I get what Iwant.”

My stomach twisted. I wanted to hurl. I wanted to run until my legs could not take me any further. I wanted to get as far away from here, from Pace, as fast as possible, but when I turned around to head for the front door, Mateo grabbed me by my ponytail. My body jerked backward as he pulled and twisted me around.

Ben closed the broken door and kicked the knife I’d dropped to the side. Blood oozed from his hand. He grabbed a cloth off a kitchen hook and pressed it to the wound. “You’re going to pay for this, mi carina.”

His words were calculated which turned the blood in my veins to ice. It was more difficult to breathe, and the room spun. Despite the resistance in my veins, my heart was pounding like a jackhammer.

Mateo stuffed something into my mouth and tied a rag around my face before I had the mind to scream. Even if I did, I doubted anyone would hear me. I thrashed and twisted, but my strength was nothing compared to the men’s. My body was thrown forward across the table. I stared ahead at Ben as he smirked, chewing his disgusting tobacco.

As Pablo held my hands over the table, I braced myself for what was about to happen and felt my heart constrict with pain. My first time wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It was supposed to be John, on our wedding night. The engagement ring on my finger slid off and fell to the floor as Pablo held my wrists together.

My dress was lifted from the back and Ben’s hands snaked up my inner thighs. Something cold touched my hip, and I realized that Ben had picked up the knife and cut through the fabric. My panties fell to the floor, and I began sobbing. He leaned down, the weight of his body over mine from behind. Nausea overwhelmed me as he whispered with his beer and cigarette-infused breath.

“I told you that you would bemine.”

I chose to forget the next fifteen minutes. Unfortunately, they’d be a constant reminder of this monster for the rest of mylife.

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