Page 51 of Property of Camo

“I bet you would, you dirty bitch. You would have plenty to pick from with the Kings.” He winks.

We laugh and get back to work, singing and dancing because it makes the time fly.

A zip of electricity rushes through my body, seconds before the gym is plunged into darkness, and the music shuts off.

“Skyla,” Clark calls out.

“Over by the front desk,” I reply, just as the glass main doors shatter.

I hear Clark calling me again, but my own screams drown out his voice. I cover my face, protecting myself from the flying glass.

Shards of glass cut into my arms as I fall to the floor.

The sound of glass crunching under footsteps makes me look up, shaking seeing two men all dressed in black with their faces covered.

“Go deal with the man-bitch; I was told to deal with this nosy bitch,” one guy snarls.

I channel my training and slowly push to my feet, ignoring the stinging pain from the cuts. Before I can brace myself, he grips me by the hair, pulling me the rest of the way up.

His breath smells of stale beer and smoke.

“You are one nosy fucking cunt, aren’t you, bitch? You just couldn’t keep your fucking nose out of people’s business, could you? Stay the fuck away from the kid, if you know what is goodfor you.” He yanks my hair, making me scream. “He told me that you were a pretty bitch; fuck, I could have some fun with you. Make you scream or cry, not bothered by which, I just want to hear you.” Fear ripples through me at his words but I do not recognize his voice, so it is not Aston’s stepfather.

“Leave her alone, you bastard,” Clark bellows, then I hear grunting.

Pulling against the hold on my hair, I look across the room and see Clark fighting with the other guy. And he is winning.

Knowing I need to fight back, I channel Clark’s fighting energy. I pull back my fist and slam it into the fucker’s thigh, hoping to give him a dead leg, but it doesn’t work. He growls, throwing me away from him, and I roll to a stop against a display stand.

“You cunt.” He charges me, and I brace for the hit.

His palm connects with my cheek, and I cry out as the sting vibrates through my face. Instead of crying and being weak, I brush my hair back from my face and smile up at the man, grinning like a fool.

“You call that a hit? You just bitch slapped me, you weak, pathetic man. I suppose you like to hit people smaller than you, don’t you? Well, I fight back,bitch.” He growls.

“We’ll see.” He raises his hand up, ready to strike me again.

“Your boss likes to beat on kids, he is too chickenshit to do his own dirty work.” I laugh.

“Mouthy cunt, too. Back off, before you get really hurt,” he snarls, spit foaming from his mouth.

“No, I don’t think I will. I will do whatever it takes to make Aston safe. You tell your boss to hire a man with fucking big balls next time, because you are shit at this intimidation act.” I know that I am riling him up, putting myself in more danger if he snaps and hits me for real.

I hate that Tate and his contact can’t remove him from the home as there is not enough evidence, but they are keeping an eye on the situation.

“You are a mouthy little cunt, aren’t you? I have something that will fill that mouth to shut you up.” He reaches for his belt, and I shiver, as fear runs through me.

Before he can undo the buckle, his friend comes over and slams into him, all sweaty, with blood dripping down his face.

“We needed to scare her, man, that’s it. Fuck, I did not sign up to rape her. Come on, we need to leave.” He looks over his shoulder, seeing Clark storming across the room, looking like he is ready to rip the guy’s head off.

“You have your warning. Keep away.”

They both bolt for the door, with Clark hot on their heels.

Climbing to my feet, I sway a little, my back hurting from when I hit the stand. My shoulder feels like it is on fire as well as my cheek from the slap. Stepping over to the front desk, I lean against it, taking deep breaths to soothe my erratic beating heart.

“Skyla, honey.” Clark stops in front of me, breathing as hard as I am.

---