Page 68 of Second Draft

“You know it is.”

“I don’t know shit.” He grabs my wrist, twisting just enough to cause pain, but not to do any real damage. “Not about you. But I did a little digging when I was away. Had a buddy look into your past. And it looks like you weren’t as sweet and innocent as you led everyone to believe. You had quite the reputation in Springcreek.”

“Travis, you’re hurting me.” I try to stay calm despite my growing panic.

“I’ll admit it. You’re good.” He gets in my face, his breath hot and stale on my cheek. He doesn’t release me, instead his grip tightens, and I know it’ll leave a bruise. “You couldn’t have me, so you played my brother.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Right. You two are inlove,” he snorts, and moves closer to me so that his body is pressed hard against my stomach. “Were you in love with me too? How about the poor bastard that got you nocked up the first time?”

“Travis, please.” I try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge.

He’s not as big as Carter, but he’s strong, and I’m not really in a condition to fight him off. My first and only priority is to keep my baby safe.

“Or maybe that was your plan all along? Using me to get to him?” His fingers dig into my flesh. “Thought you could bag yourself a rich husband by sleeping with his brother.”

His accusations don’t even make any sense. It’s like he’s trying to find any and every excuse to think the worst of me.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“Bullshit.” He releases me, and I see his fist flying towards my face.

Oh God. All I can do is brace for the impact. I pinch my eyes closed and pull back.

Crunch.

The sound of wood splintering in my ear makes me cry out.

Travis pulls his bloody hand out of the broken cupboard door, without so much as a wince.

I know he’s on something now.

“You took my brother away from me.”

“No. Carter loves you. He’d do anything for you.”

“Like raise my kid. Or marry the slut who I got knocked up.” Blood trickles from his hand to the floor, and already it’s swollen to twice the original size.

“This isn’t you talking. You’re not like this.”

“You took everything from me. My home. My freedom. My fucking brother.” He laughs a hysterical sound, then picks up a glass from the counter and throws it across the room. It shatters on impact. “You fucked my fucking brother.”

I need to get away from him.

Not caring about the tiny shards of glass that cut into my feet, I run out of the room towards the stairs.

Panic.

Fear.

They narrow my vision, make my legs feel like jelly.

I’m not sure if Travis follows me, I just run. Hard and fast. Until a sharp pain slices across my stomach, buckling me over, and a gush of something warm and sticky rushes down my leg.

I can’t breathe. Can’t scream.

Pain.

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