Page 86 of Beautiful Ruins
I grasped the door handle with shaky fingers, the cold metal barely a relief. I wrenched the door open, warm air hitting my face. But it did nothing to shake the chill in my bones. Instead, it suffocated me, every second more like a century.
“Sadie! Get the fuck back here.” Marcus was fast on my heels as I sprinted across the lawn towards Rowan’s house.
If Rowan found another man inside his house, he’d kill him. He was my only hope. I’d tried to do it myself, yet there he was, alive and breathing and chasing me down. I was so close. The desperation kept my legs moving. I could make it. Just a few more steps.
A sharp pain ripped through my skull. Marcus had gripped onto my ponytail, yanking me backwards with brutal force.
No. No, no, no.
I cried out, the sound tearing from my throat. “No!” I screamed. “Let go! Please, Marcus. I swear to God, if you don’t—”My throat closed around the words, panic slicing through whatever came next as I clawed desperately against his hand, my skin burning from the friction.
I dug my nails into him, trying to find purchase on the monster holding me hostage. If I was going to die, he wasn’t going to get away with it. I’d leave as much of my DNA on him as he did me.
A sadistic grin spread across his face as he dragged me back across the lawn, my heels scraping against the dirt. He yanked me up the porch and through the door.
I grasped the splintered doorframe, my nails scraping against the old wood, the crackle of broken planks echoing in the silence of my struggle.
“Goddamn it, Sadie,” he growled as he wrapped an arm around my waist, his strength making a mockery of my attempts to fight him off. “Let the fuck go before I hurt you.” It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.
“You bastard.” Every kick landed on empty space, my legs flailing. He was a wall of muscle, crushing me with the weight of my past. And I was a twig, splintering beneath it. “No.” My tears fell freely, my chest caving in.
He pressed me back into the dark cage that was Barrenridge. Now I was going to die in it—just like Logan had.
The door slammed shut behind us—loud, final, my coffin sealing.
“Please,” I whispered.
“Quiet,” he said against my hair, his arm tightening around my waist like a vice. “I didn’t want it to be this way, babe, but you’ve left me no choice.” He threw me to the ground, and the back of my head hit the floor with a dull thud. “No choice but to hurt you.” The back of his hand connected with my cheek with such force, my teeth sliced open the inside of my mouth, the vicious tang of blood choking me.
I cried out, static exploding in my vision until there was just darkness in front of me.
Marcus slammed my arms above my head. Pain shot through my shoulders, my back arching off the floor in resistance before it collapsed again beneath the weight of him. Then he yanked at the waistband of my shorts, desperate and violent.
I shook my head, tears flicking. The weight of him buried me in hopelessness, suffocating and blinding. A strangled cry tore loose, a cry from the depths of my soul. I thrashed beneath him, but his grip was too strong as he tore at my underwear.
Fabric ripped against my skin, the sensation a trigger that dulled my senses, numbed me from head to toe. There was no air, no space, no way out.
“Fuck, now I remember,” Marcus growled, forcing my legs apart, his breath hot on my face. “I know exactly how to break you.” Beads of sweat dripped onto my cheek as he fumbled with his belt, frantic and hurried like a crazed man about to devour his last meal.
Then the button on his jeans popped, and my entire body went still, cold and vacant.
The fight had drained out of me, my desperate pleading now just a silent loop inside my head. I stared at the ceiling, at the water stain bleeding through the peeling paint.
Mum had always been nagging Dad to fix it up. He never did. Never had time to paint, to clean, to notice.
Was that why I’d ended up with someone like Marcus? Was I always destined for this?
I closed my eyes and waited for it to be over. Maybe if I stayed still, it wouldn’t hurt as much. Maybe if I became nothing, he wouldn’t see me anymore.
Seconds passed. Maybe minutes. Felt like hours.
A Ridge Riders patch stared back at me. Then two more.
I blinked—or at least I thought I did—my mind barely registering the movement in front of me. Rowan’s face appeared, and a small smile crept onto my lips. If I was going to go out like that, at least it would be Rowan’s face I’d go out staring at.
“Sades?” Strong hands gripped my upper arms, pulling me back to life. “Baby, can you hear me?” His voice cut through the chaos.
“Ro?” I shook my head, my vision spinning in and out of focus until everything came rushing back all at once. “Rowan? Is it really you? Oh god . . .” Was I bleeding? Was it over? Had I screamed? “What—” A choked sob ripped out of me, and Rowan wrapped the throw blanket from the couch around my bottom half.
