Page 31 of No Strings
“Sorry, I’m going to have to wear a bell.” He laughs at his own Dad joke. I wonder if normal, non-alcoholic fathers are all like that?
I let him know that Molly is asleep, and make my way out. Crossing the patch of grass from the homestead to Rhys’s place, I’ve walked this stretch plenty of times. In the dark, and in the light of day, and I have never got a hinky feeling. I try telling myself I’m still recovering from the stories the boys were telling me about Aboriginal folklore the other night around the fire. Even as I try rationalising it, the hairs on the back of my neck stand. And I feel like I’ve been catapulted back to two weeks ago, back to looking over my shoulder.
I start to walk faster, but I hear a whistle that has me stopping in my tracks. What was that creature, the mischievous one? A Mimi? That’s it. It’s just a Mimi. But then there’s a stick snapping and I know I’m not alone.
I get back to my quick pace. I need to get to light, and even better, my bed. As soon as I’m about to round the corner to get to the veranda of Rhys’s, a hand closes over my mouth. Everything in me freezes. From my mind to the blood in my veins.
He found me.
I’m dead.
“Don’t stress, poppet, it’s just me.” Trent the fucker, who has obviously watched Pirates of the Caribbean one to many times.
He releases me but I don’t move. My fight or flight has kicked in and it’s choosing utter panic. Great. Stepping around me so he’s facing me, he continues to step forward causing me to step backward until I’m pressed against the wall of the house.
Esky starts to bark at him as my heart rate spikes.
Trent places his hands either side of my head.
I feel trapped.
Please don’t let this be happening. My breathing starts to come in short fast bursts.
“You’re very pretty. Blonds are definitely my type.”
“I’m not a natural blonde.” I don’t know why that is what I say.
“So, the curtains don’t match the drapes? Noted.” He trails his nose up my neck. “You smell great.”
Bile rises in my throat. The thought of spitting it on him crosses my mind, but his possible retaliation stops me. So, I try to swallow it. Just like the scream that is trapped in my throat.
He wraps me in his arms, and he grinds his erection against my thigh. He hasn’t actually kissed me. Which is an odd thing to focus on, but I guess your mind focuses on trivial things.
“This fucking puppy.”
I didn’t notice Esky was still barking and growling at him. If my dingo can fight for me, I can fight for me.
I knee him in the balls. He yells out in pain but instead of freeing me like I thought he would, one of his hands clasps around my throat, once again pushing me into the wall of the house, while his other one cups his balls. He bends over taking a few deep breaths, then like a man possessed he slowly turns his head to the side to look at me. “You fucking cunt, you’re going to pay for that.” He starts to squeeze my throat while standing and proceeding to undo his pants.
I guess I was right.
I’m dead.
Just not at the hands of the man I thought.
Chapter Nine
RHYS
Fucking Esky is barking at something; we ignore it though, because we’re trying to plan the muster when we hear a shout.
Immediately we’re all up on our feet. Looking around for the source. Then I hear a yelp, as if Esky has been hurt.
“Davis, that way.” I point to the left. “Beau, that way.” I point to the right. “Hayden, that way.” I point behind me. “Nathan, get Brent, and Jarrod, find fucking Trent. He left not long after Morgan.”
A bad feeling settles over me when that realisation sets in.
I take off straight ahead.
