Page 46 of Deadwood
My eyes darted around until they landed on Lander, who was inebriated as ever, laughing with a tall, dark-haired woman. He didn’t so much as glance this way, infatuated with whoever the girl was. Paxon was nowhere in sight, but for some reason, I felt a bit of relief at that. Knowing him, he’d watch and see how I handled the situation. Everyone else was so caught up in their conversations and dancing that no one noticed what was happening before them.
But I wasnotweak.
Putting all my force behind it, I brought my knee up to meet with his groin, the act hidden in the mess of my skirt. He let out a grunt, the impact enough for him to loosen his hold on me. I shoved his shoulders away, leaving him keeled over with his hands cupped between his legs.
My dress suddenly felt suffocating, and despite the cool night air, I needed somewhere I could breathe, away from the stifling bodies moving every which way. I bundled my skirts in my fists and hurried away from the crowd, weaving through people lost between dancing and drinking.
Maybe the festival was a bad idea. The citizens of the other kingdoms weren’t particularly happy with my father’s hold on trade and his hoard of supplies he refused to share, and with that, I should’ve known tonight might be a dangerous event to partake in. My guards had been here, but they were now distracted, as I’d suspected they would be. I’d have thought that to be a relief, but it clearly wasn’t. Threats loomed, even on the night where equality was supposed to be celebrated.
The festival butted up to the edge of the forest, and as I entered the tree line, an opening in the distance revealed itself. My dress snagged on various twigs and rocks, but I carried on in the hopes of the man not seeing where I’d disappeared to. He was drunk, allowing himself to act unruly simply because of the holiday.
My body was confused whether to enjoy its buzz from the dancing or to let fear seep in with the thought that the man might come looking for me. I had to hope my knee had done enough damage to keep him away.
Emerging from the trees as the sound of the party faded behind the foliage, a small pond sparkled under the rings above. The crisp scent of dew on the blades of grass was a welcome reprieve from the multitude of invading smells at the celebration.
Lightning bugs danced in the air above the water, stars glittering across the surface. I looked up to find one shoot across the sky, and while it might’ve been foolish, I whispered a wish to the stars. Perhaps they’d hear it and give me mercy just this once.
Tell me the world is not truly all this bad.
Crossing to the pond, I perched myself on my knees and trailed a finger through the still water, watching as it rippled. The water was like glass, showcasing the world above, and in the reflection, I stared at my mask. It was breathtaking, there was no doubt in that, but it wasn’t me. It was a perception, hiding who I truly was behind distracting beauty. I was wearing Amosite’s colors as if I was proud, and yet, all I felt was shame. Shame to have a father so greedy, and to live in a kingdom so rich, yet so poor.
Among the faint croaking of frogs and chirping of crickets, a twig snapped, but before I could turn, my head was thrust down, water instantly surrounding my face and flowing up my nose.
“Keep her under!” a man shouted, his voice contorted by the water around my ears. Another pair of hands grabbed my shoulders, forcing me farther into the water.
I thrashed against the hold of the two people, trying not to scream, as it would only spend what oxygen was left in my lungs. I tried to blindly reach behind me to find a weapon, a body, anything, but found nothing of the sort. My hands plunged into the water, trying to push off of the sandy shore, but it only kicked up debris, the dirt stinging my eyes. I squeezed them shut, but the sting was nothing compared to the rest. I was drowning, my lungs burning with the natural urge to breathe. If I let the water in, that would be the end.
“Bring her up,” the man who had spoken before commanded.
Hands pulled at me, and then my head was above water, and I was sucking in air. My face and hair were drenched.
“Please.” I gulped, my lungs raw from the sudden intake of oxygen. I coughed hard, my throat feeling like it was torn to shreds. “Please. I’ll do anything. Please don’t kill me.”
The man behind me chuckled. “We’ve got a beggar, boys.”
The one to my right said, “I like it when they beg.”
A hand gripped my chin hard, forcing me to face the guy to my left. He had a shaved head with black ink swirled over every inch of skin, aside from his face. “She’d look even prettier begging for me to fill her tight cunt.”
My chest heaved as nausea rolled through me, but I was too starved for air to think about vomiting. Instead, I spit at him, the glob landing right on his cheek. “Fuck you,” I seethed in between pants. I might not have the upper hand here, but that didn’t mean I had lost all my fire.
His hand released my chin and flew back, a crack splitting through the air as he slapped me. Rough fingers gripped my chin again as pain stung my skin, my mask barely taking the brunt of the hit. “You want to spit on something, bitch? I’ll give you something to soak.” His free hand moved to his pants.
I thrashed my body, but the other man wrapped his arms around my shoulders, keeping me in place. I tossed my head back, and a crunch sounded right before he yelled out in pain. His arms fell from around me, and I instantly twisted, landing flat on my stomach in the grass. The bald man grabbed my arm, but with the water slicking my skin, I slid free and scrambled to my hands and knees.
The one who had spoken commands grabbed my hair, and I screamed out in pain as he lifted me off my hands, my knees barely touching the ground now. I reached up, scratching at his arms, but he held firm.
“Lucky for you, we like a little fight.” As he spun me, I recognized that the bald man with the now bloodied nose was the one who’d danced with me.
“You fucking coward!” I spit. “Bringing your friends because you couldn’t fight a girl on your own!”
The short-haired man holding me up chuckled. “She’s feisty.”
I tried to pry his hand off my hair, but he kept his hold firm. “Let me go,” I bit out.
“I’m having far too much fun to do that,” he said, like holding a woman against her will wasamusingto him.
“You heard the girl. Let her go,” a deep voice said from behind us, interrupting the chaos like a wish whispered on the wind.
