Page 127 of The Space Between
He’ll have to kill me.
He will never violate me like that again.
He takes another step toward me, removing his fingers in the process. I take a step back into the living room without meaning to.
He follows. “You really thought you could just run off, shack up with that river rat in this piece of shit town, and pretend none of it ever happened? LikeIdidn’t happen?” His voice rises. “You are mine, Blakelyn.” He still has my hair, and he yanks it again as he unsnaps his jeans.
“No,” I scream, louder this time. “I’m not yours and you will never touch me again.” I scratch at his face, fighting back, but he’s bigger, stronger, and tall enough to evade me.
Laughing, he frees his cock. I kick at him, catching his shin. He grunts, but only laughs harder.
I see it, the flicker of darkness in his eyes. “You think he’s gonna save you?” he sneers. “You think he gives a shit about you,Blakelyn? He fucked you. I mean, I’ll give him that. I don’t blame him. I can’t even be mad he got his rocks off with you. But you—you…”
I dig my nails into his hands so deep I draw blood. Breaking through the skin, I don’t stop, I go deeper and deeper, not letting up. He flinches and releases my hair like I prayed he would do. I swipe at his face and slam my knee up at the same time. I connect and he screams as he doubles over, but he lunges for me. “You bitch!”
I manage to evade him and bring my elbow down as hard as I can in the middle of his back. Bellowing in pain, he falls over but manages to catch himself on the table. “I don’t need him to save me,” I yell. “I already saved myself. The night I left you.” I kick him in the chin as hard as I can. His head snaps back and blood pours from the side of his mouth.
Rage fills his face as he says, “You fucking bitch. I’m going to kill you.”
I look at the counter, at my phone sitting near my grocery list. He sees where I’m looking andlunges. Not at me but at the phone.
He manages to grab it and slams it against the counter, then, he drops it to the floor and crushes it with the heel of his boot. It shatters and my heart plummets. “You’re not calling him,” he snarls as blood runs down his face from my scratches and his busted mouth.
Screaming again, I try to run for the door, ignoring the pain in my hip.
He grabs my arm. Hard. His fingers dig into my skin, and I shove him, but he doesn’t let go. He lashes out and the back of his hand connects with my jaw. I see stars. But I still fight back. He’s not expecting it. I’ve never fought back before, but I do. I hit, bite, shove, kick, and scratch with everything in me.He stumbles as he tries to evade my rage, pure hatred flashing across his face.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he growls, advancing again.
He expects me to run. I don’t. Planting my feet, I grab a knife from the block on the counter, wrap my fist around it and meet his eyes. “I’m not afraid of you anymore, Tyler.”
He grabs my wrist and twists, trying to get me to drop the knife. My wrist screams, but I don’t. I can’t— feet on gravel, and then, on the wooden steps sounds behind me. A roar that chills my blood fills the room.
Gruene.
I whirl. He’s out of breath. His eyes are wild as they glance over me once. He sees Tyler’s bloody hand on me, the knife I’m holding, and Tyler’s open pants with his cock out. I breathe, “Gruene…”
Tyler releases my hand, recognizing the threat. But he can’t even turn around before Gruene’s hand is around his throat and he’s being slammed straight into the nearest wall.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” Gruene snarls before he starts hitting him. His fists are furious. He’s relentless. His fists slam into Tyler’s face, his ribs, his stomach, and then, his face again. He won’t stop. Tyler is wheezing and limp and Gruene just keeps kitting him.
He’s going to kill him.
The knife I was holding clatters to the floor. I scream, “Gruene… stop… you’re going to kill him… Stop… please… I don’t want you to go to jail.”
Tyler weakly tries to fight back, throwing a punch that barely grazes Gruene’s jaw, but all he can really do is try, unsuccessfully, to ward off Gruene’s rage. He’s fists are full of fury. He doesn’t even hear me as I scream and cry.
The room fills with grunts and broken furniture.
“Gruene!” I cry, running forward. “Stop! Please stop. I don’t want you to kill him. Please stop.” I’m screaming at the top of my lungs and begging him… but he’s past stopping.
He’ssnapped.
He throws Tyler clean out of the broken front door and into the dirt. Tyler stays there, gasping for air. He doesn’t even try to stand. He’s wheezing, bleeding from his forehead, his eyebrow, his nose, and his mouth. His eyes are swollen shut. His nose is at a weird angle. He’s covered in blood, and I don’t know which is his and which is from Gruene’s split knuckles.
Gruene stands over Tyler in the dirt, blood dripping from his clenched fists creating puddles. He isn’t just angry—he’sdangerous.“If you ever come near her again,” Gruene spits out, “If you so much as think about her from a thousand miles away, I will fucking bury you where no one will find you.”
Reece races up, taking in the scene. He’s out of breath and on the phone. “Yeah, you should hurry. And I think you probably need an ambulance… no, not Gruene. It’s the other guy. Blakelyn is… hurt… yeah…”
