Page 82 of Rival
“Mason,” I whisper. “It’s important.”
Spinning us around, he pins me to the wall of the barn and braces his hands on either side of my head. Hovering his lips over mine, he breathes out, “Bet I could convince ya, girl.”
“I’m pregnant.” It just bursts out of me, and I inhale sharply when he drops his arms, standing straight in shock. Needing to get the rest of it out, I just let all of it tumble out. “And I don’t know if it’s your baby, but honestly, it probably is. I had sex shortly before you and I did. Then, after you left, I was with someone else. That’s what I had texted about when I told you I needed to talk to you. But then this happened and I—”
I wish it was Mason interrupting me, but he seems incapable of voicing anything at the moment. His eyes are wide, and helooks a bit green, a sheen of sweat already beading on his forehead.
“Whore!”
A pained sound escapes through my closed mouth when I hear my father, but I can’t drag my eyes from Mason’s ashen face. I try to gain his attention. “Mason, please… Will you say something?”
“You’ve been fuckin’ the whole goddamn town, huh? No better than that slut of a mother you got! Sneakin’ around behind my back, workin’ for this piece of shit!”
My father is storming toward us, but I remain unmoved, pleading with Mason to say something,anything, but he is like a statue. Disappointment fills me and I can’t even bring myself to care when my father’s fingers dig into my upper arm, yanking me away from him.
I can’t drag my eyes from Mason as I’m pulled toward the trees, but he keeps his back to me, still frozen in the spot where I apparently delivered a blow he wasn’t prepared for.
Disappointment and guilt,more guilt, settle deep and I eventually lose all hope that someone will give me an ounce of compassion. My father continues to berate me, but I haven’t been listening until he spits out, “—fuckin’ knocked up, too? Jesus Christ! What the fuck did I do in my life to be forced into this sort of sufferin’?”
Throwing me forward, I land on my knees next to the back door of the house and peer up at it, praying he doesn’t force me to go inside.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ end you, you little slut! There ain’t no way I’m takin’ on another—”
My shoulders slump in defeat when I hear Griffin. Of all the people to hear right now, ithasto be him.
“The hell is goin’ on here?” He sounds worried, but more confused than anything.
My father’s hand shoves me forward and I topple to my side.
“Jesus Christ, Clay! What the fuck are you doin’?” Griffin shouts, running over to my side in an attempt to help me up.
“This whore is fuckin’ pregnant with God knowswhosebaby! Been spreadin’ her legs all over fuckin’ town like a fuckin’ Mary Magdalene.”
I hear Griffin’s breath whoosh out in surprise, but he helps me get to my feet, then pushes me behind him. With his hands up, he wards off my father to try to calm him.
“Look man. I’m sure if you just take a minute to calm the fuck down, ya’ll can sit and have a conversation. No need to be insultin’ anyone.” He glances over his shoulder at me and asks, “You alright, darlin’?”
Hiccupping a sob, I shake my head roughly. “No!” Then, to my father, for the first time ever, I argue back. “I’m n-not a whore! Maybe I made some mistakes, but y-you have no right—”
Surging forward, he screams at me over Griffin’s shoulder, his face practically purple with how furious he is. “I gotevery fuckin’ right!Fuckin’ the goddamn neighbor? That piece of trash only stuck his dick in you to piss me off! How stupid can you be, girl?”
I wince when he calls me girl, hating that I’ve grown to like it when Mason uses the term. But he’s right. I’ve been so,sostupid. I want to ask Griffin what he’s thinking, but he’s currently shoving my father backwards, both of his hands slamming against his chest.
“Darlin’, run upstairs and get your shit. You’re not stayin’ here. Not while this ass is raging like a motherfuckin’ bull.” Another cry escapes, and he gives me a serious look that says he’s not messing around. I can’t tell if he’s angry with me, but he doesn’t seem thrilled to be pushed into the middle of a fight between my father and me. “Go!” he snaps, and I spin around and rush into the house.
The last thing I hear is him saying, “You keep your ass outside until I get her out of here. I’m gonna go move some shit around in my truck to make room. Don’t fuckin’ move, Clay, or I’ll hand you your ass.”
My father grumbles at him, but I sprint toward my room, slamming the door behind me. My eyes fly around my space as I question what I should grab. Yanking my dresser open, I just pick up everything I can and drop it in the center of my bed. My eyes fall on my book, and I know I have to take it with me.
Before I have a chance to round the foot of my bed, my door slams open, the hinge screaming loudly as it bounces off the wall, then my father’s boot kicks it shut.
Within a heartbeat, he’s got my hair in his fist, and slamming me face first into the wall. I drop to my knees, one arm cradling my stomach and a hand reaching up to stop the blood flowing from my nose.
Another second before his foot collides with the side of my thigh, and I fall to my side. Something rises up inside of me and I roll to my back and kick out my feet, connecting with the soft fat of his belly, finding joy in theoomphthat expels from his parted lips.
I attempt to scramble away in the moment he’s rendered frozen, shocked I actually struck back before he’s falling on top of me, and I’m flattened to the ground.
Fists fly against my spine, and every hit is like a sledgehammer as he curses and screams, telling me how I’m born from the devil, and he should have killed me years ago.
