Page 149 of The Young & the Sinner

Mason

I wasin that room again. And I was alone. We were always alone. He knew he couldn’t take all of us at once, so he always isolated us before…

I was going to be sick.

The distinctive smell of hockey equipment nearly turned my stomach. The game I had loved to play so much as a child was now nothing more than a reminder of the nightmare I lived.

I didn’t want to do this anymore. I didn’t want to play anymore.

The door opening and then closing nearly sent my heart into overdrive. And then the sound of the lock clicking into place soured my stomach. I focused on breathing to keep my lunch down. That was all I could do right now.

I couldn’t run. I tried that once, and… I wasn’t fast enough. And I wasn’t strong enough to fight him off.

He placed one meaty hand on my shoulder, and I flinched.

“Shh,” he shushed quietly, gently. As if he was comforting me from something scary. But how could that be, when he was the scary thing I wanted to get away from.

“Please,” I begged, and I hated myself for it. I told myself I wouldn’t let him get to me, but the memories of the last time were still seared onto my brain. It had hurt. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Nonsense. Don’t you want to play well during tonight’s game?”

I shook my head, but nothing came out. I didn’t care about tonight’s hockey game. I didn’t care about anything but getting out of here.

I tried to move away, but he dug his hands into my shoulders, keeping me there. “You know how it is with boys your age. You have all this pent-up aggression inside of you, and we need to get rid of it to keep your focus on the game, right? I’m only doing this because you’re one of my best players, Mason.”

That was what he told the other guys.

Tears clung to my eyelashes. I shouldn’t cry. Max never cried, even when he broke his leg during one of his hockey games last year. I needed to be brave and strong, but the moment he moved one hand down my body, I didn’t want to be strong anymore.

I wanted my big brother, but he wasn’t here. He was two hours away. I was two hours away from home.

I let out a small whimper when I felt his hand at the hem of my jeans. “Go on. Undress for me. You know what to do. You don’t want to force my hand in this, do you?”

His other hand moved to my neck, squeezing a little to cut off air, but not enough to make me pass out. How I wished he would squeeze just a little tighter.

“You don’t do this, and I’ll have to send your brother those pictures we took. You don’t want that, do you? You don’t want him to see how dirty you’ve become, right?”

I clenched my hands into a tight fist, my fingernails digging into the skin, drawing blood. I closed my eyes. What would Max say if he could see me now?

I didn’t want him to be ashamed of me. I moved my hands down and undid my jeans, pulling them all the way down, until I was bare to him.

The tears I was trying so hard to hold in fell down the bridge of my nose and onto the old desk in front of me.

I closed my eyes. I was going to my happy place. A place far away from here. Far from this hell.

Please, just take me away.

Please.

* * *

“Mason,wake up. Please. It’s just a dream. Come back to me, baby. Please wake up. I’ve got you.”

The voice of my angel. She was here to take me to my happy place. And I wanted to go so bad, but his hold on me was too strong, and I hurt.

“Come back.”

Slowly, I opened my eyes to the darkened room. I wasn’t at hockey camp. I wasn’t in that room. I was in my own room, and I wasn’t twelve anymore.

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