Page 24 of Rocked: The Price of Dreams

“Ready?” Kyle’s voice was barely audible. We broke apart, preparing ourselves to run. Kyle’s gaze burned into the door as he mouthed, “One. Two. Three. Go.”

We rushed forward but before Kyle grabbed the handle, the door flew open.

William’s burly Bruce Willis-like frame filled the doorway. He swayed and staggered on his feet. His eyes blazed demonic red, and he stank like a beer brewery.

I jumped in front of the guys, hoping the sight of my tiny girly frame would stop William and bring him to his senses. But being female hadn’t helped Claire when he’d hurt her. I trembled from my head down to my toes. My heart slammed against my ribs. But if I could take one blow for Kyle, one hit that wouldn’t hurt him, one strike he didn’t have to bear, I would.

Lifting my chin, I sucked in a deep breath and met the lifeless gaze in William’s bloodshot eyes. I forced myself to smile and summoned a sweet voice. “Hi, Mr. McIntyre. How was work today?”

Steam fumed out of his ears and nose. Spittle drooled from his mouth. He didn’t even glance in my direction. His gaze bored into Kyle.

William stumbled down the step, raised his hands, and charged toward his son. “You on that stupid guitar again, boy?” He back-handed Kyle across the cheek, then punched him in the jaw.

Kyle stumbled sideways. Blood spurted from his mouth. “Ow. Fuck!”

“Mr. McIntyre. No!” I screamed and pushed Kyle’s dad with all my might. But the brute didn’t move an inch. The few defensive moves I’d learned were useless against such a strong man.

“You pathetic girl. Get out of my way.” He shoved me on the shoulder, sending me flying.

I slammed against the shelves, hitting my head. Ow! Crumbling to the concrete, I jarred my wrist and grazed my hands and knees. Shit! With shaky fingers, I touched the bump on my head. Blood covered my fingertips. Oh, crap!

William lunged for Kyle, but Kyle blocked the blow. “Don’t fucking touch her.”

Kyle rushed toward me, but William grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and pinned him against the keyboard.

Hunter ran to my side and helped me to sit upright. “Gem. Oh fuck.” He swiped my hair off my brow. He shook all over. Tears brimmed in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Pain stabbed my head as I staggered to my feet. “But what are you doing? Don’t worry about me. Help Kyle.” He was my main concern. We had to get out of there.

William slurred in Kyle’s face. “You useless piece of shit. Is that what you’ve been playing?” He pointed at Kyle’s bass. He shoved Kyle backward, sending him and the keyboard tumbling to the ground. Crash.

William scooped up the bass, raised it above his head, and smashed it against the floor again and again. The neck cracked and splintered. The body shattered and split. Strings twanged and twisted. “Stop. Playing. This. Shit.”

“NO!” Kyle cried, scrambling to his feet. More blood and cuts covered his cheek. “You fucking asshole.”

As I clutched my clenched hands against my chest, my heart broke. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Not his bass! That’s cruel. Beyond cruel.

William’s breath heaved as he dropped the remains of the bass onto the floor. All Kyle’s hard work, the money he’d saved, gone. Destroyed. Rage flared in William’s eyes like he was a bull about to charge. He hissed, “What did you call me?”

Crushed, with tears dampening his cheeks, Kyle cried, “You. Asshole.”

“Arrrrgh!” William roared and charged at Kyle. His fist cut through the air like a knife and struck Kyle’s chin.

Kyle’s head lurched backward. He stumbled a few steps but regained his balance.

“Kyle?” Hunter screamed, rushing forward. “Stop. Please. Let’s get out of here.”

But Kyle held out his hand for Hunter to halt. He straightened and glared at his father. Pure hate burned in his eyes. “Feel better, Dad?”

“Don’t talk back to me, boy,” William seethed.

“What are you going to do about it if I do?” Kyle sneered, wiping blood from the corner of his lips with his fingertips.

My head spun from my blow. I had to help Kyle.

“Argh!” William’s scream reverberated throughout the garage. He lunged at Kyle, clamping his hands around Kyle’s neck and crushing his thumbs into Kyle’s throat.

Kyle grabbed his dad’s hand and yanked it down to free his windpipe. Swinging his opposite arm up and over in front of him, he broke William’s hold. Then, with all his might, he rammed his elbow into William’s face. Yes! The basic self-defense techniques I’d shown him years ago had kicked in. Shoving his father in the chest, he sent William staggering backward into the tripod. Our camcorder shattered on the ground.

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