Page 16 of Voracious

My face snaps to the side again, a sting on my other cheek.

“It took me weeks to retrace your steps. How can I ever trust you if you keep shit like that from me?”

I clench my teeth as I stare at the trees, the way the leaves blow in the light wind, the little rocks around me. I marvel at how fresh the air is, how the stars glint so brightly.

Another blow, and I taste blood from the fist he smashed into my face.

I welcome each painful smack as he cries, each agonising punch as I lie unmoving, trying to find my safe place in my mind each time he grabs my hair and slams my head into the concrete.

“I was going to wait to do this…” He holds me by the throat, reaching into his pocket with his other hand and pulling out a clear bag filled with little white pills.

My eyes widen, but I’m in no position to stop him forcing who knows how many into my mouth, covering my mouth and pinching my nose until I swallow them all – dry, catching in my throat, making me gag, even though I gulp down blood along with them.

“Give it ten, maybe fifteen, minutes, and I’ll be able to do whatever I want to you, and you’d never know.”

The mental block I fall into always keeps me grounded. I’ll think of memories that make me happy. They’ll hold me there just long enough to make me numb to the pain I’m in – and the revulsion.

But right now, I can’t find my mental block, and my mouth is filling with blood from him punching me. My hands are shaking at my sides, my body tense.

Until I can’t stay still anymore.

It takes everything in me, and I grit my teeth as I use force. My knee hikes quickly, and it smashes between his legs, hard enough to cause a rush of air and a groan to fall from his lips. “Fuck!”

I see the fist coming, but I’m not fast enough to dodge it – he drives it into my jaw, snapping my head back so it hits the concrete.

No one is coming. My head falls to the side and I’m dizzy, silently begging the SUV to appear, or Kade’s black Audi, or anyone to drive up the road and stop this as Chris presses his forehead to my temple, spittle dripping from his mouth. “Why are you making me do this?” he asks, his own tears hitting my face. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want… I don’t want to hurt you.”

Then stop, I try to say, but I can’t form words.

If I can get him off me, I can make myself sick before the drugs kick in.

Something shifts to my right, and Chris is thrown off me as the bodyguard assigned to me tackles him. I lie completely still, not sure if the pain wracking my body is from how tense I am or from Chris hitting me. I feel tired. Exhausted. But if I close my eyes, I won’t know if the bodyguard will save me.

The sky is so dark. So peaceful compared to what’s going on beside me.

I somehow manage to turn my head.

Him and Chris are fighting. Punching each other. There are gunshots that have birds fluttering from the trees – yet I don’t flinch from the bangs echoing in the night sky.

I hear the gun dropping, being tossed aside as Chris kicks the man in the chest, knocking him on his back right beside me. My stepbrother drives his fist into the man’s face with so much force, his nose bursts open, gushing with blood, and as the blows continue to rain down, it sounds like he’s choking. His jaw is distorted, and some of the blood hits my face, but I don’t move.

He doesn’t fight back. He’s still – like me.

Can he see how peaceful the night sky is?

Chris is covered in blood, wiping his hand down his face. “Shit.” Then he looks at me, his eyes wild. Like something chimes in his head, he glances between the two of us then leans down to me. “I’ll call an ambulance to save him, but I have conditions.”

My lips barely move as I mouth,What?

“You stay away from Kade Mitchell. You apologise to me for being a brat. And when I tell you to kiss me, you kiss me.”

Tears slide down my cheek, but I don’t speak.

“He’s one of the guys ordered to keep an eye on you, right? You think I didn’t fucking know? I know everything about you, Stacey.Everything.” He lifts a brick. “If you don’t agree to my conditions, I’ll kill him right fucking now.”

More tears slide down my cheeks as I stare at the man struggling to breathe, soaking the concrete with blood. He probably has a family at home waiting on him. A wife and children. Brothers and sisters. Mother and father.

People who will miss him.

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