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Slumping into a wooden bench seat, I drop my face into my palms as my tears bypass through my fingers, running down my cheeks and staining my torn blue jeans. I understand Quinn needs to be on his own because the only time he was willing to let me in, I gave him that damn look, the one I despise more than anything.
The urge to run and purge this shitstorm overtakes me, so I get up, sniffling back my tears, and begin running. I run in the other direction, away from my betrayal of Quinn’s trust, and I just keep on running until my lungs burn and my entire body trembles in fatigue. But I can’t stop because when I do, reality will catch up to me and remind me of the pained look in Quinn’s beautiful eyes.
It’s getting dark by the time my body gives out, and I collapse against a wall in a dirty alleyway.
My breath is labored, and the heavy feeling in my chest worsens with every step I take. The marathon run to God knows where has not made me feel better. It’s only given me a headache and made me crave a road map.
How will Quinn ever trust me again? His mother, like mine, is obviously a touchy subject for him. And I just hope some groveling and an explanation will make things right between us.
“Idiot,” I mumble to myself under my breath.
As a few drops of rain splash against my cheeks, I realize I need to get back. I’m not sure how long I’ve been gone or where the hell I am.Pushing off the wall, I walk deep in thought and stupidly drop my guard, not taking in my surroundings.
And that irresponsible action costs me dearly.
Suddenly, the hair at the back of my neck prickles in terror, and I hastily reach down, grabbing the knife in my boot. But I don’t get there in time.
Someone pushes between my shoulder blades, and I trip, losing my footing, and fall face-first into a stagnate puddle of liquid. The disgusting water, which I’m pretty sure consists of piss and garbage juice, stings my eyes, and I quickly spit out the liquid before I gag.
My hands have broken my fall, which is good, as it gives me the leverage to push off my wrists to find my feet. But the wind gets knocked out of my sails as my attacker forces a knee into my lower back, roughly pinning me to the ground, which results in my face being inches away from the dirty puddle.
My heartbeat begins a steady incline, throbbing in time with my racing pulse, and as my fight-or-flight instinct takes over, I know I need to get the fuck off this ground. I refuse to allow this to happen to me again.
I resist, but my assailant has the upper hand as he deepens the pressure of his knee on my lower back, winding me.
Attempting to turn my cheek to get a look at the motherfucker proves futile as he roughly clasps his fingers around the back of my neck, shoving my face into the filthy ground.
He presses my chin into the ground, but I strain against his hold, pushing back with my neck muscles, which feel like they are about to snap under the brutal force.
But sadly, that’s all I can do, as the weight of my attacker immobilizes my body. But I’ll be damned if I don’t put up a fight. As I desperately attempt to buck him off, he thrusts his other hand onto my shoulder blade so hard that my collarbone pops as it smashes into the concrete.
With no other choice, I scream, “What do you want? Motherfucker, get the fuck off me!” It comes out muffled because my face is now submerged in liquid.
But I don’t stop struggling. I need my face out of this water before I drown. Finally, his hold slackens slightly, and I’m able to turn my head to the right. I take a big breath, and a blood-curdling scream leaves me because I know I’m not getting out of this without help.
However, the louder I scream, the harder he pushes into me, and when I wriggle with all my might, trying to buck him off yet again, he fists my long, knotted hair into his palm, smashing my face once, then twice, into the concrete.
I see stars, but pure adrenaline has taken over, and I know it’s now or never as fresh blood rains heavily into my eyes from an open gash in my hairline.The hot, thick blood seeps into my mouth, and I spit it out because with everything that’s left, I let out one last scream. But it’s a half whimper, half moan as I slowly lose consciousness.
“Motherfuck…” I moan before my head connects with the pavement for the third and final time.
Everything fades to black.
Everything aches.
My body.
My brain.
My heart.
My body feels battered, my brain feels fried, and my heart, well, my heart feels broken.
I don’t know where I am or how I got here. But I tell my brain to snap the hell out of it and catch the fuck up.
I need to think.
Thinking back to my last memory, I yelp, which comes out muffled, as a tight gag prevents me from screaming.
