When Tyler showed up at my locker that Monday, he looked so hopeful. For a moment, my hope grew too. But then Holly showed up and Tyler believed her lies. I allowed him to think I had slept around, because it was easier than watching him leave me.
I thought I’d never see Tyler after he moved away to attend some fancy college. He should be off earning his white-collar salary and settling down with the girl who would someday give him two-point-three kids. Only there he was a couple of weeks ago, riding his mountain bike through the woods past my mom’s squatter’s cabin, while I sat on the porch, my mouth open so wide I’m surprised a fly didn’t take up residence.
I convinced myself I was holding on to something by leaving Tyler first, but I was wrong. I simply lost one more person I cared about.
A branch snaps in front of me. A tall, wide man in a denim jacket steps out from behind one of the trees, startling me.
Where the hell did this guy come from? He looks like he walked in off the street.
Fear lances through me, my heart racing. I’m mixed up with shady people right now. Maybe I shouldn’t be here either.
I speed-walk in the opposite direction toward my truck, looking over my shoulder every few seconds. The man watches me wordlessly, but he doesn’t follow.
I’m outta here. I’ll return later. Or I’ll make my mom come to me if she needs something so desperately.
Another man rises from behind the thicket in front of me. My footsteps falter, skidding in the dirt. Was he crouched? Waiting?
I sprint in a wide loop toward the road I came in on, praying my sense of direction is better on the way back. Terror courses through me, making my mouth dry, my mind racing as fast as my feet. I have no weapons. There’s no one out here besides me and these men. How could I be so stupid? I should have been more careful.
I’m dodging trees, darting in front of thick trunks to hide my retreat. No shouts for me to stop come from behind. The only noise louder than my heartbeat is my feet crunching through the brush.
My legs burn as I stumble over logs, scraping my jacket on prickly bushes. The sun has set and it’s getting darker. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe they’re not here for me?—
Branches snap behind me and an enormous weight slams into my back, knocking me off my feet. My hands and elbows scrape across the brittle forest floor as I’m pinned to the ground, whatever breath I have left rushing from my lungs.
I gasp for air, the scent of pine needles and dirt filling my nose. I buck to free myself, fear gripping me so tight no sound escapes, not even to scream.
I am unceremoniously rolled over, the guy in the denim jacket who appeared from behind the tree leering down.
I thrust my hand up to shove his face away, scratch, claw—whatever—to get him the hell off me. He catches my wrist and binds both my arms to my sides.
“Let me go.” My voice comes out high and panicked. I hate showing fear. But sometimes the emotion chokes, oozes from pores, until the body rattles with the force of it.
The second man slows to a stop a couple of feet away. “You owe our boss money, little girl.”
The guy pinning me scoots further up my body, his hip digging into my thigh. I groan at the sharp pain. I have the cash I brought for my mom, but it’s a drop in the bucket compared to what I owe. He shifts and grips both my wrists with one hand, raising them above my head—a biting hold I can’t break, no matter how hard I pull.
He runs a callused finger over my cheekbone, down my throat, snagging my top and lowering it to the edge of my bra. “She’s not like the others. Pretty,” he says absently, his dark, heavy-lidded gaze moving to my face.
My throat dries to a sticky consistency, sweat beading between my shoulder blades. Would he hurt me—like that—because I’m late on my payments to his boss?
“I think we need to teach her a lesson in responsibility,” the one above says, his features shadowed.
“Help me! Someone help me!” I scream, squirming to get free, my voice going hoarse from the strain.
The guy in the denim jacket has a biggish nose, black eyes. He’s all bulbous features, an image straight from the funhouse wavy mirror. “We could teach her a thing or two.” He cups my breast. “What’s your name, beautiful?”
My heart is racing, I can’t breathe, can’t move. “Get off me, get off me…” I screech.
Denim Jacket leans down. “Mira, is it?”
I wiggle my arm loose and grab the first object I find, a rock no bigger than my hand. I slam it into his head, but my angle is off and I barely catch the back of his skull.
He stabs my arm with his elbow, digging in the muscle until I drop the rock. I cry out in pain. “Bitch—” His meaty hand cracks across my face.
Stars flitter in my vision. I moan, rolling my head to the side.
Hot fetid breaths steam my ear. “Got a message for you, Mira. Pay. Up.” He shoves my chin, the hulking burden suddenly lifting.
