The punch comes out of nowhere, his knuckles slam into my temple, slinging my head back. In that second, it feels like the world spins one complete revolution around the sun in fast-forward, making it impossible to focus on anything. My vision tunnels as stars fade in and out in my peripheral. The back of my head hits the window, and I think I hear it crack.
“Friends?” He growls.
He swings at me again, his fist slams into my nose and myhead cracks into the glass again, and I immediately feel warmth running down my face and the back of my throat as I cup my hands over my face. “Please, stop.” My voice is shaking and doesn’t sound right.
The force of the punch and the world spinning around me, makes me lose my footing on the slick grass and mud and I fall into the floorboard of the truck. Slinging my hand out to grab anything that might help me stay upright, I get a grasp on the door handle, but my hand is slippery from blood and I feel my fingernail tear as my hand slides out of it.
Somewhere far away, behind the sound of blood rushing through my ears, I hear him next to my head. “You just want to be friends? Too fucking bad.”
He grabs my neck and pushes me back across the old, wide floorboard, further into the truck. My head is spinning, and I think I might vomit. I feel hands on my legs and a voice in my head is screaming at me to stop him, but I can’t get my arms to do what I want them to.
“Stop.” It comes out as almost a whisper and I fling my arm in the air hoping to stop what I know is about to happen.
Pain rips through my pelvis. Oh God, it’s happening. But I only feel like I’m partially in my body. I close my eyes and wish for it to be over with, letting my mind drift somewhere else while swallowing the blood that is running down the back of my throat.
A familiar voice pulls me out of the void that I’ve let my mind slip into, a voice of safety, and suddenly I’m alone in the truck. I try to push myself up, but I turn to the side and vomit in Mason’s floorboard. He’s going to be so mad at me.
There is more yelling, and I hear other voices before Mason’s voice is loud in my ears. “Marley! Marley!” Panic is in his voice, and I can see his face close to mine, but he’s blurry.
“Mason?”
“Fuck! I need to get her to the hospital.” He takes his jacketoff and wraps it around me as he pulls me out of the floorboard and lifts me to the seat.
More yelling and I’m only a little embarrassed that others are seeing me like this. I hurt too much to care. There are so many voices coming from all around.
“Call the cops.”
“Oh my god, is he dead?”
“Is she okay?”
“An ambulance is on the way, Mason, you should wait.”
“Mason, let me take her. You need to stay and talk to the cops.”
“I’m taking care of my fucking sister. Fuck him and fuck the cops!”
“Where are my keys?”
Finally, he gets in the driver’s seat and turns to me. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“I’m sorry.” I roll my head along the back of the bench seat in his direction. My head feels too heavy to lift.
He turns to me and cups my face between his hands, wincing as he looks at my quickly swelling face. “What are you sorry for, Mar?”
“I threw up in your floorboard.”
“Don’t worry about that, Squeak. Here, lay down.” He helps me lie in the seat, my head next to his leg. His use of the nickname he and Gray gave me because of the sound I make when I get the hiccups is a minor comfort, as I try to block everything that just happened.
He starts the truck, and I watch his hand cup the eight ball on top of the gearshift in front of my face before darkness takes me.
CHAPTER TWO
SIX MONTHS LATER
Harlow Springs Ranch
Near Claremore, Ok
