A strong hand suddenly digs into my bicep, yanking me back hard enough to cause me to stumble into the dirt and twigs. I go to stand, brushing myself off, only to come face to face with a long barrel. It presses into my cheekbone, the cool round metal threatening to blow my face off with a pull of the trigger.
The fresh wounds on my back flare to life as I’m pulled up by my collar and shoved forward towards my friends who all have been rounded up. All of us, except Hazel.
Stay hidden, I mentally plead with her as if she can hear me.
“What do we have here, Will?”
“Looks like we found us some escapees. Where did you think you could go, hmm? Did you think we wouldn’t find you?”
We’re all quiet, starring down into the ground like the obedient children they want us to be. Knowing that one wrong answer, one wrong move could result in catastrophicconsequences. We’re surrounded by the school’s counselors and disciplinary staff. In other words? We’re fucked.
“No, sir.” Kyle answers for us all.
I notice Sarah’s not with the group. Maybe she went in to be with Hazel.
River’s shirt is ripped, and his face is splattered with mud, as if they shoved him into a puddle. They probably did.
Matty is sporting a red slash across his nose and his ears are bright red. Kyle seems mostly untouched, but irritable. I let myself assess him further, and my stomach drops. If I didn’t know any better, it would look like my brother isn’t surprised to see them here.
Did he…?
No.
He wouldn’t set this up just to throw us under the bus.
Would he?
Ice hot rage fills my veins and if there wasn’t a fucking gun pointed at me, I would punch Kyle in the goddamn face right now. He did it.
A cruel tilt of his mouth sits glued to his lips as he crouches, arms raised, and head cocked to the side. “Just like I promised. They won’t be any trouble.”
The confirmation hits me hard. Betrayal coats the air as we’re rounded up, and Kyle is allowed to stand back assessing the situation.
“Where are the others?” Pastor Charles asks.
Kyle nods his head towards the house, and I lunge for him. The wounds on my back screaming out in protest, but I ignore it.
“You son of a bitch.”
He laughs, side stepping me easily. “Careful, we share the same mother, so what does that make you?”
I’ll fucking kill him.
Swinging my fist while I let out a guttural yell, I manage to clip his cheekbone. A satisfying crunch of bone on bone reverberates while the impact stings my flesh.
“Ah, ah, ah. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The rifle is pointed straight at me, and my body stills. Anger steaming from my every pore. They’ll destroy us for disobeying their rules like this. “Try me.” Pastor Charles taunts from the other end of the gun, finger poised to shoot.
Staring up at him with all the contempt I can muster, I spit, hitting him on the shoe.
“Wrong move.” He twists the shotgun around faster than I have time to react, hitting me square in the jaw with the butt.
I crumple, vision doting with tiny white stars.
He sneers down at me. A vision of malice gift wrapped in the guise of a good Christian man. Sweat dots his too small forehead but oh how I wish it was blood. I wish the tables were turned and this pitiful excuse of a holy man were shaking on his knees before me in pure terror.
I promise right here and now that one day, I will hunt down these scumbags and make them pay for what they’ve done to us. All the torture we’ve endured. All the trauma. I’ll flay them open, one cut at a time for every scar on my back.
“There’s no one in that house, Kyle. So, you better start talking about where those two girls ran off to, or our deal is off.”
