“Watch this, squirt,” I say, flicking my wrist. The rock pings off the barrel with a hollow clank. Em’s face lights up like I just performed a magic trick, her giggles cutting through the stale air.
I’m trying to teach Em how to throw a rock just right so it will skip across the barrel’s rim. Em, small and wide-eyed, with golden curls, is more focused on keeping up with my quick movements.
“My turn! My turn!” little 5-year-old Em squeals, grabbing a handful of pebbles.
I’m about to show her how to hold them when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye.Shit. Jake and his asshole buddies are slithering out from behind Old Man Miller’s trailer. My stomach drops.
Jake, the lanky prick, struts over like he owns the place. Bobby and Tom flank him, snickering like the braindead hyenas they are.
“Well, well. If it ain’t the trailer trash sisters,” Jake sneers, his eyes darting between Em and me.
I step in front of Em, my jaw clenched so tight it hurts. “The hell you want, Jake?”
He grins, showing off his yellow teeth. “Aw, don’t be like that. We just wanted to see if the little freaks wanted to play.”
Before I can blink, he shoves me hard. I stumble back, my ass hitting the ground. Em lets out a little gasp.
“Leave us alone, you meanie!” Em shouts, her voice shaking.
Jake’s eyes narrow. “Shut your trap, brat. Before I shut it for you.”
I scramble to my feet, putting myself between Jake and Em. “Touch her, and I’ll rip your fucking balls off,” I snarl.
Jake’s three years older, and at 12, he’s a giant compared to me. But backing down? Never.
Jake’s face twists with rage. His fist comes out of nowhere, catching me in the shoulder. Pain explodes through my arm, but I bite down on my lip to keep from crying out.
Em’s trembling behind me, but she steps up, her little hand grabbing onto my shirt. “Stop it! Leave Wren alone!”
Jake laughs, a sound that makes my skin crawl. “Or what? You gonna cry to Mommy and Daddy?”
He reaches for Em, but I’m quicker this time. I shove him back hard enough to make him stumble. “I said don’t fucking touch her!”
Jake’s eyes flash with anger. He lunges forward, his open palm connecting with Em’s cheek with a sickening smack. She hits the ground, a cry tearing from her throat.
Something in me snaps. I launch myself at Jake, all rational thought gone. My fists connect with whatever I can reach—his face, his chest, his gut. I’m vaguely aware of Bobby and Tom grabbing my arms, yanking me back.
Jake’s fist slams into my jaw, stars exploding behind my eyes as I hit the ground. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.
I grunt, but my body’s already pushing off the ground. I lift my face and glare at them like I’m ready to tear them apart.
“Stay down, freaks,” Jake spits, wiping blood from his nose. He turns away, Bobby and Tom trailing after him like lost puppies.
Standing up, I spit blood onto the gravel. Em crawls over to me, her face streaked with tears and dirt.
“I’m sorry, Wren,” she hiccups, throwing her arms around my neck. “I tried to help. I really did.”
I wrap my arms around her, ignoring the throbbing in my jaw. “You did good, squirt,” I mumble. “You stood up to those assholes. Don’t ever stop doing that, you hear me?”
Em nods, burying her face in my neck. I hold her tight, my own eyes burning with unshed tears.
The sting on my face sharpens, dragging me out of the haze. Something wet swipes across my lips, and I grunt, trying to shake it off. The comforting weight of Em vanishes like smoke, leaving me cold and disoriented.
Feeling more wetness on my face. I groan. A familiar scent hits my nose first—cigarettes, musk, and… antiseptic?
My eyes crack open, and the world’s a blurry mess.
I find myself staring into a pair of intense blue eyes. D. The memories come rushing back—the Russians, the fight, the choking darkness.
