I didn’t know who he was except that he was a senior. He had sandy-blond hair and a big, crooked nose as if he’d had it broken a few times. Wide features contained a stern, hard look in his eyes as if whatever cries I made would do nothing to change that unsympathetic gaze.
He raised my dress above my thigh and I freaked, screaming and kicking and crying. He pressed his hand over my mouth and then used his weight on top of me to keep me from squirming away. The cold edge of the blade pricked my throat and I shrunk away tilting my head to the side, kicking my feet but unable to move anything else.
“Stay still, damn it. I don’t want to hurt you—not much, anyway.” He ran the blade down my skin until it rested in the hollow of my throat. “Not allowed to. I could get into trouble.” I whimpered. He pressed the tip of the knife into my flesh and I tried to move away. He scowled and I stopped. “You know what happens if you don’t behave?”
No, I didn’t. I had no idea what this guy wanted from me, but I suspected and it made my blood run cold.
He laughed then clucked his tongue as he sat up, straddling me. I went to move and he sliced the knife across my arm. I screamed and he shut me up with a rag from the ground beside the lawnmower.
He slowly undid the buckle on his belt, and I started crying and sobbing beneath the oil soaked rag. He pulled the belt from the loops of his jeans.
I swallowed the bile, knowing if I threw up I’d choke.
“Maybe next time you won’t try to run.” He got off me, yanked me up so hard my neck cracked, and then I was on my knees with my back to him. He pulled my dress over my head and threw it aside, then pulled my arms behind my back and wrapped the belt around my wrists so tightly I lost feeling in my fingers within seconds.
“That’s a good girl. Relax and it won’t hurt.”
He ran his hand down my back, gentle and soft like he was caressing my skin. “A blank canvas. I watched you. So perfect and sweet, quiet. And then … ” He sighed. “And then the perfect opportunity came, and I was given the chance to fix you.” His hand on my back became rough.
Then I felt the sharp prick of the knife on my spine. I arched and tried to move away, but he shoved me hard in the back with the heel of his hand and I fell forward so my cheek was pressed into the wood floor.
“Now, don’t move, princess.”
Then the cutting began.
I sobbed quietly the entire time. It was as if he was drawing on me with his knife. He hummed as he did it, a joyful tune he repeated over and over again. It didn’t feel deep, as if he wanted to mark me, but not scar me.
Suddenly, it all changed and Deck was there. So was Connor. They were fighting him, trying to get to me. I was screaming and crying, but I couldn’t get free.
I couldn’t get free.
I couldn’t get away.
“Deck!” I flailed, kicked and sobbed.
“Hold her.”
Hands held my wrists. No. No, it was the belt. The belt was being tied around my wrists.
I couldn’t distinguish what was real. “Let me go. Let me go!” I yelled as loud as I could.
Everything meshed together. The voices. Images.
“Damn it, sedate her.”
I screamed again and again as the images roared through my head.
He was running after Deck, knife in his hand, his eyes laughing. Deck was just standing there looking at me. He was shaking his head—disappointed. He was disappointed with me.
Why wasn’t he looking at the boy who was going to kill him?
“Deck. Deck.”
Heaviness gripped me and I was running in slow motion toward them. I wasn’t going to get there in time. No, don’t take him from me, too. “Please. No.”
The knife came toward Deck’s chest in slow motion. I sobbed hysterically, but Deck just stood there watching as the knife kept coming.
“Nooo.” I couldn’t lose him.
“Sir. Sir. You can’t go in there—”
“Out of my way before I throw you out of my way.”
Deck?
I moaned.
What was happening? I couldn’t see him anymore. It was dark and … I struggled again. Tossing and turning trying to find him.
“Shh. Calm down.” I didn’t recognize the voice. I heard the shuffling of feet. Who was here? “What the hell is going on out there?”
“You need to move. Now.”
My eyes flew open when I heard his voice. Deck. He was alive. Robbie didn’t kill him. I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t. I pulled upward again, my brain foggy, limbs weak and … I looked down and saw the straps around my wrists.
I jerked violently on them as the nightmare of the belt became real.
“Just relax. We’ll let you go once you settle down.”
I choked on the sob screeching from my throat as the doctor’s words hit me. “No,” I cried and yanked on the straps, but everything was so heavy and slow. I couldn’t focus as the room blurred and the man standing beside the bed became what my mind was fighting to make him.
I heard something hard hit a wall outside the door and then the crash of what sounded like a metal tray with dishes hitting the floor.
A woman’s voice, “Oh, my God. Please. Don’t shoot me.”
“Then move out of my fuckin’ way.” The door burst open and the glare of the hallway lights blinded me for a few seconds. All I saw was a large shadow standing in the doorway.
I let the sobs take hold and tears streamed down my face.