“I want to be left alone,” I said.
Another text from Dad bathed the inside of my bag in a blue glow for a moment and I remembered my phone. I pulled it out of my purse and tried to unlock it when the truck’s engine suddenly died and Parker jumped out. His huge hand clamped over my wrist. I looked up at him, wide-eyed, and slowly dropped my phone back into my purse.
“That’s better,” he said, letting go of my wrist. “Like hell you wanna be left alone. If you wanted to be left alone you’d’ve stayed a boy.”
“What are you doing?” I said.
“Walkin’ with you,” he said, easily keeping pace with me, his shoulders hunched forward and his hands in his pockets. I smelled something sour and sterile wafting off him and realized he had been drinking. “It’s dangerous out here. Don’t worry though, I’ll keep you safe.”
“Okay,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself and looking off into the darkness between the trees. His shadow stretched out past mine. I remembered Mom telling me how frightening men were, all men really, how helpless it often felt to be a woman among men, and for the first time I understood what she meant.
I reached into my bag again, my fingers curled around my phone, when the punch came. Something thudded against the side of my skull as the dark around me turned red and all the night sounds of the road were replaced by a ringing in my right ear. I stumbled like a drunk away from the road until I scraped my bare shoulder against a tree and clung to it. Parker was on me before I could fully grasp what had happened, his face inches from mine and his forearm braced against my throat, cutting off just enough of my oxygen that I started to gag and see stars.
“No,” Parker hissed, “that’s not how this works. You made me look like a dickhead for months, and now you don’t got Grant to look out for you. You don’t get to play hard to get anymore.” I could barely hear him, and his features were blacked out by the bright headlights of his truck. I tried to speak but all that came out was a gagging sound. “You coulda had this the easy way. Now, let’s see how close you are to the real thing.”
The sensation of his huge hands pulling up the hem of my dress brought me just far enough from my stupor to act. I let out a screaming croak and clawed at his face as I drove my knee into his crotch as hard as I could. He coughed loudly and went limp. I was still woozy and disoriented, but some animal part of my brain forced me to act. I lurched into the darkness and the underbrush, keeping one eye over my shoulder as I ran into the woods.
Parker stomped after me, snapping branches and growling my name. The dots in my eyes and the ringing in my ears made it impossible to figure out how near or far he was, but after a few minutes I heard the crunch of gravel again and the sweep of a new set of headlights followed by the sound of slamming car doors and female voices ahead.
I slowly, carefully, started creeping my way toward the road. I was about halfway there when my busted ankle slipped out from under me. I reached out to grab another branch for support, only to have it snap loudly as I cried out and fell to the wet ground.
“Found you!” Parker yelled. I tried to stand but he was bursting through the darkness in seconds, pouncing on me and pushing me down into the mud with a horrible, irresistible strength. I heard something rip as the left strap of my dress fell loose. I kicked and slapped at him but my feet couldn’t get to him and he quickly pinned my wrists down by my head. He had just kicked my knees apart when I heard a metallic click from behind him.
“I knew you were a creep,” a girl’s voice said. A beam of light landed on us, revealing Chloe’s silhouette holding a rifle pointed at Parker’s back.
Parker slowly stood. I scrambled backward until my head hit a tree trunk and pulled my knees to myself, gasping. Chloe led Parker away, leaving me in darkness again until a small hand grasped mine and pulled me up.
“Come on,” Anna said, her voice hushed.
We made it to the road, where I saw Parker standing with his hands pressed to his truck, his face red as tendons jumped in his jaw. Chloe stood vigilant behind him, her hunting rifle still raised, a look of absolute, dispassionate boredom on her face.
“We’ve got her,” I heard Layla say, sounding calm but with an undercurrent of panic. “I’ll call you back.” I turned and saw her putting her phone away as she jogged over to us. She pulled me into a hug and I winced at a burning pain in my shoulder and ribs. “We were so worried!”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Grant texted us,” Layla said, leaning in to examine my face and making a pained expression.