“Fuck!” he groans. “You bitch.” He stumbles, buying me time.
My hands tremble as I pick up the key, making it impossible to unlock this door.
Dammit.
A burning pain rips through my scalp as Mark hauls me backward, gripping a fist full of my hair. I trip, falling the two steps, landing flat on my back after skidding an ich or two. Agony shoots up, passing through my neck straight to my head. Stars cloud my vision.
He towers over me. “That wasn’t very nice now, was it?”
A hard pull throws me from the driveway, my back hitting the duplex.
“I’ll teach you a fucking lesson.”
I’m still disoriented from the fall. Pain and dizziness dance in my eyes.
He spins me around, my cheek digging into the house. He’s strong—too strong for me. “Maybe I’ll rough you up a bit.” His slimy hands run up the hem of my dress and nausea slams into me, swirling up like poison.
I buck my body back, thrashing, twisting, fighting like hell to get out of his hold. “Get off of me you sick bastard!” I yell through the pain.
“This will teach you to mind your goddamn business,” he snarls, dripping venom, and my body deflates.
No. Fight. Fucking fight, Sora.
I throw my head back, connecting it with his nose. The crunch clearly confirms the break.
Mark lets out a deep scream, holding a hand to his face.
This is it.
I make a run for it, but he grabs my ankle, sending me flying into the dirt, tiny, pebbled rocks pressing into my palms.
I roll my body so I’m facing the sky, but he straddles over me, both of his thighs on either side. He punches the ground beside my face, and I wince every time his fist lands.
This man is insane.
I cover my face with my forearm just in case he decides to use it as his punching bag next. A scream escapes me, but he cups my mouth, his hand smelling like left over liquor.
A fearful tear runs down my cheek. This is not how I’m going to be defeated. Not after everything. I'll be damned. But what can I do?
Mark continues to punch the ground in a crazy rage as if he’s pretending it’s me. The insult to the ground beside me, is twistingly close.
But his body, once barricading mine, is gone. Just like that. No more raging fits. No more heavy weight locking me into place.
It takes a moment for me to regain my composure, and when I lift myself onto my hands, I see Mark being imprisoned by Logan. The way his biceps are protruding in strength clearly shows the deadly lock he has on Mark’s throat.
He’ll kill him.
Mark claws at Logan’s forearm, trying to break free, but it’s no use. Logan isn’t letting go unless you sever off his arm.
Mark turns an interesting shade of blue, but before he loses consciousness, Logan drops my attacker to the ground. He only lets him lay there for a split second, before hauling him back up with his shirt, then landing a blow to his jaw.
My knees dig into the flower bed as I sit there, mouth open, like an out-of-body experience.
Blood is already spewing from Mark's face, and I’d like to believe I helped with that. But the way Logan is tearing through him, I’d say it’s all him.
He lifts him with the collar of his shirt again, this time bringing Mark inches from his enraged face. “Come back here again, and I’ll make you regret ever laying your hands on her. Stay away from Lana. And stay the hell away from Sora.”
My body shivers at his voice. I’ve never heard Logan speak in such a threatening and frightening tone. He’s standing up for me, protecting my honor, and I want to cry for being appreciated enough to be defended.
