Page 84 of Hate So Deep
“For wh–” My words are cut off when someone grabs me from behind and shoves me along the side of the dark house.
Staggering forward, I turn as Danny disappears down the street, assessing the new threat.
Two assholes stand before me and when the one on the left licks his lip, his tongue twirling around the ring there, I suppress a shiver.
Why am I here? Why would Danny lead mehere?
The guy to my right with a tattoo of a star under his eye looks me up and down and raises a brow. “We been looking for you, sweetness.”
“Yay,” I say briskly and attempt to step around them.
Righty laughs, his dark eyes squinty and grabs my arm. “Not so fast. We got a little message for you.”
“Not interested,” I say, and he pulls me around before shoving me to my knees.
I drop with a gasp and clench my fist. I admit that despite all my bravado, I’ve never actually been in a fight.
I should’ve thought of that when I started crashing parties across the proverbial tracks though because shit like this is a given in this neighborhood and there’s two of them and one of me. The odds are not in my favor.
“Back off,” I hiss and Lefty laughs, tapping my head with his bony finger. “Or what?”
Of the two, Lefty is thinner, almost too thin and this is why I target his nads because I refuse to be beaten or worse raped by two goth fuckers with too much time on their skinny ass hands.
My pointy elbow does the trick and when he groans, and grabs his junk, I feel a trickle of satisfaction until Righty slams his boot into my stomach and I roll away, moaning, “Stop.”
He follows up with a kick to my face, hissing, “I ain’t stopping bitch. So shut the fuck up.”
Absently I touch my nose, noting the blood on my fingers before I attempt to crawl away on my hands and knees again, but he grabs my hair and wrenches me back.
Although I try to kick out with my feet, it's futile and I drop to the grass in a daze while he nails me in the stomach once more.
Am I going to die?
Inexplicably, visions of Buck's broken and bruised body in the hospital pass over my vision and I close my eyes.Please just leave.
Despair rolls through me heavily as I pray to whoever might be listening and when a car passes on the street, followed by another, the asshole standing over me pauses.
They’re driving fast, racing maybe and I bite back a whimper when Righty says, “Shit, Toro. We gotta go.”
Lefty…or Toro, I guess, sits up with a whimper, eyes me and says, “This is your only warning, bitch. Stop asking about your brother if you know what’s good for you.”
Fuck you, I snarl, but wisely keep my mouth shut and once they’re gone, I drop to the grass and cry.
When my phone buzzes against my ass, I roll to my back and stare at the sky.
I’m assuming if someone is willing to beat me up in order to scare me off from asking about that night and my brother, that I can safely set aside any concerns about my possible involvement in his death.
Score one for me, I guess.
My ribs protest when I raise my phone and read Caro’s message.
Where u at?
Everything hurts as I push to my knees and drop against the side of the house.
Walking anywhere is not an option, but I can’t stay here. For all I know those fuckers might come back.
After dialing her number, I close my eyes and try to take stock of my injuries.
