“Fuck, people are coming. Is it her? Has he texted back?”
Who?
The guy holding me down spoke. “Fucking shit. He hasn’t messaged back. If we got this wrong, he’s going to kill us himself. He’ll never know he can trust us. Let’s just take her anyway. Dump her on the side of the road if it’s not her.”
The palm that was over my mouth, holding my head down, loosened just a tad. They stopped beating on me when I stopped struggling. They were waiting for confirmation. My worst nightmare was coming true. My blood hardened. Fear morphed into anger.
I could sense the nerves rolling off the guys; they were younger, maybe even close to my age by the sound of their voices. The one who inflicted the most pain on me was pacing back and forth, tiny flakes of the ground crunching underneath his boots. People were about to pour out of the stadium. Piper was going to come looking for me. I tried to look around at my surroundings. I couldn’t have been too far from the bathrooms, but when you’re kicking and clawing while getting taken down with a hand over your mouth, you lose track of time and your awareness.
I heard a phone ping, and even though my body was already hurting in places I couldn’t even register, I hastily opened my mouth and bit down on the hand covering my face as he loosened his grip. Rule number one of the Hayley Fight Club: never let your guard down. Lucky for me, the bastard underestimated the strength of a seventeen-year-old girl.
He screamed out and withdrew his hand hastily. I spun my body around, gravel scraping my stomach. I screamed bloody murder and hopped to my feet, ready to take off. I didn’t dare look back to see if they were running after me. I ran until I tripped over something, losing my balance. I quickly spun around on my hands and looked in the direction I came from.
All I saw was darkness and a few flying insects through a tiny stream of light. I jumped up again and climbed the grassy area, wheezing and unable to catch my breath. My foot slipped twice, and I was just waiting for a hand to wrap around my ankle, but nothing ever came.
I could see the brick-covered bathrooms up ahead with people swarming about.
“Hayley!”
I whipped my head over to Piper, my now loose braids smacking me in the face. My feet took me over to her quickly, and her wide-eyed expression had me turning to look back. They followed me, and now I just put her in danger, too.
“Run.”
I grabbed Piper's hand and dragged her alongside me. We passed by curious faces, bumping into random people. As soon a
s we made it to the parking lot and we were in the comfort of other people trying to get to their cars, I leaned my back against her hood and tried to catch my breath. I was gasping as adrenaline ran through my veins.
Piper’s mouth was still wide open as her gaze ran all over my body. I tried to catch my breath to explain what happened, but she just kept rambling, “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” Then, she reached out to touch me but thought twice and, instead, pulled her phone out. “I’m calling 911. You're…you have…there’s a lot of blood. Hayley, can you talk? What happened?”
“No!” I yelled before slumping down on the ground. Now that the adrenaline was starting to give way, things hurt. My stomach ached. I could still taste blood in my mouth. It seemed my eye was swelling, because I could only see half of her face. My words were choppy. “I don’t have money. No hospitals. Pete and Jill will be mad. And Ann will know.”
“Hayley!” Piper bent down, her red hair swaying in front of her worried face. “Oh my God. Okay, um.” She covered her hand with her mouth. “Get in the car now. Lock it. I’ll be right back.”
She helped me to my feet and gently put me in the backseat. I slowly slumped down, my head resting on the soft fabric. I wasn’t sure where she went—maybe to get me some wet paper towels to clean the blood up. At this point, I didn’t care. Lying down felt better than sitting against the hood. My body started to come off its high. I trembled and continued to breathe through my nose. A small noise sounded from around me, but I was too tired to open my eyes. It sounded like a whimper.
Oh my God. Is that me?
I reached up and felt my face. It was wet. Sticky and wet.
Am I crying? Why does this hurt so bad?
Suddenly, the car moved a bit, and the door opened up. A cool breeze hit my face, and I clenched my eyes shut. Jesus Christ, they’re back, and I don’t have enough fight left in me.
“Hayley.”
My eyes snapped wide as I heard his voice.
Christian.
Chapter Twenty-One
Christian
The sight of her felt like I had gotten my throat punched. My knees wanted to buckle. I could barely form words. I covered every inch of her body with my gaze, fear and anger wrapping itself tightly around my windpipe.
She was bloody. Her face was wet, shining under the car’s interior lights. The right side of her cheek was red and had small pebble-like cuts dotting the skin. One eye was swollen shut. Her shirt was ripped, and her flat stomach had scrapes down the front.
Hayley squeezed her eyes shut when she saw me. She curled into herself even more, and that sent an entirely new line of fear down my spine. Hayley didn’t do that. She didn’t cower. She didn’t fold into herself, and I was pretty sure she didn’t cry. She was far too tough for that.