he can take his break!” called Joe as she turned and left. “Shoulda taken it ten minutes ago!”
She turned to the left, walking past a barn door and then another.
“Don’t wanna, Artie.”
Verity stopped in her tracks, holding her breath, listening intently.
“You’ll do it if I fucking tell you to do it, you fucking retard.”
The voices were coming from behind her, but far enough away that if there’d been any other noise around her, she wouldn’t have heard them at all. She turned and entered the dark barn, her heart racing as she called, “Ryan? Ryan? Are you back here?”
She passed two stalls on her right, then entered a far interior ring that circled the backs of the stalls and connected them inside.
“Ryan?” she called again.
“Stooooop!” he moaned.
His voice was slightly muffled, coming from the left, and she turned and ran toward him, her breath coming in pants of fear as much as exertion. Still circling as quickly as she could, she stopped in her tracks to find her brother on his knees, Artie behind him with his knee wedged into Ryan’s back, and a steaming pile of horse shit about two inches from Ryan’s face.
“What?” she panted. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Your brother’s about to have a snack, princess. But he can save some for you if you’re hungry.”
Artie reached forward and shoved Ryan’s head down just as Verity reached for the first thing she saw—a metal feed bucket—which she drew back and hit Artie with as hard as she could. Artie was knocked off-balance, and Verity ran to Ryan, pulling him up by the arms. His nose and forehead were covered with horse feces, and tears fell down his face.
“Ew! Ew! Ver’ty. I got poop on my face! It’s poop!”
“Don’t worry about that!” She swallowed, battling feelings of anger and sadness, sheer horror and revulsion. “You go run and get Joe! RUN! NOW!”
Ryan scampered off, and Verity turned toward Artie, who had finally risen to his feet, blood running from his temple as he stared down at her with menace.
Her eyes blazed with fury. “My brother’s getting help. I’ll have you arrested for harassment.”
“Your brother’s a retard, and it’ll be his word against mine, you dumb cunt.”
Seizing her by the hair, he pushed her up against a wall, his front to her back, leaning close to lick her ear. “You’re spreading it for Lane. Why not for me?”
Struggling against the wall, she reached back to hit or punch him, but he thrust forward, imprisoning her against the stable wall with his body.
“Joe’s coming,” she whimpered.
“It’ll take the retard a minute or two to find him. We’ve got time.”
Hot tears of fear and fury burned her eyes, and she tried to kick him, but he yanked her hair and bit her ear. Hard. “Stop!”
“I thought you’d like it rough,” he said in a dirty voice.
“Please,” she begged, hating the tears that were falling, hating her weak plea for mercy when he was an animal, a sadist, possibly a closet rapist. “Just let me go.”
His hand reached around for her breast, and he squeezed it roughly, painfully, through her costume. “Mmm. Nice. Now I know why Lane—Ahhhh!”
Suddenly, her hair was free, and the hand that was touching her breast was gone. She braced herself against the wall, managing to turn around in time to see Colton pick up Artie by the hair and slam his head against a stall door. Artie fell, limp, to the ground, blood spilling from a gash on his forehead, but Colton picked him up by the hair again and slammed his fist into Artie’s face—once, twice, three times—causing a sharp cracking sound and an explosion of blood from his nose. Artie didn’t make a sound. He was already unconscious from the first two blows.
“Colton!” she gasped. “Colton, stop!”
But Colton was like a demon, an avenging angel, reaching for Artie’s body again. She had to do something before Colton killed him.
“COLTON!” she screamed as loud as she could. “NO!”
He jolted suddenly, staggering backward and shifting his head to look at her. His eyes were dark and feral as they searched her person wildly. After a too-long moment, he took a sharp gasp of breath and dropped Artie’s body to the ground like a sack of feed just as Joe and Ryan came rushing into the barn.
Verity leaned back against the wall of the barn, slumping, sobbing, as Colton stepped over Artie’s body and reached for her with bloody hands. She fell into his arms, letting him