He was out of control, completely.
“Bil y,” I whispered.
He hit me again, so hard my head and body flew to the side and I went down on my hands and knees. Then he kicked me in the ribs, his boot slamming into my body so hard, it pul ed me off the floor. Then he dropped down and rol ed me over, tore the remains of the sweater off me and forced his thigh between my legs until his h*ps fel between them, his groin pressing against me.
“I should f**k you, right here, in his bed. Leave a present for him on his sheets.”
God, no. Please, God, no, I thought.
I started struggling again, my ribs were burning where he kicked me, my face aching, I could feel the blood there. Bil y didn’t notice my struggles.
“I should do it but we don’t have time,” he said and I had just a second to thank God before Bil y said, “Get dressed.” He got up, jerking me up with him.
“Get dressed! ” he screamed.
Shaking and scared, I got dressed.
* * * * *
I tried to escape. He took me to his car, parked out in the street behind Hank’s 4Runner. He drove, at first, like a madman, silent, crazy.
I left him to his thoughts. Mine were of survival, then escape.
Once we left Denver, he seemed to calm.
I decided it was time to try to speak, maybe reason with him, maybe talk him around. “Bil y, I have to go to the bathroom,” I said.
“Shut your f**kin’ mouth.”
Okay, so I was wrong about him being calm.
He drove, fast.
Close to the Colorado-Nebraska border, we stopped at a gas station.
“Bil y, I have to go to the bathroom, see to my face,” I said quietly.
He turned to me. He didn’t look like my handsome, sweet, dreamer Bil y anymore. I didn’t even know this man.
“You run, I’l catch you. Make no mistake.” I nodded, I believed him. Stil , I was going to try.
He got me the key and I went to the bathroom. There were other cars at the station and the people in them stared at me but gave us a wide berth.
I looked at my face in the cloudy, pocked, gas station mirror. There was blood running down my left cheek and it was smeared along my face. The cuts weren’t bad but they were there bleeding a lot and the bruising and swel ing had already started.
I felt my nostrils burn and I took deep breaths to stop the tears from coming. Tears would leak energy and I needed everything I could get. I forced back the tears, washed my face and stayed in the bathroom as long as I could, hoping someone would cal the cops. Hoping I’d hear sirens.
A fist pounded on the door.
“Get your ass out here!” Bil y yel ed.
I tilted my head back, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Then I pushed open the door with al my strength and ran, straight by Bil y, hel bent for leather, no destination in mind, I just wanted attention, to get someone to help. So I ran, screaming at the top of my lungs.
I saw the surprised stares turn to shock, people fil ing up their cars or waiting in them, stunned immobile at the sight of Bil y chasing me. Then, he caught me, dragged me kicking and screaming to the car, shoved me in the driver’s side, got in with me and, somehow, we rocketed from the station even as I was fighting him.
I saw a man run toward us, but he was too late.
Bil y drove wild, fighting me as he drove. I didn’t care if we wrecked, I’d take the damage of an accident to my body far easier than I’d take any more damage from Bil y.