I don’t move.
Dean twists my arm behind my back, hard. A scream rips from my throat. The pain that is shooting through me and into my shoulder is blinding. My gaze falls to the ground. Dean is talking, saying things that I can’t hear. He releases me, but the fire inside my bones doesn’t stop burning.
Dean pushes me with his shoe, yells at me. “Shut the fuck up. People are going to get the wrong idea.” Dean pulls me up by my other arm and drags me. When he’s nearly there, he lifts me onto his shoulder like I’m a child. He’s going to throw me inside.
I freak out. My brain snaps and goes Cujo on his ass. My teeth sink into his shoulder and I bite down. His shirt tastes of blood and I bite down harder. Dean screams, cursing, and throws me. My back hits the ground first. White spots form around the edges of my vision, making it hard to see. Unbelievable pain shoots up my arm and into my shoulder. It’s a million times worse than before.
I’m screaming. I don’t even know what I’m saying, but I start repeating, “Leave me alone!” over and over again. When Dean tries to pick me up, I kick at him. My foot connects with his face.
“You fucking whore!” Dean is holding his cheek, growling at me. “I’m going to make you pay for that.” He’s coming at me again. I stay down and kick at him. Dean dodges my feet and manages to grab my ankle. He drags me toward his truck. I twist around and try to crawl away. The asphalt shreds my palms to bits.
“Stop! Let me go!” I’m screaming. I’m trying to fight back. I am not getting in that truck. I manage to twist my hips quickly and roll onto my back again. I kick hard and my heel jabs him in the balls.
As soon as Dean’s hand is off my ankle, I roll over and crawl back to my bag. I find my keys, but before I can get up and run to my car, he hits me. Dean’s hand strikes the side of my face. The keys go flying. I’m sobbing and screaming. Snot and blood are mixing together. Dean is holding my face so hard that I can’t pull away. My teeth are biting into my cheek drawing blood. I taste it inside my mouth.
Dean’s brow is covered in sweat. He hisses in my face, “Get into the truck and I’ll make this easy on you. Keep fighting back and your ride home will be much less enjoyable. Do you understand what I’m telling you?” One hand is on my face, holding me tight. The other slips between my legs, over my jeans, and he grabs me.
Instinct takes over. I’m not the same girl I was four years ago. I’d rather die than let him touch me again. I slam my head into his nose and hear it crack. Blood gushes everywhere. Dean growls so deeply that he sounds more animal than human.
I’m running. I have no idea what I’m going to do, but I run back toward the English building. Halfway down the sidewalk I run straight into Peter. My body slams into his. He steadies me, holding my shoulders and I cry out.
Peter’s eyes narrow and a look of fury spreads across his face when he notices the blood. It’s everywhere. “What happened?”
“He’s here. Behind me in the parking lot.” I can barely breathe.
Peter drops his things and pulls out his cell, punches in a number, but the call doesn’t connect fast enough. He’s looking around. He doesn’t see them, but I do. I stiffen in Peter’s arms. Sam and Dean are walking towards us. Peter is dressed in his suit pants and white button down shirt. His jacket is draped over his bag. He doesn’t look threatening.
Sam and Dean grin at each other when they see me with him. Peter steps in front of me. “What’s going on? Which one of you did this to her?”
Sam throws my bag at my feet. “Cut it out, Sidney. It’s time to go. Pick up your shit and get in the truck.”
“I’m not going with you.” I wipe my face with the back of my hand.
“It’s not an option,” Sam says, his eyes flashing a warning at me.
“She isn’t going with you,” Peter repeats.
Sam steps toward Peter. “I’m her brother. I drove down here to get her and bring her home. Our mom needs her. I guess she didn’t recognize Dean.” He looks over at his friend and laughs. “She must have thought you were a mugger or something. She beat the shit out of you, man. Sid didn’t even recognize her old boyfriend.” He turns back to Peter and acts like what just occurred is normal and could have happened to anyone. Sam holds out his hand, gesturing for me to come. “Let’s get going. It’s a long drive back.”
“You’re her brother?” Peter asks. Sam looks at me and then nods. “And you’re her ex?” Dean is holding his shirt to his nose, trying to stop the bleeding.
“Yeah, that’s what he said, shithead.” Dean says it to Peter, but he’s staring at me like he intends to rip me apart once we’re alone.
Peter’s voice is so deep that it rumbles. His shoulders tense. He only says two words. “Leave. Now.”
Dean laughs and looks at Sam, and then back at Peter. “Or what?” Dean steps in front of Sam and keeps talking. He’s so close to Peter. “You’ll write me up? Any chance you have a little crush on my girl? Because she is my girl, Sidney will always be mine.” He grins at me and my insides go cold. “Did she tell you that we used to be an item? Did she tell you that she likes some messed up shit?”
Peter doesn’t respond. His hands are at his sides. The only reason that I can tell that he’s upset is the way his fingers twitch every few seconds, as if he’s.
Dean gazes past Peter, and gives me a look that makes me sick inside. “Or did you already do her?”
Peter doesn’t answer.
Sam is annoyed, “Cut it out, Dean. I don’t want to hear what shit my sister does in bed.” He snaps his fingers at me like I’m a dog. “Come. Now.”
“Aren’t you going to answer me?” Dean smirks and presses his finger tips to Peter’s chest. “Or are you just pissed because she won’t sleep with you.” He pushes Peter again. Harder this time.
Peter moves. In two steps he’s behind Dean with his arm around his throat. Peter’s hissing in Dean’s ear, saying things too low for me to hear. Dean claws at his throat. He swings his elbow back, but doesn’t do it hard enough to make Peter let go.
“What the fuck?” Sam yells. He gives me a look that I recognize all too well—this is your fault. Sam throws a punch and hits Peter in the side. Peter lets go of Dean. Sam and Dean go at him.
I scream, bellowing like a banshee. I can’t stop. The players down field stop and look toward us.
The three guys are fighting, but it seems as though Peter is getting overpowered. I don’t know what to do. There are a few guys from the field hurrying towards us. Peter lands a hit on Sam’s face. Something cracks. Sam drops back, yelling. Dean doesn’t stop. His knife, that fucking knife, is in his hand. Peter’s eyes lock on the knife and he backs away. Sam moves and is telling Dean to put it away, but Dean doesn’t. He jabs it forward, narrowly missing Peter.
No, no, no. My bag is on the sidewalk. I see it, that silver pen, the one Millie gave me this morning. I race toward it and pick it up. I’m so nervous that I can barely line up the cap with the mark on the side. It isn’t a pen. It’s her pepper spray. I shake the thing as I rush back toward Dean and Peter.
Peter sees me coming. I spray my brother. He screams and rubs his eyes, cursing at me. When Dean turns to see what’s happened, the stream of liquid hits him in the face. Dean yells, clawing at his face and doubles over, dropping the knife. I kick it into the drainage ditch and tug at Peter.
“Take me home. Now.” I grab my bag, Peter grabs his, and we’re running toward his car. The field full of guys sees us run past. They don’t say anything. I recognize Mark. He sees my face, the blood. His eyes widen before they narrow. He pulls out his phone. I see him talking as we pull away.
CHAPTER 24
Peter is breathing hard, his hand clutching the wheel. We’re driving away from the college. “Are you hurt?’
My head is against the seat. My eyes are pinched shut. I nod. “My shoulder. I think it’s not in the socket.”
“Hold on a few minutes more, okay? I can fix that. I’ll get you some pain medicine and you can call the cops from my place.” He pulls into the parking lot and he helps me up the stairs. Peter has a cut on his cheek, but he looks pretty good. Me on the other hand, I look like hell.
When he sees me in the light, Peter nearly has a coronary. “You’re bleeding.”
“Most of it is his, not mine. I think I broke his nose with my face.” I rub my forehead. “My head hurts. It feels like my brain is in a vice.” We’re in his apartment. I’m standing in his living room with panic dripping through me. The feelings are still raging through me even though I’m safe.
Peter hands me Advil. I take them and swallow the pills down. Peter explains what he’s going to do to my shoulder because that does seem to be the problem. I tell him to do it. I cry out when it pops back in. “That hurt just as much as pulling it out.” I rub my arm. There are tears in my eyes.
“What happened?” Peter’s hands are on me, gently sliding down my face, my arms. He’s so careful. “What did he do to you? Did he—”
“No,” I breathe. My pulse is finally slowing down. “He said stuff and grabbed me. He didn’t do anything else, besides try and shove me in his truck. All this happened because I wouldn’t just go with him.”
Peter’s fingers touch the ends of my hair. “You fought back. Good girl.” He takes a deep breath and reaches for the phone. “I’ll call it in.”
I take his hands and stop him. “No, don’t.”
Peter looks up at me. “Sidney, you need to report this.”
“Sam didn’t do anything. It was Dean.”
“Sam chose to help the wrong person. You don’t owe him anything.”
“He’s my brother. Peter, please. Let me think about it. I can’t decide right now. Please don’t, not right now.”
