Page 23 of Save Me

“Not before I claim my prize you’re not.” The room goes quiet at Arch’s tone, Preston and Stirling pausing their conversation to look at us.

My eyes dart between them all as terror grows within me, something even the alcohol can’t ward off.

“In case you can’t tell, Arch, she’s not some cheap carnival prize for you to do with what you want—”

“Rhett said—” Arch interrupts, before being cut off by Bryce again.

“I don’t really care about what Rhett said. I’m taking her home.”

Arch stands up, flanked by the others.

“Come on, Bryce.” He sneers. “Don’t make trouble for yourself.”

I notice Stirling moving closer to us, blocking our path to the front door, and I don’t see this ending well for anyone.

I look at Bryce, unsure of what to do or say. His hand reaches out for me, gripping my shoulder firmly and keeping me in place as if trying to reassure me to stay near him.

“Leave, Evi,” Bryce says quietly, his eyes not leaving Arch.

“Don’t be stupid, Bryce,” Arch fires back, walking towards us, his steps slow but intentional.

I turn around, wanting to get to the door, only to see Stirling shaking his head no at me, something dark glimmering behind his eyes.

I hear the first punch being thrown, the unmistakable sound of knuckles meeting flesh and the crunch of bone beneath it. In less than a second, chaos has broken out around me and I instinctively drop to the ground as I try to shield myself from it all. I’m not sure who threw the first punch, and I don’t really care, my eyes are wide with shock as I watch the fight unfold in front of me.

It only took a second, a second of me turning around, for something to shift in the guys, their movements now wild and predatory. They’re on Bryce, fists pummeling into him like a pack of wolves trying to bring down their prey. I start to turn towards the door, wanting to try and make a run for it, to get as far away from here as I can. But something makes me look back at Bryce and my feet remain glued to the floor, unable to move as I watch him get pushed to the ground, his eyes rolling back in his head as it hits the floor with an audible thud.

“Fuck,” Arch spits, bringing a hand up to a split in his lip. My worry for Bryce is replaced by a flicker of pride, and my lips tilt up in a small smile at the knowledge that he got at least one punch in before he was overwhelmed.

“What the fuck are you smiling at?” Arch yells at me.

I don’t give myself time to think before I throw myself to my feet, running towards the door.

Frustration and panic flow through me as my body doesn’t respond as fast as I want, my movements uncoordinated as I stumble away from everyone.

Rough hands grab my arm and drag me back towards the couch. I manage to twist free, taking two steps backward before rolling my ankle on an empty bottle, falling back, the ceiling now the only thing I can see.

A guttural scream sounds from somewhere deep in my throat as the glass coffee table shatters against my back and white-hot pain slices through my body. I don’t think I could move if I wanted to. The world spins around me as pain overwhelms all my senses.

“Well, that’s a shame,” someone says, and laughter sounds in response.

The voices sound far away, and darkness creeps into the corners of my vision as I fight to keep my eyes open. I feel hot and cold all at once, my hands trembling at my sides. I try to breathe but it sounds all wrong, my breaths short and labored as shock takes over my body.

I’m so focused on the sting in my back that I don’t even jump when a voice sounds beside my right ear. “I’d stay still if I were you, that’s a lot of glass you just landed on,” they whisper threateningly.

I try to move my head, move my body, away from the voice, but the movement sends another flash of searing heat through me, my vision going black from the pain.

When I open my eyes again, it feels like I’m dreaming, the world around me sounds muted, and it looks as though I’m watching everything happen through a thick fog.

I look up at those standing around me only to see a piece of glowing ash float down towards my face, its dance towards the ground mesmerizing.

I lift my hand, trying to catch the fleck of ash, surprised by the lack of feeling in my body. It’s as if I’m underwater, muffled conversation and my own breathing the only sounds meeting my ears as shock floods my system.

I think about moving, think about standing up and walking out of here, but before I do someone crouches down on top of me. I cough as smoke is blown into my face and Arch’s face appears before mine.

This is not real. This cannot be real.

I want to yell at myself to wake up, yell at myself to move. That this isn’t real, that I’m stuck in a nightmare and only need to wake up for this to end.

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