Page 27 of The Penalty Box

I inhale sharply, my lips parting and giving him enough space to slide his tongue inside my mouth. The bitter taste of beer is strong on his tongue. I stand motionless as it dives deeper, swirling around mine sloppily.

This isn’t what I want.

“N-No,” I protest, trying to get out of his reach, but the grip he has on me is strong.Too strong.

His lips land on mine in a forceful kiss. That meaty mouth assaulting mine possessively.

Wiggling in his arms, I manage to loosen his grip just enough to pound with my clenched fists against his chest. “Noah, p-please stop.”

Tears are clouding my gaze, fear like I haven’t felt in my life spreading through my body. Cold sweat coats my skin as my stomach rolls uncomfortably.

“Evie?” I hear the tentative voice call my name from the darkness. The music is so loud at the beginning I think I’m imaging it, but there it is again, this time louder.

Liam.The realization hits me at once. Relief and shame swirling inside of me make the tears fall as I struggle to break free.

“Li—” I manage to break the kiss, but it’s only a second before Noah swallows my yelp in help.

Finding one last ounce of strength, I use it to push him away with all I’ve got.

“No!”

“Evie!” In my attempt to get away, I trip, losing my balance and falling down on the floor.

Liam looks between the two of us. Even in the darkness of the night, with the faint glow of the moon, he doesn’t miss anything. I can see the fury rise in him when he sees me on the ground with tears rolling down my cheeks. I try to get on my feet, but my legs are shaky. Soft sobs rip out of my lungs as I use the back of my hand to rub my mouth. The dots slowly start to connect.

“You motherfucker,” he grits as he crosses the distance in a hurried stride. “She said no!”

Chapter Twelve

LIAM

There is a light knock on my door. Tossing the ball I have in my hand up in the air, I call out, “Come in.”

Mom’s head peeks through the gap in the doorway, her worried eyes landing on me.

“You’re home,” she points out. She pushes the door open and leans against the doorway, looking at me.

“So happy you noticed,” I say dryly, giving my best to ignore her. If I do, maybe she’ll walk away without saying whatever she came here to say.

My eyes are glued to the ball in my hand. I watch as the white baseball slides through the air, almost touching the ceiling before it falls down to my hand and I repeat the process. Over and over again. Maybe if I do it enough times I’ll manage to keep my eyes on the task instead of letting them wander over to the window so I might catch a glimpse of what is happening across the yard.

Is she still home? Is her light turned on? Or is she out somewhere? Withhim?

“It’s Friday.”

The ball slaps in my open palm, and I toss it in the air, this time more forcefully.

“So happy you know your days of the week, Mom.” I hate my words as soon as they leave my lips, but it’s not like I can take them back. Something that keeps happening more and more lately. Whatever I say, I end up hurting people I care about and pushing them away.

“Don’t you sass me, boy. I’m still your mother.” She warns in a strict voice before she lets it soften a bit. “Is it the game?”

Oh, the game. If that’s what you can even call it. More like a blood bath.

“This has nothing to do with the game.”

“There will be more games, Liam.”

“We almost lost. Because ofme. It’ll be a hot day in hell when the coach lets me start again.”

---