Page 31 of Goose's Wren

The woods look different out here.The roads are narrower, more overgrown.I’ve never been this deep into the outskirts of this side of town before.Not even growing up.

There aren’t even real driveways.Just ruts in the dirt, rusted-out mailboxes leaning at odd angles like broken teeth.

Panic claws its way up my throat as I sit up straighter, heart thudding so loud I can hear it over the rattle of his dying muffler.

I press my palm to the glass, watching the trees blur by, trying to memorize the turns, the bends, the way the light slants through the branches.If I make it out, when I make it out, I’ll need to remember this.

He finally slows, the car lurching over potholes and gravel, pulling into the weedy lot of a rotting single-wide that looks like it’s been condemned for a decade.

The sidings cracked and peeling.Windows boarded over with plywood and duct tape.The steps are gone, replaced by a piece of warped plywood propped against the threshold.

I barely get the door open before he grabs me by the hair.I scream and try to twist out of his grip, fingers clawing at his wrists, at the door frame, at anything.But he’s too strong in that drug fueled way that doesn’t care about consequences.

“Let me go!”I cry, kicking at the gravel as he drags me up the makeshift steps.“You’re insane!”

“Shut the fuck up!”he roars, and when I fight harder, he punches me.A sharp, brutal crack across the face.The world goes white for a second.My ears ring and my knees buckle.

I feel warmth trickling down my cheek before I even register the pain.He split my cheek open.

I’m barely conscious as he hauls me through the flimsy door and throws me onto a mattress.It smells like mold and piss.

My stomach rolls, but I force myself not to move, not to show weakness.I need my strength.I need my mind to stay clear.

He’s pacing now, muttering to himself, rubbing his arms like bugs are crawling on them.I can barely make out what he’s saying, but a few words hit me like a punch to the gut.

“Shouldn’t’ve left...got buyers on the way...teach you a damn lesson before the money gets here...”

My breath catches.Buyers?

“Selling my ass”—I think I hear.I pray I didn’t.But it makes too much sense, the way he’s moving, the way he keeps checking his phone, the wild glint in his eyes that says he’s not really here with me.Not anymore.

Tears sting, but I bite them back.Not like this.Not today.

Goose is out there.The club is out there.And if I know anything about them, it’s that they will come for me.I just need to try to keep calm until they do.

I try to use the hem of my shirt to wipe the blood from my eye, but it’s smeared and sticky.My hands are shaking too badly to do much good.My cheek is throbbing in tune with my heart beat.My vision is blurry, and my heart is hammering so hard I can barely hear anything else.Until I do.

He’s right next to me.Breathing hard.Too close.I glance over, hoping he’s just pacing again, but no.I see him fumbling with his belt, mumbling something low and awful under his breath.

My blood turns to ice.I know what’s coming.

Adrenaline kicks in, white-hot and blinding.I try to push myself up, but pain lances through my stomach as he kicks me with all his strength.The breath leaves my lungs in a gasp as I double over.

He’s already on top of me before I can completely curl into myself.His weight presses me down and his hand grips my wrist like a vice.

“No!”I scream, thrashing, fighting with everything I have left in me.“Get off me!You sick bastard!”

He slaps me hard, but I don’t stop yelling.I want the whole damn forest to hear me.Please let someone hear me.We struggle for what seems like forever but I know it’s only minutes when there’s a sound outside.A roar.Motorcycles coming close fast.

His head jerks toward the window, eyes going wide.He scrambles off me, stumbling like he’s trying to figure out if he’s hallucinating.I use the moment to roll off the mattress and crawl toward the wall, gasping for air.

Then, the front door explodes inward.And the Devil himself walks in and I feel like a huge weight lifts off of my shoulders.I can breathe a little easier.

His eyes are burning.Fists clenched.Shoulders shaking with rage.He sees me, and something in him seems to snap.

And this time?No one is stopping him.

Goose

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