Page 43 of Bones
I tried to fight, but Dale pinned my arms down. Panic made me struggle for each breath now, desperate and furious tears welling up in my eyes. Pike leaned down, his foul breath hot on my face.
“Don’t worry, baby.” The victory in his eyes made my eyes overflow. “I can make you feel real good.”
His mouth slammed down on mine, and I squirmed, desperately trying to turn my head. He kissed me roughly, one hand sliding up my shirt, and for a moment I was back in the desert, sobbing and begging as Juck pinned me down.
I managed to catch his lip in my teeth, and I bit down as hard as I could. He yelled and the foul taste of his blood filled my mouth. When he pulled back, I was viciously pleased to see I’d ripped his whole fucking lip. I spit a mouthful of blood at him.
“Told you she was a biter,” Dale sneered.
I barely had time to gasp in a breath before Pike’s fist connected with my face. My head snapped to the side, the pain blinding me. He hit me again and I tried to move my arms up to shield my head, forgetting Dale had them pinned. His next blow connected with the healing gash on my temple and the pain burst through my head like a flare. When I finally focused on the room again, Pike had his pants undone and was fumbling with mine. He grinned as I struggled to stay conscious. I blinked and Juck’s face leered down at me again.
No! Gods…
Somebody tackled him off me and they went rolling like fighting cats. A roar of noise deafened me, and I tried to focus on the blur of movement, but everything went dark.
* * *
Pain jerked me back. A body was leaning over me, something pressed against my head.
I panicked, flailing. I tried to sit up, but someone’s hands pinned my shoulders to the floor. I gasped in a frantic breath and started kicking.
“Bones! Bones, it’s Mac!”
I froze, blinking up at him. It wasn’t Dale or Pike. Mac crouched over me and his eyes glinted.
“You’re safe. Stay down. You’re hurt,” he said, his voice sharp as cut glass.
I shoved his hands off me and got up on my elbows again before he even finished speaking, my eyes darting around the room. Pain stabbed through my head, but I didn’t see the men anywhere. I glanced down at my legs, relief making me even dizzier that my pants were still on.
Mac reached for me again, but I scrambled away, getting to my feet and staggering back to lean against the wall as the room spun. He got to his feet and stepped toward me, but then stopped and stood still, fists clenched at his sides, and a terrifying glare on his face.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, Bones,” he said. “That gash in your head split open again.” He held up a bloodied cloth he must have been pressing against my head. “You should sit.”
I could not fucking sit right now. All my instincts screamed at me that I needed to be on my feet, I needed to be able to run if necessary. I took deep breaths, trying to get past the dizziness, but I kept smelling that foul breath, kept feeling their hands on me, kept seeing Juck's face. My head hurt like hell. I touched the side of my head underneath the gash and sure enough, my trembling fingers came away bloody.
"You want a narc?" Mac asked his voice quiet steel.
“No!” I snapped, far too quickly.
I finally met his gaze to see him looking at me with one eyebrow raised. I swallowed my pride, panic roaring through my veins.
“Please, Mac, no drugs.”
He stared at me for a long time, but finally, he just nodded.
“Alright. No drugs.” He took slow steps toward me and held out the bloodied cloth. “Put some pressure on that. Looks like it’s gonna need stitches this time.”
I took the cloth and pressed it to my head as the room continued to spin. “I can do it.”
He looked me in the eyes, so close I could see the ring of golden sparks around his pupil. “Thought you said you couldn’t heal yourself.”
“I can’t,” I tried to snap, but my voice shook, “but I can give myself a couple damn stitches just fine.”
His gaze narrowed into a glare, but before he could speak, the door crashed open. I jumped and Mac spun on his heel, his hand on his gun. Then he dropped his hand back down with a scowl.
“Dammit, Trey, I almost shot you.”
Trey didn’t even pause, barreling his way over to me in a determined fury. I retreated a few steps, my body acting on instinct, and he immediately stopped, scanning me. His mouth pressed in a tight line and his eyes hardened.
