Page 23 of This for That (The Edge of Retaliation 1)
Jemma moves to my left to assist another girl, and I find myself unprotected in the garden. I keep my eye on her, but she’s busy assisting.
A hard voice fills my ears, and my skin prickles as I turn and see Trisha walking over. She gets down on her hands and knees, so it’s not obvious that she’s causing a problem. I look back over to Jemma, who is discussing something with another guard, then the two of them walk over to another girl, even farther away. She looks unwell, her face pale, and she’s hunched over panting.
“You didn’t think you could hide forever, did you?” Trisha hisses.
I turn back to her, and then drop my head and keep working.
“Ignoring me won’t make this go away. You got me in some serious trouble. My sentence is a few months longer now because of you and your filthy rich ass. You couldn’t possibly think I was going to let you get away with it.”
“Please,” I mutter. “Just leave me alone.”
“Your little guard boyfriend isn’t here watching over you this week; you’re open for the taking. I’ve got big plans for you, Callie.”
I look to her and snap, “Just leave me the hell alone!”
She grins and stands. For a moment, just a moment, I think she’s going to walk away.
Instead, she raises her foot and slams it down on my fingers. I try to jerk my hand away but she twists her boot, crushing them so hard into the dirt I can’t pull away. I cry out in agony as a crunching sound can be heard. She twists her boot, over and over, until I’m wailing for her to stop.
Then, she steps back and turns without another word and walks off.
Pain radiates through my hand as I lift it and stare down. My fingers are already swelling, and one of them is sitting at an odd angle. She broke it. She broke my finger. Vomit rises in my throat as pain shoots through my body.
“Callie, what happened?” Jemma’s voice cuts through the throbbing sound in my ears.
“I . . . I dropped a log on my fingers,” I tell her, thinking of the only thing I can. There are logs lining the garden bed, and they’re heavy. We have been straightening them up as we go. It isn’t a terrible lie. “I didn’t mean to. I fell forwards . . .”
“Are you sure that’s what happened?” she asks, helping me to my feet and glancing around.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I say, my voice shaking from the pain.
“Let’s get you to the nurse.”
She calls another guard over and has her take me out of the garden and inside, but not before I glance at Trisha. She watches me go, a low grin on her face. She knows she has me right where she wants me. She knows I’m not going to say anything. She knows it, and she’s going to keep doing this.
My chest clenches with both pain and anxiety. I don’t want to spend the next five years here. I don’t want to be tormented for the rest of my sentence.
Tears burst forth and roll down my cheeks. The guard helping me has absolutely no sympathy for me, and doesn’t even flinch at my sobs. Pain and heartache make an agonizing mix in my body.
I want to go home. I’d do anything, anything in the world right now to be at home.
I can’t do this.
I can’t survive here.
Please, make it stop.
10
NOW – CALLIE
“This is incredible,” I tell Tanner, staring at the inside of his very cool race car.
It has roll bars, and cages on the windows instead of glass, and it’s absolutely so amazing. I’d say I would love to go for a ride, but honestly, that idea terrifies me. Spinning around corners, risking an accident? That brings back memories I’ve spent the last six years trying my hardest to forget. I don’t want to think about it, so I lean over and look into the back seat, studying the rest of the car.
“It’s a lot of fun. You should join me one of these days. It’s a rush.”
I swallow, and force myself to say, “Sounds fun.” I turn back and face Tanner. “You’re a man of many talents, aren’t you?”
He shrugs, crossing his arms and leaning back on the driver’s side of the car. “You could say that, yeah. I enjoy a range of things, old cars being one of my passions.”
“And yet I saw you on a motorcycle the day I met you.”
He grins and gives a low chuckle, and fuck, it’s sexy. “I guess the correct way to phrase it would be I have a passion for anything with wheels. I like the speed of a bike, the open road, the wind in my face, but I love the feel of old cars, the history, the stories, and the generations that have passed through them.”
