The Divide (The Divide Series Book 1) (8 page)

I tried to pull my arm from his hand but couldn’t. “How is it unsafe? You guys come to our sector all of the time, and it’s safe there. Remember the stalking you did earlier today?”

“That’s different,” he said. “People here would do anything to make a buck, including holding five idiots hostage. And I wasn’t stalking you.”

Ignoring his comment, I tried pulling my arm out of his grasp. “Can I have my arm back?” I snapped. 

“Only if you leave now.” He tightened his grip.

“I can’t leave,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m here with people.”

“Do you mean sucking face with people?”

“Jealous?” I asked innocently. Tapping my foot and raising a brow, I waited for his answer. 

“Of course not,” he said, “but I thought you would be more of a prude. What really surprises me is that you do actually have friends.” He leaned in close until his lips whispered up against my ear. My body tingled when his lips moved from talking. “Or are they actually people who could possibly be using you? But would you even notice it? I would put my money on no. Because, like I said earlier, you’re a loner who no one wants to be friends with.” It felt as though a rock dropped to the bottom of my stomach, but it was probably just my racing heart. 

Tears formed in my eyes. I leaned back as I tried blinking them away. Gregory's face showed no signs of emotion, until he saw the tears lining my eyes; what looked like guilt flickered across his face. “Please let go of my arm.” Turning my head away from him, I hurriedly blinked back the rest of the tears. Gregory’s hand slowly released my arm, and as soon as his fingertips stopped touching my skin, I hurried back to the others. 

Tyler was going on and on about some guy in our class, but I hadn’t heard a word since I sat back down. I kept my head down and my focus on my hands. I didn’t want to think that Tyler was just using me for something, whatever that could be. But why would Tyler just invite me somewhere out of the blue? I looked at the full glass in front of me.

“Hey, pretty lady,” a rough, scraggly voice said in my ear. Looking to my left, I nearly jumped out of my seat. A man, maybe in his thirties, crouched down next to me. He had three rather large scars all parallel with each other down the right side of his face. A menacing smile spread across his face as he looked me up and down. “You new here?”

“What business is it of yours?” Tyler asked. He leaned over me and came face-to-face with the guy. Probably not the smartest thing to do.

“What business? What business?” He laughed and looked over his shoulder to four other guys.
Great, he has friends
. “Well, you see here, this is our table.” He gestured to us. “And will you look at that? People are sitting here.”

“We were here first,” Mandy said. She flipped her hair behind her. “Go find somewhere else to sit.” Her gaze flicked up and down, and a look of disgust captured her features. 

The guy stood up and crossed his arms, putting his full attention on Mandy. “No, what’s going to happen is you all will vacate the seats and leave. Or at least the little boys will. I bet we could have tons of fun with you girlies.” My body shuddered. I did not want to have any type of fun with these men.

“No,” Tyler said.

The guy leaned over me toward Tyler. I tried to shrink back as best I could. “Do you not understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?”

“I’m very well aw—”

“Then you will get your asses out of our seats now,” he boomed. He slipped a knife out of his pocket and started picking at his nails with it.

My body stilled. The man was playing with the knife too close to my face. One little slip and I could get hit. “We’ll leave,” I said. I wanted to scoot farther away from but I stayed perfectly still. 

The guy turned his face toward mine and smiled sadistically. “I’m glad to see you have a thinker on your hands.” He put his free hand on my face, causing me to flinch, and ran his thumb over my cheek. “Pretty little thing, maybe you could stay and keep me and my buddies some company.”

I wanted to hurl his hand away, but I didn't. “No, thank you.”

“That’s a bummer,” he said, licking his lips.

Bile rose in my throat. I fisted my hands until I could feel the nails bite smartly into my skin. “If you can just put the knife away, we'll leave.”

“We're not leaving,” Tyler gritted out. I wanted to smack him; I didn’t want to be this man’s play toy or pincushion.

The man looked over at Tyler. “Boy, you must have a death wish.”

“Maybe you should have gotten here sooner, so you could have gotten the table first. We. Are. Not. Leaving.” Tyler enunciated the last four words slowly. He sat back in his chair and smiled at the guy.

The man looked at me, winked, and then punched Tyler in the face. I could hear the crunch, like someone stepping on glass, as Tyler's nose broke. Tyler and the chair fell backward from the weight of the punch. George stood and ran over to Tyler, but one of the man’s buddies grabbed on to him, and the two of them went down. Mandy and Sarah threw their drinks, with the glasses, at the man who was holding on to George. Tyler got up, holding his nose, blood pouring down. I could feel the blood leave my face. I was never able to be around other people’s blood. More blood gushed out as Tyler took his hand away, and I gagged at the sight of it. I had to look away, but I couldn’t. He wiped his hands on his pants before he threw a punch at the guy. I moved my head just in time to avoid being hit by Tyler. The man leaped over me and into Tyler, tackling him to the floor. George was now fighting with the man on the floor while Mandy and Sarah were both in headlocks by a different guy. They were scratching at his arms, but it was no use. The guy wasn’t budging. It would have been very comical if it had been a different situation and I hadn’t been involved. 

I slowly made my way off the seat at the same time Tyler pushed the man into me. We both fell, the man landing on top of me, knocking the wind out of me and my forehead smacked into the ground, stars bursting into my vision. The man was so heavy I could barely breathe. He was still on my back when Tyler came up and started punching him. I could feel the man returning Tyler’s punches because his elbows kept jamming into my back. I tried to cough to get some air into my lungs, but it didn’t work. The man’s head slammed into my back, and I screamed. It felt like someone had just hit me with a large hammer. Tears sprang in my eyes, threatening to fall. 

My hands clawed the cold concrete floor, trying to grip and move myself from under them, but I couldn’t budge. Tears blurred my vision as I reached out to grab the leg of the chair next to me, hoping I could topple it on top of the guys, but my fingers only grazed it. I tried again to move with everything I had, but nothing. Darkness was starting to cloud my vision. This whole not being able to breathe thing was becoming a problem. One minute, darkness was coming closer, and the next, the weight was off of my back and I was being lifted into the air. My eyes connected with Gregory’s, his eyes burning with anger while mine were burning with tears. He gently put me down on shaky legs, away from the fight.

“Thanks,” I whispered. 

Gregory nodded his head and went back over to the fight. A couple of other guys helped Gregory break apart the fight. Gregory pointed to Tyler. “Get your friends and leave.” Tyler just nodded. “And don’t ever come back,” Gregory said. He shoved Tyler toward the door. George, Mandy, and Sarah followed Gregory and Tyler. 

I started to follow when a soft hand pulled on my arm. Looking over my shoulder, the old man—who had served us—was holding a handkerchief out toward me. “Here you go, dear. You have blood down the side of your neck.”

“Thank you,” I said. I took the handkerchief and walked out of the bar, catching up with the others. As I tried to clean up the blood, I couldn’t tell if I had a wound or if it was one of the guys’ blood. Nobody talked as Gregory led us up the street. Tyler was holding his nose, George was holding his arm, and Mandy and Sarah had their arms entwined, whimpering. It took me a few minutes to realize that Gregory was taking us straight to the gatehouse. I shivered, knowing I would have to face my parents. Looking down, I watched my feet as we walked; I didn’t want to go home, but I also didn’t want to go back where we came from. 

“This is where I leave you,” Gregory said. I looked up to see the gatehouse just a few feet up ahead. The others walked up to the gatehouse, but I stayed where I was. Gregory walked toward me and stopped and lowered his voice, “if you were smart, you wouldn’t want to be friends with them. Especially the guy you kissed. He started that fight. He might not have thrown the first punch, but he egged them on. He put you in harm’s way because of that. Think about that the next time he wants you to do something stupid.” I looked up, but he was already walking away. Taking a deep breath, I made my over to the gatehouse. The soldiers were already asking everyone for their passes, and since none of us had them, we told them who are parents were and watched as they called each of them up. We waited in silence for half an hour. Tyler looked like he couldn’t care less, and Mandy was still whimpering, saying something about her neck hurting. Sarah cried silently. George looked as scared as I was. Was he going home to a monster? Finally, the door flung open, revealing my father—every inch of his face etched in anger.

“Let’s go, young lady.” My father grabbed my arm and dragged me out the door. As we got to the car—the only car that was used outside of the army—my father all but threw me in the backseat and then followed. The car ride to the house was a very long and tense five minutes. Before the car was even stopped, my father opened the door, grabbed my arm, and pulled us both out. He rushed us up the steps, and when he opened the front door, he threw me in. I hurled onto the tile floor, smacking my jaw, pain radiating up my face. That didn’t slow me down, though. My hands shot out to help slow the momentum, but I twisted and they slipped, causing me to face plant onto the floor.

“How dare you do this to me,” my father yelled as he kicked me in my stomach. I cried out as his foot hit my ribs, hearing a deafening crack. “My own daughter sneaking out.” He grabbed my hair and pulled me up, slapped me hard across the face with a closed hand, the sting spreading through my cheek, and sent me into the hallway table. The table and I both landed hard onto the ground. My face stung, and I was doing all I could to not let the tears fall in front of him. It would be that much worse if they did. “You make me sick,” he seethed in my face. Standing back up, he kicked me one last time in the gut before walking away.

I wheezed. I couldn’t breathe. I tried sucking in air, but sharp pains shot up my abdomen and chest. After what felt like hours, I slowly got myself into a sitting position. I was finally able to take a few more breaths while I tried to ignore the pain. A gentle, familiar hand softly took my arm. I looked up into Agathy’s soft blue eyes. I tried to smile but failed. She helped me up off the floor. “It'll be okay.” Looking down at the table, I started to bend down to pick it up, but Agathy stopped me. “Let me get it. You just go upstairs, take a hot shower, and go to bed.” I nodded my head and gave her a small, appreciative smile.

I kept one hand on my ribs and the other on the wall as I walked up the stairs. Every time I moved, it felt like I was being stabbed over and over again in my stomach. As I reached the top of the stairs, my mother stood in her doorway with a drink in her hand. “You are such a stupid little girl.” With that, she turned around and headed back into her bedroom. I slowly walked to my room and shut the door behind me. As I crawled into bed, I covered my whole body with the comforter and let the tears fall. I cried myself to sleep.

Light shined brightly as I woke with puffy and swollen eyes; my abdomen screamed at me as I sat slowly up in bed. I tried taking a deep breath, but my ribs cried out in protest, causing me to yelp; I wasn’t sure if one or more of my ribs were broken or if they were just badly bruised. Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I slowly made my way off the bed; pain zipped through my body. My feet hit the soft fabric of the carpet and my eyes slowly opened. I pushed myself gently off the bed and headed toward the bathroom. Since my bedroom was still semi-dark, I had to place my hand on the wall and let it guide me. My hand curled around the handle of the door and I opened it and massaged the wall until my fingers hit the light switch. As the lights blared on, I pressed my eyes closed. One at a time, I slowly opened each eye, squinting into the brightness. 

When the light spots danced out of my eyes, I took in my appearance. My hair was a mess, sticking out in every which way. A large bruise covered my right cheekbone, with a thin cut playing peek-a-boo through the storm-blue color. My fingers gently skimmed over the bruise. Flinching back, I lowered my hand. I tried to smile, but the pain from the bruise brought my lips into a grimace. Even glaring at myself caused me to cringe in pain. 

Slowly, I grabbed the end of my shirt and tugged it up and over my head. I gasped as I took in the picture of my body—I knew it would look bad, but not this bad. A large black and blue bruise covered my left side, and another bruise covered my lower stomach on my right side. I couldn’t tell if they were all from my father or if I had gotten some of the bruises in the bar last night. Slowly, my fingertips trailed down my left side, sucking in a breath and doing the same on my right. Dropping my pants, I examined my legs—only a few sparse bruises, nothing major. I went over to the shower and turned on the water, then walked back over to the mirror and just stared at myself until my face disappeared in the steam. Finally—making my way over to the shower—I got in and winced as the showerhead pelted bullets of water on my bruised body.