Dare You To (Pushing the Limits #2)(111)

You’re so terrified of feeling anything that you’d rather give up everything good in Groveton in order to feel safe.”

My head jerks to the side and my eyes narrow. “Safe? I’m standing here in a f**king drug den trying to save my mother from a boyfriend who will be thrilled to kill me, then torture her. There is nothing safe about this.”

“This is your safe. You’d rather struggle in this life than live in Groveton.” He glances at the squalor of the apartment. “You feel in Groveton. In this life, you don’t have to feel a thing and that makes you a coward.”

I drop the bag in my hand and raise a shaky hand to my forehead. He’s wrong. He has to be. That’s not why I’m running. I need to save my mom because if I don’t, who will?

Ryan closes the gap between us. My heart stutters when he places a hand on my waist. “I wish I could say that I’m the one that drove you away, but I’m not. I don’t have that power.

You’ve been running from the moment I met you and I’d bet you were running before that.

“You’re a lot like that bird in the barn.

You’re so scared you’re going to be caged in forever you can’t see the way out. You smack yourself against the wall again and again and again. The door is open, Beth. Stop running in circles and walk out.”

His other hand brushes the hair from my face and my lower lip begins to tremble. “If I leave her she’ll die.” My gut twists and my eyes burn.

He cups my face with his hands and I lean into his touch. Ryan can always do this—make me feel safe. He continues, “If you stay it’ll kill you. Maybe not physically, but you’ll die on the inside. If you don’t want me, I’ll give you your space, but you have built so much more in Groveton besides me. Give up on us if you need to, but don’t give up on you.”

The instinct is to flee. Instead, I grab on to his arms. Fear claws at me and I don’t like how na**d it makes me feel. “I’m scared.”

Ryan lowers his forehead to mine. “So am I, but I’ll be less scared when we leave here.”

The front door opens. Bright sunlight blazes through the door and a gust of cold air announces the entrance of the devil. Trent’s looming figure stalks into the living room.

Losing control of my body, I feel my hands drop to my sides as my heart jumps to my throat. Ryan edges his body in front of mine.

Trent slams the door behind him and chuckles when he sees me. His eyes dart to the bag by my feet. “You should have stayed away.”

Behind me, I hear the soft shuffles of my mother. “Elisabeth was just leaving.”

Urging me in the direction of the door, Ryan presses his hand into my back. My mind screams run. My feet cement to the floor. It doesn’t matter if I move or not. Trent won’t let me walk out that door again.

“Let Ryan go.” I say it as a plea and Trent flashes a smile. It’s the first time I’ve asked anything of him and the bastard enjoys it.

Trent opens a box of cigarettes, puts one in his mouth, and lights it. He sucks in a long drag and blows out the smoke as he stares at me. I shiver as I watch the glowing ashes. The last time, Trent enjoyed listening to me scream when he burned holes in my arms. “Go ahead, boy. Get out. My problem isn’t with you.”

“Not without Beth.” Rage shakes Ryan’s voice.

I love Ryan despite everything, and if it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t be here. Shoving my hands against his chest, I push him away.

“Go!”

Ryan sizes Trent up and Trent does the same to him.

“Walk out the door, Beth,” says Ryan. “He’s not going to touch you.”

Trent laughs. Ryan is sturdy, strong, and young. Trent is larger, older, and a mean bastard. Last year, Isaiah and Noah took him on and the two survived because my uncle threatened Trent with a gun. My uncle isn’t here and I’m not lucky enough to own a gun.

Ryan inches toward me and the door. His eyes never leave Trent. “Let’s go.”

My pulse pounds in my ears. Maybe we can walk out. “Mom?”

“Don’t you dare move, Sky,” Trent says.

I hold my hand out to her. “Come with us.”

Ryan yells my name as his arms fly out in front of me. Pain slices my head. The ground rushes toward my face. A combination of darkness and light flickers from behind my closed lids. Noises blend into a high-pitched buzzing as warm liquid trickles from above my eyebrow to the bridge of my nose. I lick my lips and flinch at the salty taste of blood.

My eyelids flutter and I fight to keep them open. The room shifts and spins. Forcing my eyes to focus, I see the shattered remains of Mom’s table lamp on the floor next to me.

The buzzing fades and I turn my head to the sound of a struggle and grunts. Ryan shoves Trent into the front door by tackling him at the waist. Trent quickly responds by punching Ryan in the stomach.

Ceramic cuts into my hand as I crawl toward them. “Stop.” My voice comes out soft and hoarse. Ryan stumbles but is able to block a hit, then buys himself seconds by socking Trent in the jaw. I force pressure onto my legs so I can stand, but I fall.

Sitting in the fetal position on the other side of the room, Mom rocks back and forth on the floor. I swallow and force words out of my raw throat. “Help Ryan, Mom.”

“I can’t.”