Dare You To (Pushing the Limits #2)(112)

“He’s going to kill us!”

Mom lowers her head to her knees and continues to rock.

“Mom!” I scream. “Please!”

Mom hums loudly and my heart breaks open. She’s never going to change. No matter what I do. No matter how I try. My mom will always be this poor pathetic waste of life. I won’t be her. I can’t. I grab on to an overturned chair and force myself to my feet. Trent tackles Ryan and they both go crashing to the floor.

“Leave him alone!”

Trent rises to his knees, punches Ryan in the face and Ryan falls once more. Panic tears at me. He’s going to kill Ryan in front of me. The f**king bastard is going to take away everything I love.

I launch myself at him and smack and hit

and claw. He bends my wrist and arm in a way not physically possible. Bones in my arm snap and pop. A scream tears through my body as pain blinds me.

He lets go and I fall to my knees in agony.

My scream becomes silent as Trent squeezes his fingers around my neck. I gag and try to suck in air. Nothing happens. Thoughts flash through my head at a frenzied pace. I need air.

He’s going to kill me. My hands go to the fingers crushing my throat, but I can’t pry them off.

He’s stronger than me and powerful and he’s going to win.

Trent jerks and his fingers loosen. Ryan holds Trent in a headlock as I collapse to the ground and draw air into my burning lungs.

My hands flutter near my neck and cover where his fingers marked my skin.

“Baby!” Mom’s hand joins mine on my throat. “Are you okay?”

Dazed, I nod.

Mom snatches my biceps and yanks in an effort to get me off the floor. “Let’s go.”

Ryan curses and I unsuccessfully struggle to stand. “Help him, Mom.”

Ryan locks his other arm around Trent’s neck and yells, “Go, Beth!” Trent battles against Ryan’s hold and Ryan’s face strains as he fights to keep his grip.

Mom shakes her head. “Let’s go. Now. He’ll hurt me.”

Trent elbows Ryan in the gut, swings around and lands a blow to Ryan’s face. Ryan falls.

“No!” Screams and pleas fly from my mouth. Blood covers Ryan’s face. Trent stands and kicks Ryan in the stomach. I scream out in pain when I place weight on my left arm.

“Help him, Mom!”

“We have to go now, Elisssabeth.” Mom calmly slurs my name. “I want to leave. I’ll go with you now.”

I turn my head and stare at the eerie image of my mother. Her tired eyes with their constricted pupils look at me as if I’m a shadow instead of her daughter. Mom squeezes my hand again. For the first time, she’s not rubbing her arm.

Cradling my left arm close to my body, I grip the table and pull myself to my feet. “You shot up?”

As I stand, Mom drops to the ground. In shame? In exhaustion? Too high? I don’t know.

Refusing to watch Ryan die, refusing to make eye contact with me, Mom covers her head with her arms and rocks over and over again.

Blood pours over my eye and my sight wavers as my body sways to the side. My fingers accidently hit Mom’s cordless phone near the edge of the table.

Heroin.

It destroyed me nine years ago and one phone call cost me my father.

Heroin.

If I call, my mother will go to jail.

Heroin.

My finger slides against the numbers and like nine years ago I listen to the phone ring once, twice, a third time. The world turns black, then reappears in a fuzzy tunnel. My knees buckle and I force consciousness for a few more seconds.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

Ryan

I SET MY CELL to the loudest ringtone and place it on my chest before I rest my head on my pillow. Beth’s supposed to come home from the hospital today and because of that I’ve refused pain medication. I want to hear her voice on the other end of the line and know that she’s only a mile down the road instead of thirty minutes away in Louisville.

Then, for the first time in more than a week, I can sleep deeply.

My body is one slow, throbbing ache. Every pressure point pounds in time with my pulse.

Broken ribs, bruised everything, and cuts. Each and every injury worth the cost of saving Beth.

“Can you tell me why?” My dad’s voice carries into the room.

My eyes flash open and I turn my head to see him leaning against the door frame with his gaze pinned to the floor. It’s the first words he’s said to me since I hit him. He’s been around. Present, but not speaking. I don’t feel bad about it, because I haven’t talked to him either…until now. “Why what?”

“Why you risked it all for that girl?”

“Because I love her. And her name’s Beth.”

No response. Sometimes I wonder if Dad knows what love is.

“Scott called,” he says stiffly. “He wanted to remind you that there are rules now. He’s angry with both of you and he won’t be letting her out of the house anytime soon.”

I return my focus to the ceiling. I can deal with rules as long as I’ve got Beth. Scott’s been a mixture of grateful and pissed. In hindsight, maybe I should have called him when I found Beth’s note, but I don’t think Beth would have listened to him. She needed me.

“I don’t think you should continue to see her,” Dad says.