Gage and I ended up falling asleep on the couch. I was lying on top of him, my arm still around his waist and my other arm beneath him. He looked peaceful as he slept. His features were relaxed and no part of him seemed worried or upset about the night before. His lips were parted and by the dark circles beneath his eyes, I figured he needed the sleep. I didn’t want to wake him so I pulled my arm from under him and slowly drew back. He shifted, groaning while gripping my arm and muttering something I couldn’t make out.
Sighing, I freed my arm again and hopped off the couch. I turned, seeing if he would wake up or move again, but he remained perfectly still, his breath evening out again. Satisfied he was still sleeping, I turned and slipped on my flip-flops, hurried for the door, and stepped out, shutting it behind me quietly.
It was windier that day. The trees behind the buses were brushing with the howl of the wind. If I wasn’t mistaken, a storm was coming. The clouds were grey and a light fog hovered in the parking lot, surrounding the buses and swarming all around me.
I shivered from the breeze, hurrying to my bus, but hearing someone yell, “GET UP!” caused me to flinch and stop in my tracks. I froze, gasping as I scanned my surroundings. No one was around; the parking lot was empty. I figured it was one of the security guards in the trailers being rowdy over a sports game, so I turned for my bus again, but this time I heard a loud SMACK and someone cried out in pain.
I gasped again, hurrying for the noise. The smacking and bone crunching happened over and over again, and as I got closer and closer, it sounded extremely painful. Grunting filled the silence and as soon as I rounded one of the trailers, I froze in my tracks, staring ahead in complete disbelief.
Bent over on his knees was Deed. His head hung low, blood running from his lips and dripping onto the pavement. His floppy, wet hair fell over his eyes and he was sniffling while clutching his middle. It surprised me that he was bending over, but what surprised me even more was seeing the man in the suit (whose presence always freaked me out) standing above him with nothing but hatred in his eyes. His large hand was balled into a fist and held in the air and his jaw was locked as he glared down at Deed. As they heard my gasp, both of them looked up at me, and the man lowered his hand slowly.
“W—what are you doing?” I tried to keep my voice stable… Unfortunately, I failed terribly at it.
The man in the suit ran a hand through his peppery hair. He looked at Deed once more and took a step back. “It’s none of your concern,” he said, sliding his fingers into the pockets of his suit pants.
“Why are you hitting him?” I snapped. I then looked down at Deed, but his head was hanging in shame and he was still sniffling, his jaw locking while he clutched his middle. “Deed,” I whispered. It sounded more like my voice had broken. “Are you okay?”
“Eliza… I’m fine. Just… leave,” he murmured.
I flared instantly. Hearing his voice crack and fill with agony brought back harsh memories. Memories I didn’t want to relive. A smacking upside my head. A kick in the stomach. A blow to the chest. A slap on the face. Leather against my fragile skin. It all came tunneling back to my mind, and I took a step forward. “You worthless piece of shit,” I hissed at the man in the suit.
He chuckled, amused by my sudden rage, but I wasn’t having it. I wanted to sock him right in his fucking jaw. Now I knew why Deed had such an attitude lately. It wasn’t me. This man was to blame. I felt for Deed then because being tossed around and beaten up was never a good feeling. It hurt. I knew from experience.
Shoving past the man, I helped Deed to his feet, but he winced as I hooked my arm around his shoulder. Drizzle sprinkled over us as I grabbed his arm to keep him up. “Deed, look at me,” I said, tilting his chin. “Are you hurt?”
He nodded once but kept his lips sealed. “You shouldn’t be here, Eliza,” he whispered to me. “You’re just making it worse for me later on.” Just as Deed spoke, there was a blow against his back and he crumpled. I didn’t want him to fall and I couldn’t support all his weight, so I ended up falling against the pavement with him.
“We aren’t done talking, Dedrick,” the man said, seeming entirely too intimidating for either one of us to handle. I scrambled back with Deed, but the man kept taking steps forward, his eyes dark, menacing.
He then pulled his leg back, lifting his foot higher in the air, and I knew what was coming. He was going to kick him. And by our proximity—by the way I was sitting in front of him, trying to defend him—I knew the kick might come at me first.
I winced, preparing for it. The higher his leg lifted, the more frightened I became—the heavier my heart banged against my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut. I would do it for Deed. He was hurting already. I would take the blow and tell Ben right away to toss this man in jail. Who the hell was he anyway?
Just as the thought surfaced, someone roared, “Bentley!” from a distance. I turned quickly, spotting Gage, whose eyebrows were stitched. His nostrils flared and his lips were pinched so tight that the skin around his mouth was pale. The skin over his knuckles was as white as snow because of his clenched fist.
“Look, all you fuckers are worried about me and my business. Mind your own,” Bentley snapped, but before he could speak anymore, Gage stormed forward, punching him in the jaw. Bentley stumbled backward and started to fall but caught himself. Growling and grimacing at Gage, he charged forward, but it was too late. Gage widened his stance, his fists clenched and ready for him, but before he could get to Gage, a few large men stormed out from the trailers nearby and rushed for Bentley. Their grips locked around his arms and he tried to pull away, swing, and even shove, but they weren’t having it.
Bentley then laughed sarcastically, looking around at each man, at Gage, and finally, Deed and me. Deed’s head was still hanging down and he was breathing painfully hard behind me. Who is Bentley to Deed?
“This is funny,” Bentley said, gazing around with a wide, eerie smile. “Truly funny.” He yanked his arm free of the men’s grips and stormed for one of the trailers nearby. The door slammed behind him and with a few grumbles and concerned looks, the men were back in their trailers as well. Gage was still standing, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Bentley’s trailer.
I stood slowly, struggling to bring Deed with me. Gage heard me grunt and rushed for us, hooking Deed’s arm around his shoulders. “I got him.” Gage sighed, taking him away from me. “Go and get your day started, Ellie. We’ll meet up later.”
I nodded, refusing to argue. I was terrified. I was so close to being kicked—so close to being hurt and put back into the nightmare I once lived, that I had to get away. Shit. Bentley triggered it.
I started panicking, panting in and out my nose and mouth a little too quickly. I rushed for the door of my bus and banged on it. Ben appeared, fully dressed and smiling, but as he took in my horrid, pale face and how fast I was breathing, he panicked as well and helped me inside.
“Eliza, sweetie, what’s wrong?” he asked, dragging me toward the couch.
I heaved in a breath, but it didn’t seem like enough. Oh no. I was reliving it again. The flashbacks were coming. The smacking. The beatings with leather belts. The shoving against my back. Her tormenting words as she laughed at me while it happened. It was painful, scary.
“Eliza, what did I tell you before?” Ben said, squatting down in front of me. “Breathe, Eliza. It’s the past. Just… breathe, baby.”
I nodded, taking in deep gulps of air. I started to calm down as I squeezed my hands together, my leg bouncing up and down to try and get rid of it. Unfortunately, it kept coming back and my breathing only increased. Soon I was hyperventilating and Ben cursed beneath his breath, pulling away from me. He stormed down the hallway and I clutched my chest, feeling my heart pounding a mile a minute.
I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t get myself under control. I was older now and it was over with. It’d been a while since I thought about it, but being a witness to Bentley’s abusive side brought back the harsh, terrifying memories. It dredged up the agony and sent my world crashing down around me. My ribs were closing in around my heart; my lungs were deprived of any oxygen.
The front door of the bus swung open, but I didn’t bother to look up and see who it was. I couldn’t. I was stuck.
“Eliza?” Gage called from the door.
I wanted to answer him. My heart had even skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. I was glad to hear it, but I couldn’t stop. It was surprising that when he spoke, the worries vanished a little bit.
He came closer and bent down on one knee. “Eliza, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice shaky. I shook my head, still squeezing my fingers together. He looked down at my fingers, his eyes wide as they met mine. “Eliza, tell me what’s wrong.” He cupped my face, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Breathe, Eliza. Breathe. What’s wrong?” he whispered.
He kissed my cheek and my heart skipped another beat. The heavy breathing slowed and I squeezed him, begging him to say something else to rid my mind of the memories. My fingernails bit into his arm as I squeezed him harder.