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“Get off her now!” David yelled.
“Leave if you don’t want some!” Archie yelled back.
The sound of my shirt ripping rang in my ears, and the warm spring air hit my chest, the thought of them seeing my shame nearly paralyzing me. Thomas had damaged me enough that I was more concerned with them seeing my bruises than I was with the sexual assault that they were forcing on me right now. They might even believe that Chasin had given me the bruises, something that I didn’t even want to think about. The thought of them telling everyone about the damage on my body had me fighting them harder, desperate to keep my secret.
“This is what you get, bitch,” Bridgette snarled down at me, her bloody lip dripping down her chin.
“I’m taking whatever hole you don’t use,” Reynaldo cackled, and I could feel my stomach threatening to throw up everywhere.
“I’m using all of them,” West snarled right before he ripped my shirt some more.
“I love a slut that’s broken in,” Archie sneered.
“Get off her now!” David kept yelling, trying to rein them in. “I’m not going to jail for this!”
“Not until I fuck this cunt,” West bit out, his face red with rage. “If she can fuck Carver, then she can fuck the rest of us.”
When West began yanking my panties down my thighs, I started kicking with all my might, another fist to my stomach for my efforts. There was no way that I could fight all three of them, making David my only hope.
Biting Bridgette’s palm, as soon as she pulled her hand back, I screamed for a boy that owed me nothing. “David!”
Two seconds later, the sound of West’s car starting had everyone stopping in mid-assault. Even my own body froze at that small sound of hope. I prayed that David was going to go get help, but he was probably just trying to save himself. If he really cared, then he’d be calling the police right now.
“What the hell is he doing?” Bridgette cried out.
“Fuck, he’s leaving us,” Reynaldo cursed.
Before I could process what was happening, everyone was scrambling to race towards the car. I rolled over, trying to get to my feet, but West hadn’t held back on any of his punches. Plus, my panties were tangled around my knees, my shirt a ripped mess. My brain was torn between running and taking the time to cover up. I was so screwed up in the head that I couldn’t even process survival right now.
Roling onto my stomach, I started crawling my way to my purse, knowing that I just needed to get to my phone. Even if I couldn’t call my parents, I could still call the police or ask for an ambulance. I’d call Chasin if I wasn’t aware of Thomas’ bruises still shining through.
However, before I could crawl even an inch, everything turned black.
Chapter 21
Chasin~
I was losing my fucking mind. I couldn’t find Jett anywhere, and I was going out of my goddamn mind with where she could be. She wasn’t answering her phone or replying to my texts, and I was on the verge of breaking down her front door, though she’d been adamant about not wanting me to meet her parents just yet. However, I couldn’t think of where else she could be. I’d driven to the library, the diner, and even the bridge. I’d even gone back to campus, searching the library and science labs for her.
My palms were a bloody mess as I sat in my car, looking over at her house. While I didn’t want to get her in trouble with her parents, I didn’t know where else to look. Most people would be worried, but crime was practically non-existent in Carver. Even though random crimes of opportunity happened all the time, it was just insane to think that anything unsavory might have happened to her. People didn’t look the other way in this city; they were too hellbent on making sure that Carver remained the rich privileged town that it was.
With no choice, I got out of my car, then headed up the walkway. Jett might kick my ass later for this, but she’d get over it. Besides, had she answered her texts or any one of my million phone calls, then I wouldn’t be here. There was also the possibility of her parents not even being home. She’d said that it was lonely at her house after school, and that her parents were always working late.
Ringing the doorbell, I wiped the blood from my palms on my school slacks. The damage was going to make it awkward to shake her father’s hand, but I wasn’t too worried about it. As soon as I introduced myself, I doubted that Mr. Morgan would care about a little blood on my hands or his.
The door opened a few minutes later, and either by nature or design, Jett looked nothing like her mother. Mrs. Morgan’s hair was light brown, and she had blue eyes, not hazel ones like Jett. She was petite like her daughter, but that was about it. Though I’d always known what Mr. Morgan looked like from his many campaign trails and how diligently I had stalked Jett over the years, I never realized just how much she looked like him until seeing just how much she didn’t look like her mother.
“Can I help you?” she asked, her voice sounding polite and cultured.
“Is Jett home? I’m Chasin Carver, a friend of hers.”
Her face paled a bit, her eyes flaring for just a second. “Chas…Chasin Carver?”
I nodded, my fingers finding their way back to my palms. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And…and you’re…you’re friends with Jett?” she sputtered, her blue eyes darting around alarmingly. “Like, actual friends?”
Her reaction to my claim had the hair on the back of my neck standing up. “Yes, ma’am,” I repeated. “We’re friends. “
