Page 133 of Wicked Brutal

Dad opens the other car door. “Alison.” I look at him. His expression is perfectly normal. No indication that less than an hour ago he had me trapped inside a coat closet with his hand around my arm. “Go home. Help your mother with Tobias.”

“Yes, Father.”

“We may be gone overnight.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll call Jane when I know.”

“Yes, sir.”

Victor gives my waist one final squeeze before releasing me. Then I’m inside the car. The door closes. Through the tinted window, I watch the two of them climb into the other town car. Neither looks back.

I don’t breathe properly until we’re moving. My arm throbs beneath the sleeve of my dress, but somehow Victor is what I feel everywhere. His hand on my knee. His arm around my waist. His fingers against my back. His thumb against my mouth. His fucking mouth. I scrub my palms over my thighs. It doesn’t help. His cologne is still in my hair.

I pull out my phone. Ryan has texted three times.

Ryan: you alive

Ryan: pretty girl

And two minutes ago:

Ryan: if you don’t answer me I’m going to start committing felonies recreationally

in car. alone. they’re flying somewhere

Ryan: where

don’t know

Ryan: you okay

home in like 40

By the time the town car turns into Edgewood, I’ve made up my mind. I need Ryan. Not tomorrow. Not at school. Not through my phone. Tonight.

The driver drops me at home, and I go inside wearing the same expression I’ve worn for hours. Mom asks where Dad is. Tobias wants to know what I ate. I tell Mom that Dad and Victor went to the airport and might be gone overnight, tell Tobias the restaurant didn’t have a single chicken nugget on the menu and therefore he’d hate it, and escape upstairs before either of them can study me too closely.

I lock my bedroom door. Then I take off the dress.

The bruises have already started coming in. Four dark marks curve around the outside of my upper arm with another forming beneath them, purple spreading through angry red skin. Fingerprints. His fingerprints. I stare for approximately three seconds before pulling on leggings and an oversized sweatshirt.

I don’t shower. I want to. I can still smell Victor in my hair, and every part of me wants to scrub until my skin hurts, but I don’t want to stand beneath the water alone with today running through my head.

So I wait. Until Tobias is settled downstairs with Mom. Until the movie gets loud enough to cover the ordinary sounds of the house. Until I’m sure Mom isn’t coming upstairs. Then I turn off my bedroom light and open the window.

The stupid thing sticks halfway up and nearly ruins my escape before I manage to shove it the rest of the way. My bedroom isn’t high enough to make getting out especially difficult.

I lower myself down, drop the last couple of feet, and immediately cut across the dark stretch of lawn between our houses. No front door. No lights.

I circle around the Harrington house and climb onto the back deck. The kitchen light is on. I tap softly against the glass. Once. Twice. Movement inside. Then Ryan appears.

The second he sees me, everything about his face changes. He crosses the kitchen and unlocks the door. “Ally?” I step inside. His eyes move over me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He closes and locks the door behind me. I stare at his chest because looking at his face suddenly feels impossible. “Pretty girl.”