Brenda's POV
Brian brought me to my feet by my hair, he pushed me toward the door, and I saw my cell phone; I attempted to grab it off the counter when he punched my stomach, thumping the air from my lungs as I bent over. He crushes it on the floor, my phone breaking into pieces in my watch. He kicks me in the stomach, and I spew. The little food I had gobbled rises to my throat and spills onto the floor alongside my blood.
Spots moved before my vision, and specks of gold as a flood of discombobulation washed through me, the room twirling around me fiercely. My blood dripped on the floor. Brian's feet halted next to my face when hands got me, and I was thrown behind him. He kicked the door, sending it flying into the front of the yard prior to stepping down the stairs.
"Open the trunk,"
