“Will you f*****g look at
this?”
The voice is hard and stings like a slap in
the face. I feel Dylan roll over and then suddenly his hands are
stripped away from me, his touch is gone, and he cries out, “Hey!
Get off me—”
Harsh hands grip my shoulders, drag me from
the bed. Out of the shade of the lower bunk, the world is too
bright—I can’t see, and when I try to wipe the sleep from my eyes
someone twists my hands behind my back. “What—” That’s as far as I
get before I’m shoved against the upper bunk, a fist clenched in my
hair, burying my face into the mattress. I struggle but my wrists
are held fast behind me, someone kicks apart my feet, I can barely
breathe and just what the hell is going on here?
I hear Dylan snarl, “Don’t you dare touch
him, let me go—” Then there’s a f
