Page 118 of Sticks and Stones (Shadow Valley U)

There’s a sink directly to my left, and a toilet on my right.

I’m wedged between the two, the bathroom door wide open and giving me a view of the rest of the small place. A trailer, maybe? Judging from the size, a double-wide.

I shift my weight and wince at the ache. My muscles fucking kill, but my head is the worst.

I test the tape, but it holds fast. The pipe groans, though, and Wren’s head snaps in my direction.

“Stone,” she whispers.

It feels loud in this otherwise silent space.

“Are you okay?” I ask. “Did he—?”

Her eyes fill with tears, but she shakes her head quickly.

I sag against the wall.Good. If he had touched her, I would kill him. No contest. No hesitation. I glance around the tiny bathroom, but there’s not even a window in here.

“I’m sorry,” Wren continues. “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to—”

“Now, now.” Her father steps into the trailer. “Are you making promises you know you won’t be able to keep?”

A chill sweeps down my spine.

She stiffens, turning sharply away from me and back to the chemicals at hand.

Meth. Fuck. It dawns on me that she cooked for him, and that’s what she’s doing now.

She’s trembling, holding onto the counter, as he steps into her space and runs his knuckles down her cheek.

And I lose it.

“Get your hands off her!” I yank on my arms to no avail.

Her father chuckles, moving past Wren and entering the bathroom. He pulls a gun from the waistband of his jeans and shoves the barrel against my stomach. I go completely still. But I still give him my best withering glare.

He chuckles. “Awful way to die. Shot in the stomach. All those nasty acids and bile mixing up in your abdomen. The pain…and the blood.” He digs the gun in harder. “Don’t tempt me, boy.”

Fuck.

After a long moment, he rises and heads back toward Wren. She’s stopped what she’s doing and faces us. Her skin is nearly the same color as her white coat.

Her dad smiles. “You know, I had planned to take your foster brother. You loved him, so it seemed like the best course of action to use him to make you comply.”

Another man enters the trailer. A bigger guy—maybe the one who knocked me out, I don’t know. Either way, Wren’s posture turns defensive. Her shoulders hunch, and she sidles closer to the counter. Her fingers wrap around the neck of one of the beakers.

“Get him up,” Wren’s dad orders.

The big guy comes for me, a knife suddenly in his fist. He reaches over my body and slices through the tape, then hauls me up. My legs are fucking jelly, my vision spotting white. He gets me in front of him, my arms behind my back in his vise grip.

Jessie stops in front of me.

“Wrenny,” he calls. “Are you going to stand there all day or fuckingmake something?”

His fist smashes into my jaw. My head whips to the side, and I would’ve fallen if the guy behind me didn’t keep me upright. He lands another punch to my gut, knocking the wind out of me. I gasp, bending forward, and he grips the top of my head by my hair. He pulls my face up, stepping out of the way so I can see Wren.

She’s a shaking mess.

But I’m okay.