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Chapter Twenty Three

I ran across the empty grass expanse of nothingness. I wasn't sure if I was really screaming or not, but my screams were exploding in my head. Panic had overtaken every other emotion in my body.

From a distance, I heard a car door slam.

"BROOKE!"

Garrett.

I had no idea what direction I was heading. I stopped. There were no street lights or lamps or anything. I was in the middle of nowhere.

The sound of footsteps behind me propelled me forward. I made out the distinct shape of a jagged building ahead. Grass gave way to gravel that stuck painfully in the bottoms of my feet, slowing me down.

I might have been in good shape from dancing on stage for two hours every night, but Garrett had strength and speed training from the basketball court. My kick hadn't slowed him down enough. His hands gripped the back of my dress and I fell painfully down on the rocks. Raw burning pain shot through my knees.

"Where you going?" he taunted. I tried to reach back and hit him, but he grabbed my arm and twisted it painfully at the elbow.

"You play dirty," he hissed. "I like that."

Even as I twisted and turned, he managed to roll me over onto my back. Tears burned my eyes.

I heard the sound of fabric ripping. The hand that I had thought was so warm when it held mine was forcefully sliding up my leg, yanking the dress up. I suddenly hated being a girl. I lost the fight in my body. I was tired. I was cut.

I was alone.

Garrett was going to win.

"Get the fuck off her."

I didn't recognize the voice at first. What I did recognize was Garrett's body being tackled off of me and my fight-or-flight instinct come back.

I chose 'flight.'

Of course, I didn't know where I was flying. I sprinted the distance to the building I had seen. It was just a piece of play equipment. I ran past it. I wasn't going to trap myself up in a tiny little room.

I hated tiny little rooms.

After a minute my feet left the gravel and returned to grass. After another second I felt the crunch of sticks and the gritty feel of dirt. I looked up. I was surrounded by trees.

I had seen enough horror movies to know that getting lost amongst the trees wasn't good. But nothing about this night was good. I backed myself against the tree and rooted through my bag. Somewhere in the scuffle I had lost my cell phone.

My fingers flew around the contents of my bag. This was why girls took their time to organize instead of dump everything. They could find something when they needed it. I couldn't find anything. I let out a soft whimper of frustration until finally my fingers felt metal.

My key ring.

I yanked my keys out of my purse and fumbled with the set. I finally found my small light. I pressed the sides and it turned on. It was just a narrow little beam, but it worked.

I unhooked the light and held it out in front of me. I rooted around my key ring again until I found a small little cylinder.

All of us Carter girls carried mace at all times. Had I been thinking, I would have used it on Garrett after I had hit his gonads.

But I hadn't been thinking.

I heard footsteps. My hand shook but I refused to let the light turn off. I held the spray out in front of me.

"Brooke?"

There was the familiar voice again, but this time it wasn't filled with rage. It was cautious...questioning.

"Brooke?"

A branch moved nearby. A blonde shaggy head appeared.

Trevor.

From the weak beam, he met my gaze.

"He's gone."

Trevor was holding his sleeve up to his nose. I could see the blood.

I suddenly realized that I was practically half naked. I dropped the mace, kept the beam of light trained on him, and wrapped my arm around the top of my dress.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I didn't know how to respond. I didn't know if I could respond.

I hiccuped instead.

He held out a hand.

"C'mon, I'll take you home."

I stared at his hand warily.

"It's okay. Just follow me."

I heard a crunch. He was leaving. I didn't want to be left alone in the woods. I caught a flash of his shirt and started to follow.

We went past the playground. Trevor's car was parked not far from it. He opened the door. The light from the interior reflected his face.

"Your nose," I finally managed to say.

"It's nothing," he said.

I got into the car. My dress was in shreds. I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. I heard the trunk open and shut. The driver's door opened and something soft and fuzzy brushed my arm.

"Here, put this on."

It was a light gray hoodie. I took it and slipped it over my head.

Trevor didn't say anything else. He started the car.

"Where do you live?"

I gave him my address. He looked over at me.

"Nice neighborhood," he commented. "We just moved not far from there."

I brushed the sleeve against my face. A dark line of mascara ran onto the fabric.

"Why were you out here?" I whispered. As he drove, the confirmation that Garrett had taken me to the wrong side of Tampa was apparent.

"I used to live over here," he said lightly.

"In the park?"

He cracked a smile. A thick line of blood dripped close to his mouth and he wiped it away.

"No, but pretty close."

"Why were you there tonight?"

He glanced over at me.

"I used to go to the park when my parents started fighting," he said. He sounded so nasally. "I guess old habits die hard."

"Your parents fight?"

"That's putting it mildly. I was hoping my money would help, but..." he trailed off and shrugged.

I knew I probably should have been crying my eyes out, but everything hadn't sunk in yet.

"What happened to your nose?"

That produced a little smile. "I wasn't thinking and thought head-butting that pond scum would be effective. It was, but I think I broke my nose."

"No."

"It's alright. Noses can be fixed." His eyes slid over to me. "Are you okay?" he asked again. I took a deep breath.

"I think so. Thanks to you."

He shook his head.

"Any guy would have done the same thing."

As he pulled up to the house, I studied his bloody profile.

I highly doubted many guys would have done the same thing.

He had saved my life.