SEVENS

ITS DARK IN THE TOOL SHED

A|N: content warning for more physical violence, abuse, and serious injuries

Everything was too loud. My breathing, choked by my shirt collar. My feet, dragging through the leaves. The creaking of the barn door as it closed behind us.
It was cold too, it had started to snow on our way back to the house from the station. Heavy, sticky, wet snow that cooled me through my hoodie and the bottoms of my shoes. The smell of cow manure filled the air, brought by the cold winds. Though it could have easily been my own fear I was smelling.

The barn to my knowledge hadn't been used for animals in years. Instead it had been cleaned of hay and manure and filled with tools and old car parts. When I had first come to the Riley's I had joined Mark and Reece and Brennan as they built a car from the ground. I'd studied and watched and joined and had been happy. Learning by their sides I had been happy. But after the accident, after Brennan's death, after the abuse had started I pulled further and further away until I listened from outside the wooden frame hoping to learn from wandering words.

We hadn't even stopped by the house. Drove straight past and along the back road to the farm nestled in the center of the property. The lights shone and lit up the inside of the barn while the doors were wide. But Mark threw me to the floor and shut the doors.

For only a second we were immersed in complete darkness and I realized I didn't want to die.
It was a force to my sternum, a want so bad and so strong I couldn't breathe.
I wanted to live.
I couldn't see myself making it to sunrise.

The lights flipped on with the roaring of a generator and I began scrambling back across the splintered wood floor. My bandaged hand and stomach throbbing in protest, weakening and tearing more at the movement.

After being brought in by the police along with Alex and Max I had been transported to the hospital while they had been interrogated. They'd been blamed for my state and we had all been accused of gang related violence. The cops said Allan and Max had retaliated against me to keep me silent about Brennan's death, that there was some new case coming up which involved all of us. And the last I had seen of Allan and Max was them slouched next to each other in handcuffs. Max watching me be carted off on a gurney and Allan watching his brother with worry.
They were likely still in jail. And here I was, no better off, having only been given antibiotics by the doctors and a "get well soon" from the nurses. I wanted to feel guilt for putting Max and Allan through that but all that was coming to my mind was sheer panic as Mark heavily stalked towards me.

I knew he wouldn't kill me. He was too smart for that. Knew from his time on the force that murder was a harder thing to cover than abuse. Even with the hold he had on the community. But that didn't stop the racing of my heart.

I ran into a post holding the loft and used it to clamber to my feet. I stumbled out of the way just as an axe came hurling into the wood. It was nowhere near where I had been standing, the only solace I had. He wasn't going to kill me, but he would sure make me think he would.

I couldn't catch my breath though. The sight of the axe embedding in wood had my body freezing in terror. His fist landed on my shoulder when I moved in time to avoid getting hit in the jaw. I stumbled back with the force and into the tool bench.

Mark was fast approaching and I reached blindly behind searching for anything. My hand gripped the handle of something and I yanked my arm back to throw. It hurdled towards him and missed. He stared at it with disbelief and I had time to grab for something else. This time I had better luck. The hammer hit him smack middle of the ribs.

I bolted. Each step was heavier than the last but I fought to get the few feet to the barn door. If I could get out I'd be okay. I'd be okay for the moment. I just needed to get out. My feet fumbled beneath me, heavy from adrenaline and panic. I felt like a rabbit outrunning the rolling wheels of a truck fast approaching.