“You fucking bitch,” he muttered.
He rolled over, shooting off me, and I opened my eyes in time to see his foot come in for my head.
I widened my eyes and rolled away, my heart in my throat just as the toe of his foot hit me in the eye.
Fuck.
I squeezed my eyes shut, and I could feel the blood dripping over my cheek bone.
“Goddammit,” Will yelled. “Enough!”
“Is that enough, Emory?” Aydin chimed in. “You giving up?”
I didn’t have a chance to respond. Taylor straddled me, slapping me once and then again, and I barely had time to catch my breath before he planted his hand over my mouth and plugged my nose.
I inhaled, blood coating my face, but I couldn’t get any air in. My lungs constricted, my brain shut down, and all of a sudden, I was home with Martin like it was yesterday. I thrashed, flailing my hands as my body screamed for oxygen. I slapped Taylor’s chest, scratched his face, and clawed his neck, kicking and squirming under his hold.
His thighs tightened around me, and I twisted and twisted, trapped. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. Tears filled my eyes as my pulse flooded my ears.
No, no, no…
He leaned down next to my ear. “I could be inside you in three seconds,” he whispered. “And I will be when—”
I pounded my fist, slamming it right into his jaw, and his head bobbed, his whole body going slack.
He loosened his hold just enough, and I pulled his hands off my face, sucking down air as I pushed him off me.
Scrambling to my feet, I spun around and backed away, seeing him sitting on the mat and holding his jaw, glaring at me.
But he wasn’t moving for me yet.
I pivoted, staring at Aydin. “Open the door,” I demanded.
He cocked his head but didn’t budge.
Spotting the bottle on the table, I snatched the hem of my shirt, tearing it at the seam and ripping off a chunk as I raced for the bottle.
Grabbing it, I stuffed the cloth in, backed up toward the door, and pulled out one of the matches from my pocket, dipping down to swipe the tip over the dry grout between the tiles.
I faced the room full of boys as blood dripped down from my eyebrow and the corner of my mouth.
I met Will’s eyes, hoping he noticed the symmetry in the Molotov cocktail. He knew this trick well.
“Stay back!” I ordered them, holding the bomb and the fuse.
Aydin still inched forward, drawing close. “You think I won’t handle you myself if I have to?”
“I think you want something from me, too, so…” I stated. “Better stay on my good side.”
He laughed. “Oh, phase two,” he mused. “Anger. I was so looking forward to this one.”
Instead of being worried I could burn down their entire shelter with this one bottle, he was excited. Taylor rose from the mat, all five of them facing me and moving toward me as I drifted down the hallway.
Was I really doing this? Leaving now? No food, no clothes, no help? He wasn’t backing off. They weren’t going to let me run.
Whatever I did, I had to do it now.
I lit the cloth, raised the bottle over my head, hearing the liquid slosh around inside, and they stopped, looking halfway between charging me or retreating.