“Get the fuck off me!” I screamed, though it was little more than a gasp. “Help!” I screeched roughly, but it was too quiet. Too fucking quiet in an empty arena. I bucked my hips, scratching at his hands as he unbuckled his jeans and pulled out his dick.
No, no, no.
“Get off!” I gurgled, but his hand pressed tighter on my throat. The edges of my vision went black and he was going to strangle me completely. I was going to die. Tears were streaming down my face as my blows got weaker and weaker as my body struggled.
The door behind me slammed open.
“Help,” I whispered. I heard an enraged yell and then Junior was gone. I sucked in air, coughing as oxygen poured back into my lungs. I crawled to my knees scrabbling toward the corner. Someone was pounding Junior’s face into the ground, screaming obscenities.
Davi.
I couldn’t stop the wracking sobs that were consuming my body, but I rose to my feet, pulling on my underwear, stumbling toward them. “Davi stop. You’ll kill him!” I yelled, but he couldn’t hear me. Junior’s face was a bloody mess, but Davi wasn’t hearing me. I tugged hard, but I couldn’t move him. “Davi, please,” I begged, and then the door opened again. Miguel took in me, my battered face, my lack of pants and Davi slamming his fist into Junior over and over again. His face drained of color.
“Please,” I begged, and it snapped Miguel out of his shock. He leapt across the room, grabbing Davi and dragging him off a spluttering Junior. He was murmuring something in Portuguese, then he sent Davi out of the room. Davi paused in front of me, giving me a tortured look that was filled with regret, and then ran out of the room like the hounds of hell were on his heels. Miguel laid a hard kick into Junior’s side, making the man groan, and I swallowed hard. The pain in my throat was excruciating.
Miguel walked toward me, and I scurried back until my back was pressed against the wall. My heart was thundering and the sadness on Miguel’s face made me want to curl into a ball. “I’m not…” I started but I didn’t know what I was going to say. I’m not a victim? I’m not pathetic? I’m not okay?
Instead, I just shook my head. Miguel held up a hand, but didn’t try to come any closer.
“You are okay. You are a fighter. This cuzão is nothing. A coward. You will be okay. Davi is going to get Francisco. It will all be okay.”
Junior was making gurgling noises, blood spilling from his broken nose. Miguel got up and looked down at the beaten scum on the ground. I wouldn’t refer to him as a man ever again. He turned him onto his side with his boot, like he was dog shit that he wouldn’t touch with his hands. “Do not want this fucker to drown in his own filth. He is going to face God and these men for what he has done.”
The whole thing just replayed over and over in my head like a continual nightmare I couldn’t escape from until Frankie burst into the room, another Brazilian rider who wasn’t Davi with him. His feet slammed to a stop as he took in the scene, horror, pain, rage all flitting across his face until he came toward me, wrapped me in his arms and carried me out of that room. “Get Beau Larkin from the med tent,” he told the kid. “No one else, just Beau. We’ll be in the women’s bathrooms.” He carried me out into the hallway and quickly into the women's bathrooms beside them.
Out of the locker rooms I felt like I could breathe again. But with that breathing came the breakdown. My body shook with sobs and Frankie sat me down on the vanity and held me close to his chest.
“I have you, Querida. I have you,” he murmured into my head as my body shook with pain. My face ached, my throat ached and I just broke. Frankie was there to hold me together and wrapped in his arms, I felt as safe as I could. I don't think I’d ever feel completely safe again. The bathroom door burst open and I jumped, a scream passing my lips before I could swallow it back down.
Beau looked at me wildly, in front of me in steps. “Oh fuck, oh god, Tessa May,” he murmured, lifting his hand to touch my face but hesitating.
“Beau,” I whimpered, and that was enough. He grabbed me and pulled me into his arms, pressing me between the warmth of himself and Frankie. Beau just held me, wiping at my tears. He peeled me back a little and looked at my injuries. He touched the marks at my neck, my swollen eye. The swelling in my jaw.
He traced his fingers lightly along it, and I hissed. “Doesn’t feel broken but you probably need an x-ray on it and your cheekbone,” he said softly. “Are you struggling to breathe?”
I shook my head. “Hurts to swallow but I don’t… I don’t think he did any major damage. My ribs hurt.”
Beau swallowed hard, his eyes wide and filled with rage and despair in equal measures. “Did he, I mean, did he…”
“Did he rape you?” I hadn’t heard Branch enter the room, but he stood over near the door and if death had an expression, it would be Branch’s in that moment. He looked like murder.
“No, Davi got there in time.” Fuck, Davi. “Is Davi okay? Is he going to get in trouble?” I asked Frankie.
Frankie shook his head. “He ran into Juan trying to find me, and he came to find me and Davi went home. They’ll give him an alibi,” Frankie said softly.
I nodded, but looked at Branch. He stayed on the other side of the room, not coming any closer. Beau moved to the side so I had a clear view, and my eyes watered. “Branch.”
That one choked word undid us both. He was across the room and had me in his arms, my body wrapped around him so tightly that I didn’t think I could ever leave. I wanted to sink into the safety of him, the strength of him, and never let go. I buried my face in his neck and cried and cried. I couldn’t help it, as the adrenaline just poured out of me in fat, hot tears. “I couldn’t stop him. I tried but I couldn’t. Why couldn’t I stop him?”
Someone swore and I could hear the bathroom door crack. But Branch’s arms didn’t loosen. I clung to him like a baby koala and he held me solidly. He had me. He promised me he did, and in that moment, I believed him with all of my heart.
“I’m taking you back to the hotel,” he said. Beau said something about the cops and the hospital. I could feel Branch shaking his head, but Beau must have swayed him, because Frankie was helping me back into my jeans and putting my hat on my head. I felt better with it on. It was like armor. A helmet might protect me from the feet of a bull, but the hat protected me from the prying eyes of people.
It felt like an eternity passed, each one of them taking turns to hold me, before a cop and the event boss walked into the bathrooms.
The event boss wasn’t someone I knew, but he looked like everyone else in rodeo. Hat, boots, bolo tie. The cop was a detective in dress slacks and a white shirt rolled up his forearms. He had a hard face and grey at his temples. The guys barricaded me on all sides. They had my back.
“Miss Moore.”
I swallowed hard. “Everett. Tessa May Everett. T.M. Moore is just my name for when I ride,” I said softly, annoyed at how unsteady my voice was. I was stronger than this.
He gave me a soft smile, and something in me loosened. He believed me.
“Miss Everett. My name is Detective Kane. Can you tell me what happened? Or we can do this down at the station if you’d prefer?”