"Tony... my stomach... it hurts so bad... take me to the hospital..."
I grabbed at the leg of his trousers, my voice shaking.
Tony kicked my hand away and stood over me, looking down like I was nothing.
He bent down and slapped me across the face. Hard.
A high-pitched ringing filled my ears, and the taste of blood flooded my mouth.
"You're nothing but a vicious, scheming bitch!"
"You pushed Faith down the stairs, and now you're faking sick for sympathy?"
He pointed toward the front gate.
"You can kneel out in the rain and think about what you've done to her!"
He turned, walked inside, and slammed the door shut behind him.
A few minutes later, the garage door opened.
Tony pulled out in the car with Faith and her son, tires tearing through the mud, spraying filthy water in their wake.
I lay facedown in the mud, my vision going dark at the edges.
...
Hours later.
Tony pushed open the front door in high spirits, a limited-edition Transformers toy in each hand.
Let's see if she's ready to behave.
He kicked off his shoes and headed for the living room.
The house was dead silent.
He looked down. On the entryway rug, a trail of blood had spread in a dark, ugly stain.