Brad’s palm collides with Eli’s shoulder. It’s just a shove, but Eli’s so small, it sends him sprawling on the carpet on the otherside of the room.
“Let me go!” I scream, completely unhinged. “You hurt him, you piece of s**t! Let me go to him!”
Eli starts crying. It pulls at something primal inside me. Call it mother’s instinct, call it desperation.
I claw at Brad with all my strength—
—and four red gashes open on the left side of his face.
It’s grotesque. Like a lioness took a swipe at him and didn’t miss. I had no idea I was capable of such viciousness, suchbrutality.
I search for regret, but I don’t find it.
Brad is clutching his face now. I realize there’s caked blood there, bruises I didn’t make. A huge Band-Aid on his nose. Whendid that happen? Was it a
