fucking finished with ye.’
At that moment, Dana realized, Patrick was too far gone and consumed by his own need for revenge. She was done for. With what breath she had left, she began to sob and begged him to stop.
‘Patrick, don’t. Let me go. I will talk about it outside, so I will. I promise I will think about it all again. I won’t go if ye don’t want me to. Please, just stop.’
He wasn’t listening to a word she said, and she felt consumed with horror as he thrust one hand up her skirt between her thighs and hurt her, his jagged fingernails stabbing into her flesh. Tears of pain flooded her eyes and she wanted to give up fighting, to give in and die, for him to be gone and the pain to be over. She could hardly breathe because of the weight of him, pushing against her with the full length of his legs and thrusting the hard bone of his pelvis into her soft belly. He was taller than she was and twice her size. She started to gasp for air as he forced the last breath out of her. She felt light-headed, and her head began to swim.
Pinning her to the wall with his forearm across her chest, Patrick fumbled with his free hand at his belt and trousers. Dana heard the leather belt slip as the buckle opened and it slid undone. His trousers fell to his knees and he pulled his langer clear of his oversized shorts before wrenching her skirt up and ripping the front of her knickers away. She knew the consequences of what he was about to do. At that moment she doubted she would leave the turf shed alive, convinced that Patrick would kill her once he had satisfied himself. Even if he didn’t, she was sure she would be pregnant at the very least, and bearing a child to a man like Patrick would be as good as being dead.
‘Oh, God, no.’ She began to cry. ‘What are you doing? Get off me.’
She let out one long, screeching wail, delivered by an overwhelming need to emerge from the ordeal alive. The future she had always dreamed of was at her fingertips, only days away. She no longer cared if anyone saw her. She was already someone. She was a girl from the villages who was leading the way for others. She was breaking free of the pattern of existence that had been the lot of girls like her for generations. Patrick swore again as he slammed his hand over her mouth.
‘Fucking shut it. Shut it,’ he hissed as he thrust himself against her. His knees jabbed into her thighs and she felt him, shockingly exposed, hard, wet and naked, jabbing, pushing his way further up her thigh, searching, grabbing at the flesh of her leg until she felt his dirty fingernails cutting into her skin once more.
He failed to find her. ‘You fucking witch,’ he hissed, forcing her legs apart with his knee until she thought she would split in two with the pain.
She bit into his hand, hard, her teeth ripping at his flesh. He pulled his hand away and she let out another terrified scream but still it didn’t stop him. She knew he was on the brink of violating the most private and precious part of her life. She had no defence, no way of protecting herself. She was trapped in the vice of his thighs, and as the fight left her she slipped down the wall. Her only thought was that Patrick was about to destroy her life and her dreams.
Suddenly, Patrick pulled away from her sharply, and for a moment she failed to understand what was happening. The shed filled with light and she became aware that the door was open and that Noel, her own daddy, stood in the centre of the room. In a split second, he had made complete sense of the entire scene.
Patrick didn’t know what had hit him as Noel Brogan lifted him by the back of his collar and ejected him from the shed. Dana heard the unmistakable snap of a bone as Patrick hit the ground outside. There was a scream, then Patrick’s sobs and her daddy’s swearing. The sound of the band and the dancing was louder and Dana almost wept in relief for small mercies. She knew a hail of blows must be raining down on
At that moment, Dana realized, Patrick was too far gone and consumed by his own need for revenge. She was done for. With what breath she had left, she began to sob and begged him to stop.
‘Patrick, don’t. Let me go. I will talk about it outside, so I will. I promise I will think about it all again. I won’t go if ye don’t want me to. Please, just stop.’
He wasn’t listening to a word she said, and she felt consumed with horror as he thrust one hand up her skirt between her thighs and hurt her, his jagged fingernails stabbing into her flesh. Tears of pain flooded her eyes and she wanted to give up fighting, to give in and die, for him to be gone and the pain to be over. She could hardly breathe because of the weight of him, pushing against her with the full length of his legs and thrusting the hard bone of his pelvis into her soft belly. He was taller than she was and twice her size. She started to gasp for air as he forced the last breath out of her. She felt light-headed, and her head began to swim.
Pinning her to the wall with his forearm across her chest, Patrick fumbled with his free hand at his belt and trousers. Dana heard the leather belt slip as the buckle opened and it slid undone. His trousers fell to his knees and he pulled his langer clear of his oversized shorts before wrenching her skirt up and ripping the front of her knickers away. She knew the consequences of what he was about to do. At that moment she doubted she would leave the turf shed alive, convinced that Patrick would kill her once he had satisfied himself. Even if he didn’t, she was sure she would be pregnant at the very least, and bearing a child to a man like Patrick would be as good as being dead.
‘Oh, God, no.’ She began to cry. ‘What are you doing? Get off me.’
She let out one long, screeching wail, delivered by an overwhelming need to emerge from the ordeal alive. The future she had always dreamed of was at her fingertips, only days away. She no longer cared if anyone saw her. She was already someone. She was a girl from the villages who was leading the way for others. She was breaking free of the pattern of existence that had been the lot of girls like her for generations. Patrick swore again as he slammed his hand over her mouth.
‘Fucking shut it. Shut it,’ he hissed as he thrust himself against her. His knees jabbed into her thighs and she felt him, shockingly exposed, hard, wet and naked, jabbing, pushing his way further up her thigh, searching, grabbing at the flesh of her leg until she felt his dirty fingernails cutting into her skin once more.
He failed to find her. ‘You fucking witch,’ he hissed, forcing her legs apart with his knee until she thought she would split in two with the pain.
She bit into his hand, hard, her teeth ripping at his flesh. He pulled his hand away and she let out another terrified scream but still it didn’t stop him. She knew he was on the brink of violating the most private and precious part of her life. She had no defence, no way of protecting herself. She was trapped in the vice of his thighs, and as the fight left her she slipped down the wall. Her only thought was that Patrick was about to destroy her life and her dreams.
Suddenly, Patrick pulled away from her sharply, and for a moment she failed to understand what was happening. The shed filled with light and she became aware that the door was open and that Noel, her own daddy, stood in the centre of the room. In a split second, he had made complete sense of the entire scene.
Patrick didn’t know what had hit him as Noel Brogan lifted him by the back of his collar and ejected him from the shed. Dana heard the unmistakable snap of a bone as Patrick hit the ground outside. There was a scream, then Patrick’s sobs and her daddy’s swearing. The sound of the band and the dancing was louder and Dana almost wept in relief for small mercies. She knew a hail of blows must be raining down on
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