Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
“Side of the building by the pool,” I yell anyway, as loudly as I can. “Please, please, please, please, please.”
I kick back, hitting something — his shin, his foot? Whatever it is makes him grunt. Once we reach the side of the building, he pushes me to the ground, slaps me with the back of his hand, and straddles me. It’s not a hard slap, not hard enough to mark me, but hard enough to make me shut up. I don’t, though. I won’t. I thrash my head side to side, trying to find someone. The people in the event have to be outside or on their way out by now. I realize that we’re in a pocket on the other end of the building, and even if they do walk out back, they may not see us. It’s a golf area, I realize. Fuck, I need to get out of here.
“David, please,” I scream, my eyes tearing up as I beg. Somehow, I hold them back. “Please don’t do this.”
He’s struggling to hold me down and take his jacket off at the same time, glaring at me when I try to buck him off me. His expression is as menacing as it was that night, when he pinned me on my parents’ couch and I fought him. Up until the time before that, he was used to me being submissive, drinking whatever he gave me until I was unconscious and he could do whatever he wanted. That night, he’d told me that my fighting turned him on. A part of me wants to stop, but the survivor in me won’t let me.
“We have some unfinished business,” he seethes. “Don’t you think?”
I scream again, kick, and move my hips. I know they’ll come for me. I just need to hold him off until they do.
“If I could,” he says, setting a hand over my mouth again and holding me as still as he can with his body over mine. “I would take you somewhere and take my time with you, so you remember who the fuck owns you. Unfortunately, we don’t have time for that today.”
My chest rakes with the screams bottled up in it and the tears I know I won’t shed. Not for him. Not ever. He’s hard on my stomach, and I know nothing I do will make a difference. He starts to unbuckle his belt with the hand not covering my mouth. My chest is heaving as I continue to struggle. He’s having trouble with his fancy belt, so he lifts his hand from my mouth again.
“Nooooo,” I beg. “Please. Please don’t do this.” I scream again. “David! Don’t do this!”
“This is on you. You know what happened to the last little girl who stepped out of line?” he asks, cold and cynical. “She’s dead.”
My stomach heaves. I start to gag.
“You keep stepping out of line. I guess your mother's death wasn’t enough. Luke’s death wasn’t enough. Not even attacking your boyfriend,” he shouts. “Was enough.”
“Please,” I whimper as he starts lifting my dress, his hand rough on my thighs.
“You know, even though you’re not my first toy, you are the only one who was a virgin,” he says, eyes gleaming proudly as he pulls back so he’s lower on my legs, near my shins.
My chest heaves again, but I scream and use all my strength to lift my leg and kick him in the groin. He grunts loudly as he doubles over. I roll out from under him, push him away, and stand. My body trembles, threatened by the strong memories of the last time I found myself in this situation. I push through it. I cannot clam up right now. I can’t let him win. Not this time. I start running, cursing myself for choosing to wear heels with straps that I can’t just kick off.
I scream as I run. What’s taking them so fucking long? I hear him come up behind me. He’s fast. If I wasn’t wearing these fucking heels, I’m sure I could get away easily. I’m almost at the exit when my heel goes down into one of the holes in the ground. Strong arms wrap around me, and he lifts me, taking a few steps to the side wall of the building. He presses onto me, still hard in his pants, as he breathes harshly against my face. He brings his arm up, and for a moment, I flinch, thinking he’ll elbow me in the face. Instead, he sets his forearm against my chest so he’s blocking my arms from lifting and starts hiking up my dress. I scream again, as loud as my raw throat allows. When I go to shout the second time, a dry cough is what comes out. He brings a knee up and sets it between my legs, bringing it all the way up so I feel it. He’s still struggling with his belt.