Page 51 of Dash

“FUCK….!” he screams out, before he yanks his arm out of my hold. I spit out his blood when he places his hands on my back and shoves me forward, causing me to hit my front door face-first.

My body stumbles, and my already drunk self falls to the floor. I look up at him as he bends over holding his arm as he hisses in a breath. I take the second to find my way to my feet and run. I’m that stupid girl. The one who runs upstairs. The one who thinks that a second floor window is my only way of escape. But the thing is that I have more objects to protect myself with up there. That’s where my room is. That’s where I spend most of my time. I grab the banister and yank myself as I shove off the last step, needing all the help I can get as I pant from exhaustion. My head is yanked back, and I scream as my arms go flying. Before I can fall backward, causing us both to fall down the stairs, he shoves me to the side, causing me to hit the wall. I fall down to my knees on the stairs and brace my face. I taste blood. My blood. And I can barely hold my head up because the room is swaying so much. He jerks my hands away from my face, and I look up at him through heavy lashes.

“You are so fucking pathetic,” he growls. “You’ll let random men touch all over you but won’t give me what I deserve?” he demands.

“You don’t deserve me.” My voice is weak. Just as weak as my body.

“I don’t deserve you? I made you!” he screams.

I throw my head back and laugh. A laugh that makes my entire body shake. It’s the first true laugh he’s ever given me. I’m sure it makes me look hysterical. “Made me what?” I ask once my laughter starts to die. He stands over me breathing heavy with narrowed eyes. One hand grips the banister, and the other pushes against the wall. “You made me hate you is what you did,” I inform him. “I loved you.” I start to speak the truth as the nausea sets in. All this throwing me around, and the liquor is about to come up. “I gave you all of me, and you took advantage of it.”

He reaches out and slowly caresses my face. I don’t pull away, but I flinch from the contact. “I only did what you were afraid to ask.”

I gasp. “You think I wanted to be your play thing?” I ask in surprise. Does he truly think this way? “You think I wanted to be treated like crap? Not only did you use my body, but you also fucked with my brain.”

“A whore is a whore in all aspects,” he says simply, and my mouth drops.

“You sorry son of a bitch,” I scream. “You are nothing. Nothing but a piece of shit who uses women.”

“You make me sound like I’m the only one who has ever used you.” He gives me a cruel smile. “You think he didn’t use you?”

“Shut up.” I place my hands over my ears. He can’t talk about Dash. He doesn’t know about what we had.

He leans over and rips my hands from my ears. “I heard the way he used you that first night. How easily you begged him to fuck you. It was disgusting.” He spits in my face. “How easily you became a whore for him.”

“What?” How would he know what we did? “What are you talking about?” Is he referring to Dash’s party?

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t act so surprised. Of course, I was there.”

I shake my head. “You are one sick bastard,” I mumble, yanking my wrists from his grip. “I did. I gave him everything that you wanted.” I smile, and his eyes narrow on me. “And I’d do it all again. Maybe even let you watch…”

I feel the sting on the side of my face before my mind can comprehend what he even did. “You really think you can beat me?” he growls as he huffs. “After all I’ve done for you?” he shouts. “I was fucking nice to you. But now…now, I’m gonna show you what it’s really like to be someone’s bitch.”

I turn over onto my stomach and start to climb the last two steps when I feel his hand wrap around my ankle. I try to stand to run, but he pulls on my ankle and it causes me to fall back onto the stairs. I hit my chest hard on the steps, and it momentarily knocks the wind out of me. He grabs my hair and yanks my head back. I still haven’t caught my breath enough to even cry out. He shoves my head against the upper step, and I let out a moan of pain as I close my eyes. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just the pain, but I can literally feel my skin tear open on my forehead and then the blood running down my face. “Rodger…” The word slips from my swollen lip, and I suck in a deep breath. I don’t know what I plan on saying. Maybe beg for my life. But he would just get off on that.

He lays his body on top of mine, and it pushes me uncomfortably into the stairs. Fuck, I need to get us off these stairs. They’re gonna kill me. “Say my name again.” He breathes heavily into my ear from over my shoulder. “Beg me to forgive you.”

“Fuck you, Rodger,” I say before I spit blood onto the carpet.

I’m able to take a deep breath as he climbs off me.

He lets out a dark laugh as he grabs my ankle. He twists it to the point I scream out, and I have no choice but to turn on to my back. He yanks me down a few stairs, and I grit my teeth from crying out again as I feel the skin on my back scrape from the carpet on the stairs. I hate the fact that it pulls my dress up, exposing my legs and panties, but that’s the least of my worries. He’s going to kill me.

“I can play this game all day, sweetheart.”

I can’t. I already feel lightheaded and nauseous. If I don’t stop this now, I’m going get sick. And the bastard is twisted enough to drown me in it.

He drops my ankle as he looks down at me with a cocky smile on his face. “You always were fun to play with.”

“Go fuck yourself, Rodger,” I growl with hatred.

“You always had a filthy mouth,” he snarls. I look up at the ceiling and take a deep breath. I use my feet to shove him with all that I have, knowing that by pushing him backward down the stairs, he is gonna take me with him. I’m willing to take that chance.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

DASH

I slam the door to my parents’ house as I enter and look around at all the idiots who are still partying. I shouldn’t have come back to the party. I should have gone for a long ride. It helps clear my head, but I’ve been drinking. And I am the one throwing the party. It would be rude for me to leave my guests.

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