Page 8 of The Secrets of a Sin

“Touch me.” I demand, most likely regretting the words but when I feel a finger brush my clit, I lose it. My body ignites and so does his, and were both groaning loudly, not caring that the whole school could hear.

“Come on me, Char.” He growls as his finger swirls around my bud and his dick barrels through me. Gripping his shoulders, I ground myself onto him and with one last thrust, I’m coming in a fit of hysterics.

“Fuck!” I cry out as my eyes wet with tears and my orgasm crashes through me like a tidal wave. Then seconds later, he holds himself inside me on a deep groan as he comes. He squeezes me hard as he comes down from the high, then slowly drops me onto my feet. We're both silent as I reach for my clothes and start to dress. I have no words to say to him anyway.

“Here.” He grabs my hand and places something inside it, and when I run my fingers over it, I notice it’s cash.

“What’s this for?” I snap, already thinking of what asshole thing he’s going to say.

“Plan B. Last thing I need is you getting pregnant.”

My stomach drops, and I instantly feel like shit.

What the hell did I just do?

“I hate you.” I cry out softly, glad I couldn’t see his face.

“I hate you too.” He says harshly before storming out of the closet, leaving me there alone.

I hate me too.

2

CHARLOTTE

My body jolted awake as the dream felt all too real. It was a day I’d regret for the rest of my life. It was a turning point for me-an eye opener to the fact that I was sick.

Twisted even.

And sadly, my family thought the same.

Wiping away at the tear that was falling down my cheek, I peer at my alarm clock that reads 4:30 a.m. and throw my legs off the bed until I’m sitting up. With a yawn, I stand and walk over to my drawers and pull out a pair of leggings and a tank top and quickly pull them on until I’m fully dressed. My hair was in a mess of waves after falling asleep with it in a bun, so I redo it until it’s tightly secured on the top of my head. Once I’m dressed for my daily run, I throw on a pair of socks, step into my Nikes and rush out the door. The halls are dark and dingy but a small lantern on the wall lights my way until I reach the door that leads me outside. The cool breeze hits my skin, but I know once I’m running, I’ll be warmed up. My pace starts out slow as I jog down the side of the dorm building, pacing myself so I don’t get gassed too quickly. I was never a runner until I came here. Now it’s something I can’t live without.

Running was my escape. It made me feel powerful in life, like I was actually succeeding in something. It was my cure for everything.

With steady breathing, I could feel a thin film of sweat form on my neck the further and further I ran. Passing the entrance of the school, I make a detour down the middle and head for the courtyard. A small burst of energy hits me, and I dart off. Sprinting as fast as I can down the sidewalk, I thrust my legs out in front of me until my legs burn. The statue of the Archangel was my stopping point and, when I made it there, my heart was pumping at a turbulent pace. Hunched over, I was gasping for breath. Breathing in and out, I spin my body around to find somewhere to sit down but something catches my eye in the middle of the courtyard. It was still dark out, so it was hard to make out. With a few steps closer, my breathing paused.

My eyes grew fuzzy taking in the scene before me. I had to be dreaming, there was no way this was real. Pinching the skin on my forearm, I hope to wake from this terrible nightmare, but nothing changes. I’m still standing here-staring at an unmoving body in the center of the courtyard.

As I take a few hesitant steps forward, my footsteps immediately come to a crashing halt.

Blood.

So much fucking blood.

Nausea claws at my stomach as I stagger closer to the lifeless body. With each step, my heart climbs to a rapid pace that causes my knees to buckle and smack the pavement beneath me. My hands catch my fall, but my breathing turns erratic. In and out, I’m gasping for air as I’m now only a couple feet away from the dead body in front of me.

Relax, Char.

Take deep breaths.

My legs feel too weak to stand, so instead I start to crawl towards her. As my palms smack the rough ground beneath me, I every now and then feel something wet connect with my palms. I silently tell myself I’m not trailing through her blood and keep my head held high. My throat clogs with anguish every time my hand dampens, but I hold it together and continue crawling. Once I’m in arms reach, I stop just beside her head that’s tilted in the opposite direction of me. Lifting on my knees, my eyes rake up her small body. An off-white nightgown covers her form loosely, while the bottom ruffles out just above her bare feet.

Why isn’t she wearing shoes?

Moving my stare up her torso, a burst of queasiness attacks my stomach as I come across a pool of blood that engulfs her whole chest. My hand flies up to cover my mouth, but I’m already dry heaving.

Nothing comes out, but tears burn my eyes as I force myself to migrate up her neck and to her face. But the minute I catch a glimpse of dark curly hair... my stomach sinks.

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