Page 89 of Possess Me! (I Want You To)

Betty

What’s your favorite cake flavor?

Me

Chocolate

Betty

Great. I’ll make vanilla. *middle finger emoji*

Glad you’re alive btw

The knocking got louder and I rolled my eyes heavenward as I shoved the door open, still staring down at Betty’s last message. “You don’t even need to use the bathroom, you—”

My back met the wall. My phone flew out of my hand, skittering across the gravel as a fist smashed hard into the side of my head, and I plummeted to the ground with a dazed thud. There was a ringing sound in my ears that drowned out the rest of the world as I stared blearily up at the stout man looming over me.

He definitely was not Prudence. Too tall. Too thick. His dark eyes were hidden in shadow, as the sun blared from above. My head was pounding, my heart racing as I scrambled backward toward my no doubt shattered phone.

At first I didn’t recognize him.

But then I did.

The guy.

The one Prudence had imitated at the hotel. The guy from the club. The one I’d slipped my hand into the back pocket of and—

He grabbed me by the hair, and it hurt. It hurt so fucking bad a baffled little wail left my lips as he jerked me around and I felt his big hand pawing at my ass. Oh, shit. Fuck. No.

This wasn’t like when Prudence manhandled me. There was no pleasure to accompany the pain, only fear, so visceral I could hardly think.

I peeked over my shoulder, terrified. He pulled the wallet I’d stolen out, and I sagged in relief, now that I knew what he’d actually been after. Belatedly I realized how fucking stupid we’d been to think we could get away with this at all.

My attacker’s eyes gleamed as he sat down on top of my back, squashing me into the rocks. He was heavy enough the breath left me in a distressed woosh and I gasped, scratching at the ground, my protests futile.

Card after card smacked against the back of my head as he towered over me, the sun blocked out by his massive shape. He stopped when he finally found what he wanted. Blearily, I stared at him till recognition hit and adrenaline began coursing through my veins the moment I realized he was holding up his own driver’s license. He glared down at me, teeth bared.

And then he spoke—

“I knew it was you, you thieving pink-haired fucker.” The man’s words were twisted with fury, so different from the way he’d crooned into my ear as he’d caressed the hickeys Prudence had left around my neck the night before.

I was so fucking fucked it wasn’t even funny.

Where was Prudence?

Goddamn it. I needed my murder ghost—like—yesterday.

I didn’t respond, and douchebag obviously didn’t like that. Because another blow met the back of my head, and I was spinning, spinning, spinning, spitting gravel out of my mouth as a muffled gasp left my lips. He hauled me to my feet, and I was too dazed to do much more than scratch at him as he latched his hands around my wrists and hauled me toward a red car parked a few yards away.

That definitely hadn’t been there when I’d gone into the bathroom.

Had he been following me?

I swallowed back bile.

I’d seen enough True Crime to know if I got in that car I might as well be dead. I kicked at his legs, struggling with newfound strength, my sweaty hair poking my eyes as I swore.

“You and your nasty little boyfriend think you can steal from me?” He chuckled, talking to himself like I wasn’t even there. “Let’s see how he feels, when I steal you.” He laughed again, a short barking sort of sound. Manic.

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