Page 156 of Wicked Dreams

“You’re the key to getting back at Caleb,” Ian muses. “I think he may even love you.”

It’s hard to breathe. Swallow. Panic claws at me.

Caleb Asher does not love me.

“It’s a game to him,” I wheeze.

Ian frowns.

If he wasn’t a maniac, he might even be handsome. He sure got Amelie’s attention.

“Please,” I mumble, finally bringing my hands up to his wrist.

He grunts, releasing me, and I slide to the ground. I cough and gulp in air. My fingers dig into the pine-needle-covered ground.

This seems familiar.

Déjà vu?

Ian squats next to me, grabbing my arm. He yanks it toward him, shoving my sleeve up. “Something to remember me by.”

He pulls out a permanent marker, biting the cap off, and writes a word across my forearm.

I watch in horror as he puts his teeth to my skin. He bites hard, and I cry out. The pain travels up my arm. It’s nothing like what Caleb has done to me. This is fear and disgust wrapped in one. The pain keeps coming, though, the harder he bites. Until he breaks the skin and blood drops past his lips.

He finally releases my arm, and I bring it in to my chest. My breathing is ragged, and I can’t seem to calm down.

His bite, the word he wrote, is more violating than I would’ve imagined.

“Who do you hate worse?” I can’t look at my arm, which has a pulse of its own, but I have the burning need to know what this is really about. “Me or Caleb?”

Ian sighs. “I don’t like you. But I think I really do hate Caleb Asher. With this… you’re the easier target. The button to push to make Caleb feel something other than self-righteous.” He lifts one shoulder. “Pity he wasn’t there to protect you this time.”

He stands, and something cold slides over his features. A mask that foretells something bad.

I have an instant to prepare before his foot snaps forward. He slams it into my stomach.

Pain and helplessness explode through me. I can’t describe how it feels. He kicks me twice more, and each time the air leaves my lungs without warning.

I cry out again and fall to the side. I wrap my arms around my middle, just trying to protect myself. I didn’t see this coming. Should I have? Did he give me warning signs?

Ian pushes me flat onto my back with that same foot. He leans over me, a scowl marring his face.

“I meant what I said before.” He raises his eyebrow, daring me to remember.

I don’t. There are so many awful things he’s said that I’ve pushed out of my mind.

“You’re nothing to anyone here. You’re a girl from a trash family, and you’re so fucking out of place. You should leave before someone worse comes along.”

I watch him walk away from my fetal position on the ground. I blink rapidly as the tears come once more.

I’m so fucking sick of crying.

I spit on my arm, scrubbing at it furiously, but it’s permanent marker. It holds fast. I can’t even see the word anymore, my vision is so blurry.

My throat burns. My arm throbs. My stomach is on fire.

I curl further into a ball, giving in to the misery rattling around my chest. A sob bursts out of me, the tears falling faster. They puddle in the crook of my eye and spill over, dripping to the dirt and pine needles my face is pressed to.

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