Page 89 of Shameless

I cry out when he squeezes my breast so hard that it hurts like hell. “Please, Evan, no.” I sob, wheezing as my struggling cause him to press on my windpipe.

His smile widens, his eyes dark, bottomless pits. “All I hear is yes. I know you’re doing this because you know I like it when you struggle. I was considering giving you a roofie, like I used to do with girls at school, but it ruins the experience if you can’t react. This is what has always made you different than any other girl, Lula. The way you fight me is everything. It makes me so fucking hard. There was no way I was gonna drug you and miss out on your cute little screams.”

He grinds his hips against me, his erection as hard as steel against my core.

Tears flow down my face when my body reacts with a jolt of sensation. I don’t want this and the feeling is an odd mixture of fear and the natural reaction of my nerve endings being stimulated.

It feels oddly like pleasure but there’s no pleasure in it, no desire.

I can’t escape his grip, so I go still.

Evan just said he enjoys it when I fight him. Maybe if I stop, he will too.

“What’s wrong with you?” he grunts, fumbling with his belt and using his weight to keep me pinned to the ground. “Why did you stop fighting?”

I blink, my eyes are so full of tears I can barely see. Good. I don’t want to look at him.

“Look at me, slut!” Evan yells, abandoning his belt and doubling his hold on my throat. “I know you’re just pretending you don’t want me. We’ve been playing this game since the day your mother brought you home. You were flirting with me and when I came to your room to cash in on all the promises in those pretty eyes of yours, you started to play hard to get. You even sent your boarding school friend to beat me up. I knew it was just a game. You wanted to make me work for it.”

I attempt to shake my head, but I can’t move with Evan’s hands around my neck. I have to use all my energy to keep breathing through his chokehold and with his weight on me.

“The game is over, Lula. It ends tonight. I’m going to fuck you in every single hole. So that every time one of your boyfriends touches you, you’ll remember who you really belong to.”

I close my eyes again. Maybe if I’m lucky enough, Evan will keep pressing on my throat and he’ll kill me before he gets to do what he’s planning.

“I SAID LOOK AT ME!”

His open palm comes down on my face and I feel nothing. The only reason why I know he hit me is the deafening noise his hand produces when he slaps me. I hear it louder than thunder, evenabove my labored breathing, and the roaring sound of my heart beating in my ears.

I hear it again and again, but maybe this isn’t Evan. It might be the fireworks outside.

“You fucking slut, look at me. You’re making me go soft and I have to take you now. I have to do it before my lawyer gives me that written agreement your boyfriends insisted on. Then I have to stay away from you and I’m someone who always keeps his word.”

Evan shifts his weight and lets go of my throat to grab my wrists. “Come on, slut, do something. Fight me or help me get hard again, so we can finish this once and for all.”

I keep my eyes closed but I can’t help the smile I feel forming on my lips. My plan worked. Evan is a monster and his obsession with me is fueled by my resistance. The second I stopped fighting him, the wind got taken out of his sails. Or more accurately, his blood migrated away from his cock.

A few moments later, his weight is completely gone and I open my eyes.

Evan is crouching at my feet, with his fly open, furiously slapping his flaccid dick. “Come on! We have to fuck her now. Our fucking honor depends on it.”

I know I should get away from him, run like the wind. I should find a crowded place where I’d be safe from Tiffany’s stepson.

I just need one more second to catch my breath. One more second.

If only my lungs would fill with air and my head stopped throbbing, then I could move.

Maybe if I lie on my side in the recovery position, that’ll help.

A ferocious growl, louder than my heartbeat forces me to open my eyes.

Am I hallucinating or did Napoleon just bite Evan’s balls?

My attacker is now laying on his side, the same way I was just a second ago, cupping his balls with both hands and screaming in pain.

“Naps,” I call Crew’s dog, managing to get up to my knees. “What are you doing here?”

Napoleon is barking furiously at me rather than at Evan. He keeps turning toward the spot where the boathouse door is slight ajar.

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