Page 133 of Vicious Sentiments

He reels and grabs my arm, yanking me against him. “Do I need to fuck you so you believe me?”

My stomach rolls and my heart pounds as he shakes me. I suddenly can’t see anything but Kyle and I know with every fiber of my being where this is going.

“Don’t,” I try but it comes out breathy and garbled.

“Margo doesn’t want me so maybe I should try someone more my age.” He laughs, and tears pool in my eyes as he shoves me down.

The air is stuck in my throat as he pulls at the waistband of his pants and jams a knee between my legs. I squeeze my eyes shut before he frees himself. I don’t need to see. It’s better if I don’t see. Because this isn’t happening, right? Cape is going to appear and throw Dillon off of me. Or Dillon is going to come to his senses. Anything but this.

“This is the shit you like, right?” He pins my wrist into the sand. “Being taken advantage of? It’s the only reason you would side with them right? Because you like being fucked?”

I should scream. Someone might hear me. But my mouth is sealed shut, Mr. Canes invisible hand clamped over it. It will only be rougher if I scream.

He digs his fingers into the band of my pants, his nails nicking the skin, and I pray for numbness. It’s the only thing I ever had to protect myself and now trying to recall it feels futile.

If anything, everything I buried comes crawling back to the surface. Mr. Canes hand over my mouth as I struggled to breathe through the pain. The way his bulging stomach flattened my chest and how his sweaty hairs scraped against my skin.

The noxious taste of gasoline as Kyle pushed his fingers into my mouth, getting off on me gagging as he scratched at my throat. His bony hips bruising my inner thighs.

The way Julian laid him out.

The last image comes suddenly, and my throat opens just a bit. I drag cold air into my lungs and blink away my tears. Julian didn’t hesitate throwing the palm of his hand into Kyle’s nose.

The crunch and flush of blood.

Picturing it lets me breathe a little better. This is Dillon, not Kyle. I’m not in Bridgerock. And I don’t want this. I don’t want to take this.

“Stop,” I say.

Dillon doesn’t even hear me as pulls at my pants. He grunts when he sees my underwear and scrambles to grab at them.

“Stop,” I try again, louder this time.

He pauses for a second and cocks his head at me.

“So much for all those hours training with Cape.” He sneers and tightens his grip.

Cape.

Cape throwing me on the ground.

Cape yelling at me to get leverage.

To survive.

To fight.

I pull one of my legs up, trying to get said leverage, but it makes Dillon angrier and he slams it down. My foot slides in the sandwithout a fight.

I’m not strong enough. God, he’s right. I didn’t learn anything with Cape. I couldn’t beat him even when he was letting me. I panic and thrash, fear bubbling up inside me. In doing so, I accidentally catch a glimpse of Dillon’s dick and… It’s so small. The sight gives me pause. It looks the same as Mr. Canes. Nothing like Cape’s or Julian’s.

And it occurs to me that I may not have been strong enough to fight Cape, because Cape is a beast of a man, but Dillon isn’t as strong as Cape. Dillon isn’t anywhere near as big as Cape, in more ways than one.

I pull my knee up again and quickly dig my heel into the sand.

“Fucking relax. You’re going to let both of them fuck you but what? I’m not good enough? I don’t think so.” He goes to put my leg down again but this time I’m ready, and it doesn’t go down.

I take his tiny moment of confusion as the distraction I need and bring up my arm. I angle the back of my elbow as close to my throat as possible and then let it rip.

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