Page 3 of Burn With Me

“Just fucking lay there and take it, Gin. Too bad you’re not old enough for me to fuck yet. Or I’d ruin your hairy snatch before I leave,” he grunts into my ear.

He’s careful not to go too fast so the bed doesn’t squeak. And his hand is pressed so hard over my mouth and nose that I struggle to breathe. His other hand grips my wrists so tightly that I’m sure there will be bruises I’ll have to hide.

Shutting my eyes tightly, I imagine a different body above me. A different boy whose name I don’t know and whose face is always blurry in my mind. A gentler touch–more experienced. The pressure between my legs grows, and with each passing second, the line blurs between what I know shouldn’t feel good and what does.

Maybe this will be the last straw, and I’ll finally tell Chris’ parents what he’s been doing to me for the last two and a half years.

Chris buries his face in my hair and grunts as his hips start to slow. The ache between my legs dies as he pushes up off ofme and looks down at my face. For a split second, he looks alarmed. Tears are streaming down my cheeks, and the straps to my night camisole have slipped down my shaking shoulders. My pajama pants have a wet spot on them that matches the one on his gray sweats, and I almost open my mouth to scream.

But I don’t.

Because soon he’ll be gone, and I’ll be free.

Age 17

For the first time since I stepped foot into the Calloway home, I’m witnessing Chris try desperately not to cry.

Tears line his eyes as he grips my jaw roughly, though not hard enough to leave bruises. His other hand wraps around my neck, forehead pressed hard against mine, pushing me into the wall as I claw at his hands.

“You fuckingbitch. You stupid fucking bitch. How could you do this to me?!”

His breath reeks of alcohol. It’s winter break of my senior year, and Chris’ parents are out of town because his dad has a conference to attend in Boston. I didn’t think Chris would come back this year because he hasn’t spent much time at home since he left for college.

Ever since that night in my room three years ago, he hasn’t touched me or touched himself in front of me. Part of me has always wondered what made him stop, but I never wanted to dwell on it. The fact that he stopped was all that mattered.

Imagine my surprise when he walked in the door five minutes ago. Drunk and very muchnotsupposed to be here.

He’d distanced himself from us–typical college boy behavior, according to his mother. Whatever the reason, I was glad for it. It took some time, but I started to come out of my shell with him gone.

I have friends now. Kids at school have stopped thinkingof me as his weird little foster sister. The boys have started to pay attention to me.

And suddenly, it hits me why Chris is so angry.

“It was supposed to bemine, Guinevere.MINE!And you went and gave it away like a dumb fucking whore!”

“Stop it! You’re hurting me! Let go of me, Chris!” My voice is shrill as my nails scratch at his flesh. But it doesn’t even phase him.

“How’d you let him do it, huh? Did you let him fuck you in the back seat of his truck? Or did he bring you to his house when his parents weren’t home and take his time with you in his bed?”

His grip tightens, and I whimper in pain, digging my nails into his hands. The air in my throat is cut off, blood rushing to my head as I struggle to breathe.

“Did you let him fuck you in the ass like a dirty little slut? Was it worth it? Did he make it good for you?” He slurs his words as he nuzzles my neck before speaking against my cheek. “Because you’ll never know what it’s like to be fucked again. Do you hear me? I am going to make sure no one ever so much asthinksthey can fuck you. And if you think I’m going to touch your filthy, tainted cunt now, you’re wrong. So tell me, was it worth it?”

Pushing off me, he drops his hands away from my body, and I crumple to the ground, gasping for air. One hand braces my weight on the floor as the other reaches up to gingerly touch my neck. My eyes raise, and I watch him from beneath my lashes as he paces the length of my bedroom, gripping his hair tightly.

“FUUUUUCK!” he shouts, causing me to jump.

Seconds later, his fingers tangle in my hair, yanking my head back as he shouts in my face, “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?!”

Find out that I gave my virginity to Timmy Rhodes. A sweet boy who doesn’t have a lot of friends and who I don’t find attractive. A boy who stumbled his way through the actand didn’t mind that my eyes were closed the whole time as I imagined that it wasmy strangerI was giving my innocence away to.

So that Chris couldn’t steal the only shred of it I had left.

“Let go of me!” My watery screams match his as I wonder how I let it get this far. There’s something sick and twisted in his mind, and any other foster home would have been better than letting this depraved man in front of me think heownsme.

His tears dry up as he looks down at me, and his lips twist in a grin. “You know, I probably would have lost interest once I fucked you.”

His hands pull my hair harder, contorting my neck at an uncomfortable angle. “Now? Now, I’m going to make your life a living hell, just like I promised I would when you walked into this house seven years ago. You’re a sickness, Ginny. A sickness that onlyIcan cure. But now? Now, I’m going to enjoy watching you rot.”

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