Page 121 of Burn With Me

He starts to tug my pants down, pulling them enough to where he reaches in and cups between my thighs. I try to raise my head, searing pain shooting between my temples as I push at his hand while squeezing my legs together. “Don’t touch me!”

Chris slaps my hand away, tightening his hold on me as he says, “Maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll keep you afterward. If you beg me, I might just let you–”

A sharp knocking cuts him off, the sound of Scott’s voice ringing out loudly, “Ginny? It’s Scott, open up!”

Scott.

The only reason he’d be here is if Jackson sent him. Jackson knows. He’s trying to save me.

Chris growls above me as his head snaps in the direction of the front door. “Scott, hmm? Fucking the whole family now?”

“The cops have been called and are on their way! I suggest someone come to the door now before I kick the damn thing down!” Scott sounds tough, but I know he’s too weak to be able to take down our heavy door.

Praying that he really has called the cops, I push through the pain and start to struggle again. The weight of Chris’ body leaves mine for a moment, and I open my eyes just before his fist connects with my cheek, sending my head banging back into the floor.

My vision blurs, the image of Chris’ feet walking away from me as he heads to the entrance, going in and out. I fight to stay awake. The urge to go to sleep or roll over and throw up are both strong as I hear Chris open the door.

“Ginny isn’t here. Now, I’d appreciate it if you stopped making a commotion, Mr. Tailor,” Chris reprimands Scott.

“Ginny?” I hear Scott call out again, followed by the door banging against the wall.

“What the fuck? Get out of my house!” Chris yells. I hear footsteps, and then Scott’s polished chestnut Oxfords come into blurry view.

“Fuck, Ginny! I got you. It’s okay,” he says soothingly. Warm arms wrap around me, pulling me up gently while supporting my head, and I close my eyes.

Only for a moment. Just to rest them for a little while.

“Jackson’s on his way. So are the cops. You’re safe now,” he says quietly. Then, louder, he tells Chris, “You’re a fucking dead man.”

For a moment, I think I’m truly safe.

Then I hear Chris start to laugh.

It starts as a chuckle and grows into something that resembles an unhinged, maniacal lunatic. “She really has done a number on you guys, hasn’t she? That’s what she does, though, isn’t it, Guinevere? See, Mr. Tailor, she’s got a sickness inside her. I’ve had to deal with it almost all our lives. She pretends like she’s such an innocent little girl, but then she looks at you with her big blue eyes, and you just know there’s an evil little seductress in there waiting to be unleashed. Tell me, did she fuck you too?”

“You’re fucking sick, you know that?” Scott’s arms tighten around me, body tensing. “Shit,” he swears.

Cracking open my eyes, I can tell my left one, where Chris hit me, is swollen nearly shut. Out of the other, I see Chris leaning against the wall where the kitchen leads into the entryway, holding a gun.

When andwheredid he get a gun?

“That’s what she does, Scott. She gets in your head and rots your brain.” He taps the gun against his head before pointing it at us.

“You don’t want to do that, Christopher. Do you want to lose your license? You shoot either of us, and you’ll never work in the medical field again.” Scott tries to reason with him as he gently lays me back on the floor.

The few minutes of reprieve have chased my nausea away, and even though my head still hurts, I start trying to sit up. “Chris, this is crazy. Put the gun down.”

Chris swings it in my direction, then immediately back to Scott when he starts to stand—hands raised in surrender. “Listen, let Ginny and I leave, and we can forget this all ever happened.”

Chris’ dark eyes are nearly black as they dart back and forth between us. His hair hangs down into his eyes, a sneer on his face making him look like some sort of crazed demon. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“Let him go then.” Slowly, I rise to my feet, pulling mypants back up over my hips with one hand as I use the other to brace my weight against the wall. The cut from Chris’ ring earlier has split open further from the second time he hit me, rivulets of blood streaming down that side of my face, over my lips to drip onto the floor.

“Ginny—” Scott starts, but I cut him off.

“Let him go, and we can go home. Okay? We’ll go home to Beverly Woods. I’m sure Calvin and Christine would like that. And then after we can go wherever you want. I’ll do whatever you want, Chris. I promise. Just let Scott go.” It takes me so long to speak, heaving breaths through my nose and out of my mouth between words.

Partially because all I want is to fall back to the floor and go to sleep, but mostly because I’m trying to buy us time. Jackson must be close, and Scott said the cops were too.

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