Page 87 of Crave Me

I curl up into a ball, holding my backpack close as I try to stay as small as possible. I huddle closer to the plastic panel on the side of the trailer. Mr. Cain searches everywhere for me.

His footsteps crunch on the gravel driveway. He’s been looking for me for a while, and I know the longer I hide, the worse the punishment will be. He expected me home afterschool today. I hate Wednesdays and being home so much earlier than everyone else. Once he figured out my schedule, his torment shifted from only at night to Wednesday afternoons. If I can just hide long enough the other kids will get home. He never tries to touch me when others are home and awake.

“I know you’re out here, you little whore. Come give Daddy what he wants.”

Bile turns in my stomach, and I do everything I can to keep it down. I want to take a razor blade to my skin, peel off everywhere he’s defiled and touched. I hate him. I hate what he’s taken from me. What he’s stolen and claimed as his own.

His footsteps crunch closer and I start to panic, caught between fight and flight again, stuck frozen in the in-between, when his hand reaches out and grabs a fistful of my hair. My hands reach up and cover his, trying to break him free as I’m dragged out of my hiding spot and across the rocky gravel.

“Bad girl, Blaire. It’s not nice to hide from your daddy when he needs something from you. Time to pay your dues.”

He yanks me harder, and I bite my lip to stifle the scream that wants to escape me. I know that if I bring attention to us, it will only make it worse. Even if someone heard me, even if they saw, no one here in this shitty trailer park would do a thing to stop it. I struggle to gain my footing, trying to stand and walk, but his grip is too hard, my hair ripping brutally from my head.

My body thumps hard on each of the crumbling wooden steps as he drags me up them. The door is pushed open and I’m thrown through it. I feel the moment a handful of hair is ripped from my scalp. A scream rips from my throat, and I instantly regret it as his booted foot connects with my stomach.

“You stupid girl. You’ll never learn. Don’t worry. Daddy’s here to teach you a lesson.”

He climbs on top of me, pinning me down and shoving the side of my face into the cat-piss-stained carpet. I dry heave,gasping for air and gagging, my stomach trying to purge something that’s not there due to the lack of food.

He leans down, his greasy, acne-scarred face rubbing back and forth over my cheek as he smells me, licking up the side of my face. I try to push myself further into the floor, the alternative worse than whatever else has soaked into the threadbare carpet. My eyes squeeze shut, bracing for what’s to come and going to the place that keeps me safe. Somewhere far from this hell. Somewhere with someone who loves me and chases all the evil away.

“FUCK!” I jerk from my sleep, sitting up straight, nausea rolling through me. I place my hand over my heart and take a few deep breaths, calming myself down. He can’t hurt me anymore, I remind myself. His face in the crowd of people visiting the distillery flashes behind my eyes.

After convincing myself that I’ve seen Andrew in Aspen Ridge, and now another nightmare, I open up my laptop and do the one thing I’ve been avoiding out of fear. I pull up the Washington State Department of Corrections website and enter the information for an incarcerated data search, needing to know for sure whether or not he’s still locked up. His information loads and my heart plummets into my stomach, my mouth dropping open as nerves hold me hostage.

Released.

He’s out.

Grabbing my phone, I call Dallas. I wait while the call is connected, but then it goes straight to voicemail. I end the call without leaving a message. My heart sinks further, stomach acid churning and bile rising. I run to the bathroom and flip up the lid, emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet.

Laying terrified and exhausted on my tiled bathroom floor, I don’t let myself cry this time. I know Dallas would have answered if he hadn’t passed out drunk and I can’t blame him for that. But part of my heart hurts that I can’t hear his voice when it’s all I want in this moment.

I pick myself up off the floor and rinse out my mouth before brushing my teeth. Crawling into bed on shaking limbs, I cover myself the way I always do, buried heavily under blankets, cocooning them around me and letting sleep take me, knowing full well what will haunt me once it does.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Blaire

The chilly air nips at my cheeks as I walk out into the early winter morning, exhaustion plaguing my entire body. I take a deep breath of it, filling my lungs with the crisp, fresh feeling that is like a balm for my already shot nerves. My drive to the distillery is calm and serene, the sun struggling to break through the thick blankets of clouds, casting a glow over the snow-covered trees. I’m so deeply in love with this town and the people who live here, I can’t imagine ever leaving. But if Andrew is out of prison and has found me? If he wants vengeance for getting him locked up? I have to run. I can’t prove that the man I saw at the distillery was him, but it’s too much of a coincidence not to be.

I pull into the distillery and drive around back to the staff parking lot. As I’m stepping out of my car, Dallas appears in front of me from out of nowhere, causing me to jump back and yelp, my hand flying to my chest.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Will you quit scaring me!”

“Never. Why are you so jumpy?”

“Because you popped up like freaking Michael Myers, you creep. Welcome home. Wait, how are you home so early?”

My body hums to life with him this close to me but I’m keenly aware of our proximity to everyone else. It takes everything I have not to jump him and lean into his big chest. I’m desperate to feel his arms around me.

“Sawyer couldn’t stand to be away from Ivy any longer. Woke us up to get on the road and drove straight through, just got back. Follow me.”

He takes a few steps away from me, heading to a large warehouse that I’ve never been inside, next to the parking lot.

“Where are we going, Dallas? I have work to do and people will be showing up for the first tour at ten,” I say as I look down at the watch around my wrist.

“I fucking missed you and if I don’t get inside you right now, I’m going to haul you out of here like a caveman.”

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