Page 31 of Visions & Shadows

“Was it another dream?” he asks, his tone low and serious.

I nod, my cheek rubbing against his shirt.

“Want to talk about it?”

Reluctantly, I pull back and shake my head as I mutter, “It was about a stupid pillow and didn’t make any sense.”

“Let’s go inside,” he says. “It’s noisy out here.”

It’s a mission and a half making our way through the crowd of partygoers, but when we get back to the room, I realize we didn’t bring anything to drink.

“Damn, we forgot something to drink. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Ryan says while looking at the pictures I’ve drawn that are stuck to my wall.

I hurry back to the kitchen and grab two sodas. While heading to the stairs, I’m deep in thought about the weird dreams I’ve been having lately and the amazing hug I got from Ryan.

Just as I reach the top of the stairs, I’m suddenly grabbed from behind and hauled into Molly’s room.

“What the hell?” I gasp, my heart instantly beating faster from the shock.

Dropping the sodas, I try to pull away, but there’s no budging as the person instantly tightens his grip around my neck.

Panic flares hot through my veins when I realize I’m alone in Molly’s room with some guy.

“Let me go!” I hiss, trying to glance over my shoulder.

“Oh, come on, sweetling. How long are you going to keep up the act? After all, we’re almost family.”

Robert. Yuck.

I smell alcohol on his breath as it wafts into my hair and sticks to my skin. He’s the last person I want to deal with right now.

Robert spins me around and shoves me forcefully against the wall. I hit the back of my head, and the pain is sharp for a second.

“Asshole!” As I lift my hand to my head, the bastard grabs my wrists and pins them to the wall.

“Dammit, Robert,” I growl, in no mood to be bullied tonight. “Get your hands off me.”

“What if I say no?” he sneers.

He pulls me slightly away from the wall, only to slam me back against it. It hurts even more the second time around. I’m sure there are going to be bruises.

“Come on, sweetling. Show me the goods that have Ryan eating out of your hand.”

I swallow a whimper back, determined not to be weak in front of him, and I try twisting my wrists free from his brutal hold.

“I’ll t-tell Molly if you d-don’t let go of me.”

No! Why do I have to stutter in front of him? I haven’t stuttered in months.

“I’ll t-t-t-tell Molly,” he mimics me. “Tell Molly what, exactly?” His hot, sticky, drunken breath fills my nose, making my stomach turn.

He starts to force my hands above my head, and I fight back, trying to twist out of his grip. He’s too strong for me, and he pins both my hands with one of his above my head. The plaster digs into my skin from the force he’s using.

I squirm and try to yank free of his hold, but nothing helps. It only seems to excite him more.

“Stop!” I shout. His other hand moves down to my left hip, and I freeze as panic claws at my chest.

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