Page 33 of As Devils Love

“Trying to call Daddy?” Tomas pats a hand along the wall in search of the light switch. He flicks it on, and the sudden beam of bright white light leaves me blinded. “He won’t help you; you know?”

Just as Tomas says it, an automated voice comes from my cellphone. “You have reached the voice mail box of—” it reads father’s number, “please leave a message after the tone.”

Not much good it’s going to do me tonight, but at least I’ll have Tomas on a recording talking shit about his boss. Tomas fumbles his way toward my bed, and as my eyes adjust to the bright lights, I realize how completely drunk he really is. He can barely walk straight without his upper half swaying. His eyes aren’t narrow out of what I originally perceived as fury, but because they’re too heavy to stay open.

“What do you want, Tomas?” I repeat my question.

“To see what all the ruckus is about.” Tomas stops at the foot of my bed.

“There was noruckus. You’re hearing thin—”

Tomas rolls his eyes and grabs my duvet. “Then this shouldn’t be a problem,” he says, before pulling it off my body with force.

I recoil as far away from him as I can and grab the pillow under my head to place against my lower body as a barrier to his sickening gaze. Making myself a tiny ball against my headboard isn’t going to do much to stop him, but at least it stops his wild eyes from seeing something I don’t want him to.

Now, his eyes are moving. They range from my face to my shirted chest and finally to my legs which are clinging to the pillow for dear life.

“A wet spot on the bed?” Tomas snickers as his inspection reaches my sheets.

A wet spot left by my jewel-eyed monster’s touch, and all the fuel Tomas needs to go on with whatever nightmare he has in store for me.

“Either you pissed yourself, or you lied to me. Which is it?” He’s serious now, and his brows furrow in annoyance above his heavy eyes.

“Get out of my room,” I shout, realizing that nothing’s going to change if I stay feeble and weak. That’s a surefire way of landing in a position I can’t come back from. At least, fighting will at least give me a chance of walking away from this unharmed.

“That’s what I thought, you dirty slut.” A sickening smirk forms on Tomas’s face, and he presses a knee onto the bed. “Don’t let me stop you. Show me what you were doing.”

He stretches an arm out and his fingers brush against my ankle. Fear claws at my chest over what’s about to come. I can shout and scream, but I can’t stop him from doing whatever he’s going to do. And although Father will get revenge on my behalftomorrow, there’s not much comfort in that while I have to endure Tomas’s touch.

“Don’t touch me,” I roar, as hot tears start to well in my eyes.

But Tomas shrugs off my plea, allowing his fingers to travel up my leg. My stomach churns when his greasy hand crosses my knee. His eyes stare directly at my center, where my legs refuse to part from the pillow that’s stuck between them. I won’t give him the satisfaction; he’ll have to steal it from me.

“Smooth like silk,” Tomas shivers as he indulges in stroking my bare skin. “Is it the same all the way up?”

I want to scream. To kick my legs at him wildly to stop the inevitable. I want to launch myself off my bed and sprint for the door. Run away and never look back.

But I can’t.

My body is frozen in place. I’m trapped in the cataclysmic fear of Tomas’ taking advantage of me.

His free hand joins the other. They both settle on opposite thighs, before his calloused fingers dig into my flesh. Not hard enough to hurt, but the intention is evident.

“You might as well give it to me now, Fiametta,” Tomas says, in a cold, husky whisper. “It’s going to happen whether you like it or not. It’s just a matter of timing.”

What is that supposed to mean?

“So spread ‘em. Let me see what’s rightfully mine. Have a touch and a taste. Help you finish what you started.” He starts pulling his arms apart. Not with enough force to spread my legs, but this sick monster is enjoying this too much to rush.

With a whimper, the first tears start to fall down my cheeks. As much as I want to believe I can get away from this, I can’t. He’s too big, too strong and too mean for me to fight him off.

That doesn’t mean I’m going to give in completely. Weeping or not, I’m going to keep myself pinned down as best I can.

But, before Tomas has the chance to force my legs apart any further, a knock comes at my front door. It’s a loud, panicked banging that I haven’t heard before.

“Tomas,” a voice booms so loudly from the other side, that I could swear whoever shouted the name was in my bedroom. “You need to get out of here. NOW!”

“What bullshit.” Tomas hisses. And while he seethes at the thought of his fun being cut short, he digs his fingers into my skin until it starts to hurt so bad, my legs start feeling numb. “Don’t think I’m finished with you, Fia.”

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