Page 42 of Paper Thin Love

I glance down. He’s one leg down. I could try to run.

He inches his body forward until his hips press against mine, trapping me between his hard body and the sink.“No,” I whisper, a shocked gasp.“You don’t understand.”

He tilts his head, eyes cold and unyielding, like a vengeful god about to deny me entry to heaven.“I think I understand it perfectly, Mila.”

“You know nothing,” I hiss, a mix of fury and desperation in my voice as I struggle to free myself. My efforts only cause my hips to press more intimately against his. He takes a wider stance, ensuring I can’t escape his snare.

“I think I’m the only person who really knows you,” he says, his voice dangerously calm.

I brace my hands on his torso, my fingertips pressing hard into his warm shirt as I try to shove him away. He surprises me by dropping his crutch, balancing now on one leg. My heart races as his strong hand clamps down around my wrist, holding me in place.

I yank down, my panic escalating. He only chuckles.“Let me go.” I hiss.

His lips pull into a victorious smirk.“I think I’m getting to know you so well that it terrifies you.”

The fight drains from my muscles, but instead of releasing my wrist, he tightens his grip. It’s painful, yet there’s a twisted comfort in it, like he’s a parachute attached to me. I can’t escape his upward pull, his safety net. He’s not going to let me fall.

Chills cascade down my arm, reaching my faltering heart and reviving it as he slowly begins to sweep his thumb back and forth over my trembling wrist. It’s such a tender gesture from a literal monster holding me captive.

“You paint such a pretty picture of normal, perfect daddy’s daughter when inside you’re screaming through the suffocation that is your life!”

“Stop,” I plead, my voice cracking.Don’t cry. Don’t you dare let him have your tears!

He jerks my hand up high, placing it over his heart as my own wrist brushes over my nipples, causing them to stiffen. I’m stunned to feel it beating.“Then I came along, and I opened up an air pocket for you to breathe. That scares you, Mila.”

He adjusts my hand, spreading my fingers open to reveal the tiny droplet of blood from the needle.

Guilty as charged.

Slowly, he brings my index finger to his mouth, parts his full lips, and like a predator claiming his prize, he sucks my finger into his warm, wet mouth, tiny drop of blood and all.

“Dash!” I gasp, my voice cracking as I try to yank my hand away. It’s perverse! It’s disgusting! It’s... it’s... why does it feel like a turn-on? Not the blood, but the fact that he’s willing to push aside my disgrace so he can try to mend me.

“Dash,” I mutter, panic rising in my chest.Please stop because I’m too scared of the emotions consuming me.

The psycho bites down on my finger, his teeth pressing just hard enough to leave a mark without breaking the skin.“You want to feel pain, little fox,” he purrs. My knees start to buckle, threatening to give way.“Just ask me.” He grins around my finger before releasing it from his lips.

“You don’t understand,” I object, desperation lacing my voice as I jerk my hand free and clutch it to my chest.“I want control!”

Why did I admit that to him?

His hips still pin mine as he leans closer, his breath hot against my face.“You hurting yourself is the opposite of control, Mila.” His tone is scolding, each word a dagger piercing my resolve.“It shows you losing control, not able to fight, so you try to carve up your body to make a hole you can hide in instead.”

A tear slips free, followed by another, cascading down my cheeks. He watches them fall, his expression void of emotion, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside me.

“Why do you care?” I cry.“Just leave me alone. You don’t need me. You have your friends to help you.”

His lips curl into a sinister smirk.“Consider me your devil. You made a contract with me. I own your soul now.”

“You don’t need me!” I shout, my voice cracking with desperation.

“What I need is none of your concern. You made a deal. You will keep it.” He finally steps back, but when I inhale, the air is hot and thick, suffocating like a rainforest.“If I ever see you hurt yourself again,” he pauses, his gaze piercing,“I will make you suffer in ways you could never imagine. Do you understand, Mila?”

I look down at the box of medical supplies scattered on the locker room floor, my vision blurring with tears.

“Mila?” His voice is sharp, demanding my attention.

There are rare moments when I think there is good in Dash King. Like he actually cares about me.

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