Page 81 of The Puck Player

That’s weird. Why can’t I move?

Footsteps echo as they pound up the stairs and down the hall toward me. I try to focus my gaze, but my vision is still blurred and sickness churns in the pit of my stomach, as someone pushes into my room. They walk over to my bedside table and place something heavy on top of it. A rough hand swipes down my face and I want to recoil from the touch for some reason, but I can’t.

Something’s not right.

I blink a few more times and the hand pauses, pushing my hair back away from my head. “Wakey wakey, pretty girl,” a familiar voice coos, and if I had full control of my body I would probably flinch, because that’s not the voice I expected.

It’s not my mother’s voice, yet it’s familiar, but it doesn’t make me feel better, because it’s the last voice I want to hear. He’s not supposed to be here.I’mnot supposed to be here. So what the hell happened?

It’s only then that everything starts to come back to me and panic sets in. This isn’t right, I shouldn’t be here. This isn’t my home anymore.

My eyes slowly come into focus to find Ben staring down at me, with a smile I’ve never seen before, and when I flick my stare around, I find exactly what I thought. It’s my room, except it’s not my room, not anymore. The purple walls are more faded than what I remember, and my posters and pictures no longer litter the walls like they once did. I force my head to the side and find my furniture covered in dust sheets, with the exception of my bed and nightstand, and my head thuds with confusion.

“Ben?” I choke out, my throat hoarse and dry, and he smiles at me as if things between us are completely normal. “What areyou doing? Why am I here?” I try to move but my limbs feel heavy and awkward, and I fight to remember how I got here.

The last thing I remember is being at the hockey game, and my eyes automatically flick down, but instead of finding Alexander’s jersey, I have been stripped down to my tank top and underwear. Bile burns the back of my throat as my eyes snap back to Ben, who is still watching me, smiling.

“You’re here because you seem to have forgotten who you belong to,” he purrs, stroking my face, and I try to snap my head away, but my body just will not do what I want it to do.

“Get off me,” I scoff, desperate for him not to touch me, but my words only have him tightening his hold on my cheeks, and I try to fight against him.

“Now now, pretty girl, let’s not fight, not when tonight is our special night,” he grits, forcing my head to the side, and I find a large vase sitting on top of my night stand filled with daisies. “We’re going to get back on track, and we’re going to do it right this time,” he adds, loosening his grip and stroking my face again. “We just have to get you clean first.”

His last words don’t register, not until he pushes off the bed and moves to my dresser against the back wall. It’s still covered in one of the dust sheets my dad placed there when I moved out, but now sitting on top of it is a large bowl and some white towels. It’s only when he reaches it and picks up one of the towels, placing it into the bowl, that I realize it’s filled with water. Once he has it soaked through, he turns and makes his way back over to me.

“You let him touch you, didn’t you, Bree?” he hisses, some anger lacing his tone, as he reaches me and forcibly parts my legs. “You that let pathetic, rich prick treat you like you were nothing but one of his whores, and now I must rid you of your transgressions.”

I will my body to move, as he brings the towel to the top of my thigh and starts wiping it down my leg, but it’s no use.Fuck. Did he drug me? Is that why I can’t move?Nausea still turns my stomach over and over, as tears gather at the back of my eyes. No, he can’t do this, not like this, not here.

I know I shouldn’t rile him up, but I know him better than he thinks, maybe if I just keep him talking then I can buy some time.

“Yeah? How many Hail Mary’s did you do after you fucked Malorie?” I ask, making him freeze in his movements, his eyes snapping up to meet mine. “How many times did you fuck her? Once, twice, a hundred?” I force out, licking my lips. “It was you who forgot who you belonged to, it was you who cheated, you who fucked my best friend,” I snap, in an attempt to stall him, watching as he starts to shake his head. “And what? You think bringing me daisies and cleansing me is going to change that?” My voice shakes as I ask him that, but I know it’s working because he pushes up off the bed.

“I made a mistake,” he yells, pacing back and forth. “God forgives me, and you will too,” he adds, moving back to the bowl and drenching the towel in water again. When he comes back to me this time, I try to move again, my legs a heavy weight, but he just presses them down and starts wiping them clean. “We are starting fresh and taking our relationship to the next level,” he insists, roughly passing the towel over my skin, and the first tear falls on my cheek at the realization of how helpless I am.

I know Alexander will be looking for me, he’s probably tearing Fairfield apart trying to find me. I know that, I know him, but he won’t look here. Why would he?

Ben continues to move back and forth, dipping the towel in lukewarm water and gliding it over my skin, and it isn’t until he lifts my hand that he pauses. I’m confused at first, wondering why he’s stopped, but then I see his focus move to my middlefinger.My empty middle finger. His fingers tighten around my wrist until I gasp in pain, but it doesn’t faze him in the slightest.

“Where is your ring, Bree?” he asks carefully, his eyes slowly moving to meet mine, but I remain silent, because the look in his eyes right now is darker than I have ever seen. “Where is it?” he screams, dragging me up by my wrists and gripping me by the hair. A sharp pain spreads through my scalp, and I cry out once more. “Tell me where it is,” he spits, his breath warm on my face, and I know how this is going to end.

It’s why I smile a little, as I whisper, “The rich prick took it before I let him fuck me.” His hand pulls back and whips my cheek, sending my head to the side with the force of it. More tears spill down my face as pain ricochets through me, but I swallow down my cry. “Do you feel like a man now? Does putting your hands on me make you feel worthy?” I taunt, and he raises his hand again and I flinch back, making him freeze.

A metallic taste leaks into my mouth and I lick my lips, tracing the blood now trickling there, as his hand once again grips my cheek. “If you can be a whore for him, you can be a whore for me,” he spits, forcing his mouth against mine and kissing me roughly.

I try to fight him off but it’s no use, my body is too tired, too weak, and as he presses me down back into the bed. I pray. Not to god, but to Alexander, because I know he will come for me, it’s just going to be too late when he does.

Ben trails his mouth down my neck, licking and sucking my skin into his mouth as he goes, and nothing has ever felt more wrong. His hands roam my body, stroking my skin and spreading my legs so he can settle between them, and I let my eyes focus on a little crack in the ceiling. His touch feels nothing like Alexander's, and I can’t believe I ever let myself think I loved him, that he was the one for me.

His hands squeeze my breasts, as more sobs begin to wrack my body. “Please, Ben, don’t do this,” I beg, but his face settles into a sneer, as he pulls back and looks down at me.

“I should have done this ages ago, kept you quiet and in line like I did with Malorie. She was good for me, did as she was told, and you will too.” He unbuckles his pants, flicking open the button and sliding down the zipper as he watches me. “You let him break you in, so at least I won’t have to be gentle,” he adds, pulling out his already hard cock and fisting it at the base.

“You’re going to rot in hell for this,” I seethe, trying to force myself to relax, but Ben only laughs, jerking himself roughly.

“Then I’ll see you there, pretty girl,” he replies with glee, releasing his cock and pulling down my underwear.

Vomit floods my mouth, as more tears fall, and as he strokes himself up and down my pussy, I close my eyes, unable to watch what he is about to do.

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