Page 350 of Filthy Elites

This feels wrong. It’s only when he opens the door and starts to push me outside without even letting me grab my shoes that I realize he shouldn’t even be in my house. My window is locked. The front door was locked. I usually let him in when he comes to my window, but tonight I just woke up and he was in my room.

“Dare, how did you get in my house?”

His grip on my arm tightens. “Just be a good girl and get in the fucking car.”

His words aren’t the best, but his voice is cold. That’s what scares me.

My heart sinks. I look over and search his face for some sign of what the hell is happening here, but he gives away nothing. “What’s going on?” I ask him.

He escorts me around the car, still with that iron grip on my arm. He opens the door and pushes me inside.

I pull my legs in and look up at him, confused and a little scared by the way he’s acting. “Dare…?”

He doesn’t look me in the eye, just shuts the door and walks around to the driver’s side.

Goosebumps cover my whole body. Maybe it’s because it’s a chilly night and I don’t even have a sweater. Maybe it’s because my occasionally psychotic boyfriend is acting like a psycho… and a cold one, which I’m not used to.

I tell myself everything is fine. He was the Dare I knew five minutes ago when his cock was inside me, so he can’t just… shut it off like that.

But I don’t have an explanation for what the hell is happening, and I don’t know why he’s scaring me like this when we just got past issues over him doing this shit.

When he gets in, he locks the car doors and rolls down his window. He holds the keys out the window, and my heart actually fucking stops when I see Anae grab them.

“Took you long enough,” she says, glancing at me, then back at Dare.

“She couldn’t find her keys,” he explains.

I can’t breathe. Anae flashes me a chilling smile, then takes my keys and starts walking toward my car.

I grip the car seat, trying like hell to breathe.

What the fuck is happening?

“Dare?” My voice shakes. “What the hell is going on? Why is she at my house?”

Rather than answer, he backs out of my driveway.

Bile rises as I look at my house while we’re driving past it. The windows are all dark. All the neighbors are sleeping. And Anae is backing out of my driveway in my car.

“Dare, please talk to me,” I say, my voice small. “What is going on? I’m so confused.”

He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t so much as look at me.

Oh my god.

I tell myself to remain calm, but I feel like throwing up.

I tell myself not to cry because it’s ridiculous, but I’m too afraid not to.

This is Dare. He loves me. He won’t hurt me. He won’t let anyone else hurt me, either.

Right?

Memories start to flash before my eyes, but it’s not a melodramatic end-of-my-life highlight reel. I’m replaying our relationship in my head, making sure everything checks out. That kiss in the ocean. The heat in his voice when he called the night I sent him the picture. The nights he held me in his arms. The way he touches me all the time, like he can never touch me enough. He’s so loving, so affectionate.

So how the hell does he sit there right now like I’m not shaking with fear in the seat next to him?

I watch him, trying to get his attention or make him uncomfortable. I know he canfeelme looking at him.

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