Page 174 of Scrimmage

“Good girl.” He pushes my shirt up and shoves my legs apart. He’s large, so at least it feels good. It makes me so confused.

The first time he gave me an orgasm I cried for days. The person you hate the most can make you feel so good. His love is the only thing that sustains me. As he enters me, I feel the piercing pain in my shoulder, but before I scream his mouth is back on mine. Deeper and deeper. My mind is a forest fire. The pain is horrible, but the rest is like bliss.

This is only the beginning.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.”

He drives the knife, pushing it through muscle, keeping me lucid. The pain is a different kind of high.

“Ashland!”

My eyes shoot open and I gasp for air. “Ashland, it’s okay.”

Koda. This is Koda. I can smell him and I can feel him, but the phantom pain from that night is burning through my shoulder. I’m clutching it and crying. I must have screamed, and there was no one to take it. He tears my shirt off inspecting me. The scar is hidden by intricate tattoos.

I shove him away. “I’m fine.”

“You're not fine. You were fucking screaming.”

“I’m sexually frustrated,” I try to laugh it off.

“That was…Ashland. Please. Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.” I start to slide my hand down his abdomen but he stops me.

“What was your nightmare about?”

I can’t tell him that. I'll never tell anyone ever again. “Cupcakes and rainbows.”

“Yeah, I can tell. That’s why you were doing everything you could to stay awake. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I—“

“Save the bullshit, Ash.”

I avert my eyes. “Just dumb shit.”

“Didn’t sound dumb. Sounded pretty bad, actually.” When he can see I’m not going to say anything he continues. “I used to have bad nightmares, too.”

“Congratulations.”

He peers at me. “What are the scars from?”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I covered them with tattoos for a reason.”

“And the one on your ass?”

It finally happened. He finally asked. “Didn’t think a tattoo would look good there.”

“I care. Why can’t you believe that?” His finger traces the scar from Damien’s knife in my shoulder.

“There is no point in getting to know each other like that.”

“I would like to.”

I take a deep breath and stare at the ceiling. “Being sad is the worst pain that there is.”

I know it sounds like it was a suicide attempt, and in a way it sort of was. There’s more than one scar on my body. A lot of them were just deep enough to hurt—to leave a mark. Damien loved that shit. What would be considered damage to everyone else was dedication in his eyes.

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