Page 95 of Take Me Under

I turn when I hear the creak of the door.

I look up but I already know who it is before I see him. I would recognize that smell of stale whiskey, weed, and bad cologne anywhere.

Jerry steps inside, his boots too heavy. There’s someone with him—a shadow in the doorway, broad and faceless. My stomach knots, the way it always does when Jerry lingers too long.

I look around, but I’m alone. I wish my mother was here. She always takes care of Jerry when he comes in. She’d convince him to go somewhere else.

Somewhere away from me.

But she isn’t here now.

She’s gone, off with a john, probably so high she doesn’t remember I exist.

“Look at you,” Jerry murmurs, his voice smooth, coaxing. Like he’s trying to tame something wild. “Getting older, aren’t you?”

Something in his tone prickles down my spine, a warning before the strike.

I don’t trust it—I don’t trust him.

I bolt from the mattress, but I’m too slow.

Pain blooms, sharp and sudden, as Jerry’s hands find me, yanking me back and twisting my arms.

The shadow moves in, and the world tilts as I’m slammed onto the mattress, face down.

Panic.

A scream locks in my throat, claws at my ribs, but no sound comes out.

The bed sinks beneath their weight.

The room is too small.

The air is too thick.

The walls press in, and my mind splinters, retreating somewhere far, far away.

A part of me fractures.

A blur of heat, of breath, of hands that don’t belong to me.

The pain is overwhelming.

Then—nothing as darkness swallows everything whole.

My body jolted awake,heart slamming against my ribs like a wild animal trying to escape its cage. My breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, my skin damp with cold sweat. Darkness coiled around me, thick and suffocating.

Another body pressed against my backside, holding me down. My pulse pounded like a war drum, a deafening rhythm of terror. I lunged away, twisting violently, my instincts taking over before reason could catch up. A growl tore from my throat as I wrenched free, flipping the attacker beneath me. My forearm crushed against their throat while my freehand captured their wrists above their head.

The shadow writhed, gasping, but I held firm. I had him now. I hadhim.

“Not this time,” I snarled.

My grip tightened. The bastard wouldn’t take this from me. Not again—never again.

But something was wrong.

The face beneath me blurred, flickering between past and present like a broken film reel. Jerry’s smirk. The stranger’s grin.And then, ocean blue eyes were staring back at me, wide with shock and fear.

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