Page 216 of Poison Aches

“What do you think I did to you?” he asks nonchalantly, not even bothered that I’m losing my mind and about to have a panic attack.

“You…” I stutter, my chest now heaving so fast, I might fall into a faint spell. “You did something to me! Why am I here? Why am I in this bed, and why am I wearing this… this shirt?”

From where he sits leisurely in front of his easel, he glances at me briefly, then he goes back to his art.

“That’s a lot of suspicion for someone who has zero regard for their own safety.”

I pause.

“My safety is almost nonexistent where you are concerned.”

From where I’m sitting on the bed, I see the corner of his lips curling slightly up as if he’s amused by that.

“Well, you’re not wrong. Two points for Delusional Ivy.”

I groan in annoyance. “I’m not in the mood for your mood swings. What happened to me?”

“You mean you don’t even recall the night your carelessness caused?”

My carelessness?

I’ve been nothing but careful all my life.

Always cautious, but from the way he suddenly tenses up, I can tell that something serious must’ve happened last night.

“Oh God, Emmett, what happened to me?”

I think I’m almost on the verge of tears now. All sorts of wild scenarios are rushing through my head to try and explain why I ended up in Emmett’s bed.

“Did you…”

“Did I assault you?” he snaps, the notes of anger that I had completely missed in my panic now audible in his terse voice. “Isthat what you want to know, Angel? You think I’d ever be such a twisted sick fuck that I’d sexually assault you?”

An audible gasp escapes my lips.

I hate to say it, let alone admit it, but my mind did wonder…

“I—”

“Well, no, Angel. It wasn’t me who lured you out here under the faux pretenses of helping you get admitted into the fucking med school that you got wait-listed for because of your shit MCAT scores, which then likely gave you the confidence to fix your scores. I’m also not the one who then told you I’d help you find an apartment, when I had in fact a rape den ready, with hidden cameras set up all with the intention of later trapping you, drugging you, raping you, and when I’m done with you, fucking selling you!”

At the end of those words, I’m so stunned that I can’t breathe.

Some words jump at me, echoing in between my ears.

Lured.

Faux pretenses.

Hidden cameras.

Trap.

Drugging.

Raping me…

Emmett stares at me with a look so cold, so livid and dark, that a powerful chill moves through my body, then the fear slams in because images start flashing in my mind.

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