Page 113 of Saving Sparrow
“Wake up!”
I’m awake,I wanted to scream, but fire rose up my throat, turning my trapped words to ash. Fingers dug into my shoulders, squeezing my shaking body.
“Elliott, open your eyes!”
My eyes were open, but all I could see was red, a pool of red trying to drown me.
My head jerked to the side, the sting to my cheek much harder than the others that time. I blinked, sweat falling from my brow as I sputtered, the blood vanishing.
My gaze flew around the room. “W-where… W-what… I d-don’t—” Another slap to my cheek, that one bringing me fully back to my senses.
Wheezing, I stared at Miguel, trying to work out what was going on. He knelt beside me, his hand on my shoulder, his normally tanned skin pale.
I was upright, something hard beneath me. I looked down, eyes clashing with Quentin’s panicked stare. I was straddling him, like maybe he’d had to haul me onto him. My head began hurting, with black dots floating around my vision. I felt weightless suddenly, like I was floating away.
I needed to stay here. I couldn’t explain it, but it felt important to stay grounded. Every time I’d ever felt this way in the past, I ended up forgetting things. I didn’t want to forget Quentin and Miguel. I wouldn’t be able to live with that.
“Again,” I panted at Quentin. “Hit me again.”
“What? No, fucking—”
“Again, please!” I cried. “I have to stay here.Please.”
Without understanding, he slapped me again.
“Quentin!” Miguel sounded hysterical, but I ignored him.
“Again!”
Quentin hit me again, this time nearly knocking me off him. My hair clung to my face, the headache slowly receding. “Again,” I whispered.
“N-not his face,” Miguel said. “You’ll hurt him.”
“Again…Please. Again… Again… Again…”
Quentin fumbled with my sweaty nightgown, hiking it up to my waist. His palm whistled through the air, cracking down loudly on my ass cheek. I jolted against him, falling forward. My fingers curled into the sheets on either side of him, my hair curtaining us both, blocking everything else out.
“Yes,” I hissed. “Just… l-like that. P-please.”
Quentin slapped my ass again, harder than before. I dug my knees into his sides for leverage. “Again, don’t stop. Please, Quentin. You can’t stop.”
Snarling, he tore through the lace underwear, then he let himself fly free. His large, heavy palm crashed down on my hot skin repeatedly. My eyes fluttered closed, my body taking over as my hips rolled without my permission.
I vaguely registered Quentin growing hard beneath me, and couldn’t control myself as I scooted back an inch to ride the length of him with the crack of my butt cheeks.
Sweat streamed down every inch of my skin, replacing the pain I’d felt in the dream. Quentin’s panting filled my ears, replacing the religious ramblings of the faceless man hurting me.
The bed rocked as I moved faster over him, as nothing else existed beyond the curtain closing us in.
The ache in my head vanished completely, a calm numbness replacing it as my lower back began to tighten.
“Quen…” I tried but couldn’t get out. I moved faster and faster, chasing the thing that scared me, knowing we were doing something wrong but couldn’t work out exactly what yet. Dread crept in, making my heart skip a beat, but I needed to stay here… I needed to—
With one last slap of Quentin’s hand—the sound bouncing off the walls—I came, choking on it, my body spasming and melting from theinside out.
Blinking back to awareness, I stared down at Quentin. Moisture and worry filled his eyes. I’d never seen Quentin cry before, and it made my heart splinter to know I’d been the one to cause his tears now.
I couldn’t sit up, couldn’t push my hair out of the way, because I suddenly remembered Miguel. Just like with Gideon, I knew I’d ruined everything.
