“Fuck me?”
He stalks back towards me and kicks my legs apart from me with his knee. He settles in between my thighs and puts his hand over my pajamas, right where my pussy is.
I inhale sharply, and the pulsations begin against his touch. My brain wants to make room for sensual curiosity. He scoffs before he slips his fingers into my bottoms and places his fingers over my skin. He stops right above my pubic bone, just a centimeter from my clit.
“If you want me to fuck you, Bambi, you have to beg. But get creative with your words because you already know how I feel about the word, please.”
“Never,” I rasp.
“Look at your cheeks, the color they make when I touch you.”
“It's because I’m angry,” I lie. I try to mask my flustered tone.
He chuckles profoundly and then slides his finger down my wet slit and smirks when he realizes how I’m dripping.
Screw him.
He pulls his finger out and holds it in front of our faces.
“Angry, huh? Your body has a wild way of showing that emotion.” Then he licks his finger. He sucks my wetness with a deeply satisfied hum.
“Fuck...you taste so good. If this is the way you drip, I can’t imagine how your blood will taste.”
I’ve had enough of this.
I slap him across the face right before I grab my lamp and smash it across his head. My lamp shatters in pieces when it impacts, leaving many cuts all over his gorgeous, vengeful face.
I start crawling away when I realize my attempt to knock him out has failed, and my plan to escape is slowly withering away.
I crawl away until my back hits my headboard, and I hug my knees to my chest while I watch Hayden close his eyes, shaking his head like he’s about to do something terrible. He faces all the broken pieces of the lamp on the floor, blood dripping down his sharp cheekbones and chiseled jaw. He grins, but he’s beyond enraged by the way his eyes gleam a deeper shade of crimson and his pupils expand.
“While I love a good fight, I’m running short on time.” In a blink of an eye, he’s in front of my face, his hand over my mouth, muffling my screams. The vein in his neck bulges as he restrains me.
“Sweet dreams, little Bambi.”
Everything goes black.
8
MILLIE
Darkness.Cold air. There’s a soft foundation underneath my body. The contrary to the eerie feeling that surrounds me like a blanket of darkness. I feel like I’m in my bed. But it’s different. I don’t feel my beanie babies by me. I don’t feel Cooper snuggling by my feet like he always does when I fall asleep.
All I can hear is my slow, quivering breaths changing into a quick, erratic rhythm. I’m scaring myself because Hayden’s red eyes and sharp teeth sinking into my skin are all I can think about. It’s a short movie playing in my mind, but it’s fuzzy and blurry.
Am I dead? Did he finally take my pain away and kill me? Put me out of my misery?
The memories of me breaking the vase on his head come back like a storm, pummeling every ounce of bravery, shattering it in a way I’m not sure I’ll ever recover. The fear he infiltrates sears into me like a permanent tattoo, poisoning my strength to fight him...and fight for myself.
How do you win against a monster you thought only existed in movies and fictional novels?
I want my life back. I want to live a life of being blinded to the mythical creatures that walk this Earth. I miss it. Maybe we’re allnaive. Maybe we’re all forcing out the possibilities of eerie horror just so we can get by daily…only seeing what we want to see.
I don’t know how long it's been, but I already miss my dad, I miss my dog, I miss the normal life of a college student trying to figure out if she made the right choice of courses she’s majoring in.
I decide to break out of my weak moment and look around at my surroundings. Maybe he didn't kidnap me? Maybe this is all a bad fucking dream. Maybe I've watched too many horror movies, and it’s getting to me. I can feel my pulse thunder in the base of my throat, and then the obvious hits me.
My heart is still beating. I’m alive.