Page 17 of The Invite
“No, they’ll believe me.” I hold my stance, refusing to cower and be scared by the likes of him. “They’ll see what a manipulative psychopath you are.”
“Are you sure?” he counters. “You’re new and a nobody in this town, teach. You have no idea where you are. You have barely sunk your toes in a place you have a lot to learn about. Don’t go making enemies just yet.”
The alternative is walking the same halls as him, watching his smug face every day in the class, knowing he’s holding lastnight over my head and being worried sick about the next time he and his equally psychotic yet sarcastic friend corners me.
I’m torn because he’s right on multiple counts.
I am all alone, with no family or support system to speak of, which he doesn’t know. But it works in his favor. The way he’s insinuating this tells me Fallthorne isn’t the quaint little small town I believed it to be. It also hasn’t escaped my notice the air of untouchability around Augustus. It’s part of his aura.
Showing up late in class.
No fear of consequences.
What I think is arrogance isn’t that at all. It’s just who he is at his core. Dangerous. Unpredictable. Vicious. I wonder what led him to become this man who has no sense of boundaries.
Am I willing to go to a battle against him? Do I have a chance of surviving?
I barely did in the woods, and that’s only because he got distracted.
An oversight he won’t ever repeat.
While I’m contemplating all this, he’s observing me carefully. A sudden thought strikes. He’s mindfucking me again, letting me think he’s giving me an out when it is actually a trap.
I’m not just falling, I’m tangling right into it.
Steeling my spine, I lift my chin daringly, and reply, “I think I’ll take my chances.”
A surprised gasp slips past my lips when he plasters himself to my front. His patience is gone. Large hands span my hips and stretch me up to my toes.
I’m assaulted by his scent, filling my nostrils in thick gulps as he bends an inch from my trembling lips, confessing, “You don’t know this since you ran, and make no mistake, I would’ve caught you again if it wasn’tmychoice to let you go. So, what you missed is that there was a huge misunderstanding. You stumbled on what was a staged act, which you ruined, and thatgirl will confess the same. Even if it were the opposite, she’d still say whatever I told her to. Except, it will never come to that.”
I’m unable to think straight with him pressed against my soft curves, much less process the enormity of what he just said.
A misunderstanding? A staged act?
My breathing deepens as I utter, dumbfounded, “What?”
“Primal play, honey,” he explains, his fingers tightening playfully against my flesh. “Masked men hunting a beautiful, innocent girl through the woods and making her perform indecent and filthy acts is a high many women chase these days. Mav and I make them come true, for a price.”
Oh my god.
Everything clicks into place. The mystery behind the girl being upset is now uncovered. They thought I was her and it’s why they kept toying with me. Does this mean they were never going to hurt me?
It was all an act.
The profound relief overwhelms my chest.
But wait… they still would’ve kept going and eventually fucked me without being aware they were raping me. A simple case of mistaken identity would’ve cost me my life. This is a dangerous game they’re playing.
No matter the explanation, it all went sideways, and he just expects me to let it go? Chalk it up as a misfortunate accident and move on?
Why else would he be confessing this?
First, he tried to blackmail me, and now this.
I shove him back, feeling nauseated, but his physique is like a mountain and he doesn’t budge. “I wasn’t her.”
“I know,” he admits, running a knuckle down my cheekbone. “Your fight and fear were too real.”
