Page 31 of Quiet Rage
“Kellen, please let me go,” I beg, not caring how desperate I sound.
“I’ll take you home soon,” he offers, but it doesn't help with my overwhelming fear.
I suddenly can’t breathe. I grab my chest and try to suck in air, but nothing is happening. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to calm myself. The car comes to a halt, but I’m too scared to open my eyes.
“Hey, take a breath before you pass out,” he tells me before cutting the engine.
I open my eyes and suck in a raggedy breath. I take in my surroundings carefully. We are parked at the edge of a tree line, overlooking the city. If I wasn't still on the verge of a panic attack, I might find this view beautiful.
I swallow, waiting for Kellen to say or do something, but he just sits there looking at the city lights.
When I can’t take the eerie silence anymore, I clear my throat. “Why am I here?”
Kellen shrugs. “I come here to think,” he says, as if that’s enough explanation.
The space goes quiet again, leaving my intrusive thoughts to run rampant. I’m out in the middle of nowhere and no one knows where I am. Kellen is unpredictable, and he’s proven that he can do with me whatever he wants.
I’m so lost in my fearful mind, that I barely notice my stomach rumbling loudly.
“Hungry?” Kellen asks, looking over at me.
“I’m fine.”
“That didn’t sound fine,” he counters before reaching over me.
I stiffen, pressing my body away from him as much as I can when I realize he is going for the glove compartment. Grabbing onto the handle, he pulls it open and reaches inside. He pulls out a granola bar and hands it to me.
“Eat,” he orders when I do nothing besides stare at his offering.
With an unsteady hand, I grab the bar from him and unwrap it. I take a tiny bite, chewing slowly. I don’t even taste it before swallowing the gooey mass. It lands heavily on my empty stomach. I repeat the motion until I finish the whole thing.
Awkwardly, I hold on to the empty wrapper, not sure where to put it. Kellen reaches over to me and snatches the trash from my hand before stuffing it in the pocket of his door.
Then we return to sitting in silence. I guess doing nothing is better than getting bullied…or worse.
Just when I thought he might actually leave me be, his deep voice fills the car. “I want you to sit on my lap.”
I swing my head around to look at him, somewhat hoping to find that he is kidding, but his intense stare makes it clear he isn’t.
Of course he didn’t bring me here to look at the city. He wants something from me—he always does—and it never matters if I’m willing to give it.
I want to scream in frustration. Why am I so weak and scared? Why can’t I be someone who is brave and knows how to fight someone off, even though they're three times their size?
When I don’t move fast enough. Kellen reaches out to me. His fingers wrap around my wrist, and he slowly pulls me over to him.
I don’t fight. I climb over the center console and into his lap until my ass is planted against the steering wheel and my legs straddle his powerful thighs.
Wrapping his arm around my back, he slides his hand under my shirt until his large palm is sprawled against my skin.
“You are so tense.” Kellen points out the obvious. “Relax.” His thumb starts to draw circles, only making me more rigid. “Put your head on my shoulder.”
I’m not sure where this is going, but I do what he asks and let my head fall on his shoulder. His next move is even more confusing. He grabs one of my hands and brings it to his chest. Covering his palm with mine, he presses my hand right above his heart.
We kissed before. He has been inside of me, and yet this feels somehow more intimate.
He holds me like this for a while, his warm embrace confusing my body and my mind. I don’t know if it’s the rhythmic caress on my back or the steady drum of his heart beating under my hand, but somehow I’m able to relax a little.
For a moment, I’m almost not scared of him.
