Page 26 of Pieces of Ash
MY WIFE DOESN’T ACT LIKE A SCORPIE CURVA. He sits back in his seat, unbuckles his belt, and unzips his pants, taking out his semi-erect dick. NOW SUCK ME OFF.
I stare at his cock for a second before skipping my eyes to his. WHAT?
IT’S AN HOUR TO THE DETOX PLACE. He glances down at his penis, which is getting thicker by the second. SUCK IT.
FUCK YOU, I whisper.
This guy is fucking crazy. I’m getting out of this. I’m not marrying him. Fuck this.
YOU HAVE A LOT TO LEARN, he says.
He reaches for the back of my neck and yanks my head into his lap, my cheek landing against his meat. I struggle, but he keeps his iron grip on the back of my neck.
IF YOU BITE ME, he says softly, I’LL KILL YOU. I’LL SLIT YOUR WRISTS AND MAKE IT LOOK LIKE SUICIDE. NOW SUCK IT.
I felt like I was going to pass out again, but I licked my lips, reaching for his cock and guiding it into my mouth.
I’m surprised I didn’t snap the fucking hinge of my jaw.
I had his dick in my mouth for at least forty fucking minutes before he growled and clenched, coming in hot jerks down my throat that made me gag.
His hand loosened on the back of my neck, and I leaned up, backhanding my lips and wiping away the tears on my face as he stared at me.
I don’t know what I expected. A compliment? Thanks? Something?
But he just stared at me, finally reaching down to zip up his pants and refasten his belt as the limo pulled into the driveway of the treatment facility.
Mosier kissed my cheek in front of the attending physician and said he’d be back in a week.
MY SISTER? I asked him, realizing I’d barely thought of her since the airport.
AT A HOTEL WITH YOUR PARENTS UNTIL THE WEDDING, he said. Then he tilted his head to the side, gentlycaressing my cheek with one stubby finger. SHE IS VERY BEAUTIFUL, I THINK…LIKE YOU.
Everyone always said shit like that to me. She’s my spitting image. It’s true.
It occurs to me that he’s told me I’m beautiful in a roundabout way, and this is the nicest thing he’s said to me since I fucking arrived, and it makes me feel something. What? I don’t know. A little less scared, maybe. And that’s the first time I realize it. I’mscaredof him.
BE A GOOD GIRL, he says, his eyes going cold again as he drops his finger from my face. BE A GOOD GIRL, TEAGAN.
They didn’t take this diary away from me. In fact, Dr. Kazmaier said journaling was a “step in the right direction” and told the orderlies to let me keep it.
I’m in my room here, and it’s plush, but there are fucking bars on the window and the door is locked from the outside. It feels more like a jail than any other treatment facility I’ve been in.
I have no phone in my room, and they took my cell away, and after two weeks of hard partying I’m starting to feel like shit. Shaking and hot and cold and like I have to throw up. Fuck. Withdrawal. It’s fucking starting already.
Maybe this won’t be so bad? Maybe detox will be good for me? Maybe an older man like Mosier will be good too?
I don’t fucking know.
I only know it feels way too late to turn back now.
Tig
Chapter 6
Ashley
“Miss…miss, wake up. I think this is your stop?”
