Page 124 of Second Sets Omnibus
“I don’t have a car, remember? I can’t bring it back. So here, take it back now, and I appreciate it, Van. Seriously, this was so nice of you, but I need to get back to funeral planning,” I mumble, shoving the plastic back into his stomach until he grips it.
“Shit!” he yelps when the lid blows open, spilling the contents of the container onto his white shirt, staining it brown.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, grabbing a paper towel, wiping it off the floor, and handing him one for his shirt.
Shaking his head, he cringes. “It’s okay,” he says with a pained expression; grabbing the back of his shirt, he takes it off and shrugs. “It’s no biggie. Do you have a washer here? Can you put it in there?” Van slowly leans down, pinning my back against the kitchen cabinet like a predator swooping in for its kill.
I jerk back, trying to keep him as far away from me as possible. My skin crawls at the sadistic look crossing his face that he's hiding behind a sympathetic expression. Van has always had his claws in me by following me around and luring me out of my pants. But not this time.
“Maybe you should leave,” I say through a heavy breath, keeping my eyes on the predator in front of me. I swear if I blink, he'll keep getting closer until he swallows me whole.
“Rivey, I can't leave now,” he says, furrowing his brows. “You're hurting,” he murmurs, running a finger down my cheek, and I flinch away. Hurt sears into his face, but he shakes it off, looking at me with pity. “Your mom just died. You can't stay here all by yourself.”
“I can. I'm fine.” I put my hands up, resting them on his chest and attempting to push him away.
I'd be much better if he stopped looking at me like I was a broken doll needing healing. He's not the one I want. I want the boys who hold my heart in their hands, the ones I didn't even mean to fall in love with. That's how it happens, though, right? We fall for those bad boys we swear off, knowing they're tinged in poison, ready to infect us with their wicked ways.
“No. You can't! You need someone, and obviously, those idiots who've been following you around like puppies aren't around. Where are they, Rivey?” he asks, leaning in closer to look me in the eyes. “Where are they now?”
“I… I…” I roll my lips together because I have no idea. It's like they're avoiding me for some reason, but I can't think of why. Did I do something to piss them off? I mean, I told them to leave me be, but I didn't actually think they would for this long.
“I tried to tell you,” Van murmurs, pinching my chin. “They're users, Riv. You know they made it into Battle of the Bands, right?”
“Wait, what?” I ask, sucking in a breath. “No, they would have… they would have told me…”
Wouldn't they have? Wouldn't I have been the first person they told? They promised they'd take me. They promised me a lot of shit. And now they've gotten what they wanted from me. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. I'm a fucking adult, and I'll talk to them about it after everything settles down.
My heart skips a beat when Van's brown eyes lock on something behind us, and he growls. Before I have time to analyze what's happening, he leans in, putting his lips on mine with vigor. From the moment our lips touch, my stomach turns, wanting to vomit right into his mouth. Maybe that’d get him to back off and stop touching me like he owns me.
Letting out a shriek into his probing mouth, I jam my fist into his side several times without results. Jamming his tongue onto my mouth, he plasters himself against me, holding me hostagewith his unwanted kiss. A sharp pain pierces my lip when he bites down, splitting my flesh. An angry moan bubbles up from my throat when he licks at the spot and returns to forcing his tongue into my mouth. I couldn’t fucking move if I wanted to. Shit. With his hands in my hair and body pressed into mine, I’m at his mercy until he pulls away, panting for air with a flushed look.
“I’ve missed you so damn much,” he says louder than necessary. “You're so damn perfect for me, Riv. I knew you’d finally choose me over them.”
I grunt, trying to squirm out of his grip, but he holds me tighter. A devious grin spreads across his lips, sending chills down my spine. Before me, Van changes into some sort of frightening monster, clinging to me harder than before. A low, menacing chuckle explodes from his vibrating chest, and glee lights up the darkened shadows on his face, making him out to be the true villain he is.
Fear slithers through my veins at what he's capable of. Here I am in my own home, backed into a corner, forced to make out with the man who apparently has a hard time hearing no. Over and over again, I've asked him to fuck off, and repeatedly, he hasn't listened.
“You don’t have to pretend you don’t like it, Rivey. I know you do.” With every word he speaks, his voice gets louder and louder, making my ears ring from the volume of his deep voice.
“I really don't,” I grunt, attempting to push him away, but my hands become trapped between our bodies.
Every attempt to turn my head behind me is blocked by his massive hands gripping my hair with bruising force. Panic creeps up my spine, clawing at me to run the fuck away. From deep within, I find the strength to push Van off me and kick him straight in the dick. His brown eyes widen in terror, and he grunts, holding a hand to his balls, and sinks to his kneeswith a crazed expression. Betrayal flashes through his eyes when he groans, trying to ride out the discomfort of my kick on the ground.
It seems Van needs another—fuck around and find out—type of lesson because verbalizing my discomfort doesn't seem to register with him. So, without uttering a word, I grunt, pulling my fist back and heaving it straight into his face.
The burning, crunching pain hits my fist first as I shake it out in the air, wishing I could punch him again. Basking in the glory of his blood splattering against my fist, I heave a breath, trying to wash away the unwanted touch of Van as I make my getaway. How could someone so close to me force themselves on me like that? Again? How many times will it take for men to understand the word no?
My heart pounds in my chest at the phantom feel of him pushing against me, and I shake it off, running toward my bedroom. I slam the door shut, locking the damn knob, and turn toward my sliding glass door. Freedom is within my grasp until I stop dead, freezing in place.
My heart shatters when Callum stands outside the sliding glass door, shaking his head in disbelief. Tears run down his face in rapid succession, falling to the floor, agony twists his face when he wipes away the tears, and his jaw tightens as I’ve never seen before.
“You-you kissed him? So-so, it's true?” His face twists more, pain tearing through him and, in turn, splitting me open with his visual anguish.
“What? What's true? Callum,” I say, reaching for him. “Listen…”
“Goodbye, River,” he rasps through thick emotions in a low voice, sending shivers down my spine. The final nail in the coffin has sealed my fate.
“No, wait!” I shout with desperation cracking my voice when he walks as fast as he can down the sidewalk and fucking disappears into the night, not bothering to let me explain anything to him. I could chase him all night, and he'd still turn his back on me.
