Page 79 of Better Run
“That’s it, baby.” The man above me rubs his beard on my cheek and neck as he thrusts his pelvis into me. He’s hard behind his jeans. He has my wrists pinned above my head, and he’s taking control, but something feels wrong. It’s not right.
“Hey,” I say and try and swallow away the wrongness. “Want to spice it up a little?”
His pace stutters. “What?” He looks at me. His eyes are hazy and complacent.
I frown. “Spice it up?” He doesn’t react. I pull at my arms. “Let go.”
He does immediately. For some reason, that pisses me off more. I push him away, and he allows it. “You know what. I don’t feel well.”
He takes a tiny step back. “What?”
I can't explain what’s wrong. I came onto him. I found him on Tinder and hounded him for a date. He said he was a Dom, and I was desperate to feel that. But I don’t feel that spark, that fear, that electricity like I did with… them.
“I’m sorry. It’s just not working.” I push past him. He follows me out of the room.
“Wait. What happened?”
I snatch my keys from his kitchen table. Normally I’d never go to a strange guy’s house, but I decided to try and live a little.
I walk to his door, and he gives an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Have a nice night. Life. Whatever.”
I don’t even turn around. I slide into the junker that Carissa has been loaning me so my car and plates don’t show up on the radar and drive off into the night. To avoid feelings of disappointment and longing, I dial Carissa. She answers on the first ring.
“Bitch, it’s early as fuck. Was he a one-pump chump?”
I sigh, “No, just...I don’t know. Not what I expected.”
“What do you mean?” She gasps, “Did he have serial killer vibes? I’m coming over.”
I laugh and look at the dark Texas countryside going by. No, he didn’t. Is it sad that I’d probably have enjoyed it more if he did? I fill her in on the details.
“Well, okay. And hey, don’t forget,” she reminds, “You have that removal appointment this week. And don’t bitch out this time. He’ll never book me again if I keep promising him you’ll show, and you never do.”
I wince. “Fine, fine.” I’ve been procrastinating on it. I’m not sure why; I just can’t bring myself to go. The tattoo feels like...a part of me now.
I hang up with Carissa. When I do, the silence fills my mind followed quickly by pain, emptiness, homesickness. I tell myself it’s for my old house with Kyle.
I jam on the radio and try to block out the memories. I still have nightmares. I feel guilty about Sage’s death. Like maybe if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in Jayden and Cole, I could have helped save her. The thought is an old friend at this point, with how much I’ve thought about it.
I roll into the farmhouse driveway and shut the car door quietly. Despite the warm night, I shiver. Recently, I feel like someone has been watching me. I know it’s PTSD, thinking someone is around every corner. But I can’t shake the feeling.
The next morning after I’ve made breakfast and cleaned the dishes, Rosemary comes up to me where I’m dusting the blinds. It’s one of the most monotonous things to do and makes me want to shove the duster into my eye socket. But she pays me in cash and gives me a place to live. I’ve started back up on social media, using a different account, of course, but it takes time to build up the follower base that I left behind.
“This came for you, sweetie.” She slides an envelope to me and moves into the kitchen.
It’s a light blue envelope with the name ‘Mary’ printed on it and nothing else. My heart rate increases. I’ve been going by Mary here. I never used it before Jayden and Cole, I always went by Jo. And it’s easier to stick to a lie when it’s a partial truth. But something about it feels wrong.
I take the envelope and tell myself it’s nothing. Something from one of Rosemary’s friends, maybe.
I open it and slide out a powder blue card with gold tree limbs and sparkles for leaves. There’s a cabin in the background with gold wood. I swallow.
Inside the card is blank except for one word. I drop the card to the floor.
‘Kitten’.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Cole
