Page 90 of Dead Love
But still, she loved looking like that was all she would ever be.
She was silent, letting me do as I pleased, but when she saw her grave coming into view, her body tensed.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
I put her bare feet on the ground, letting her find her balance.
“Get in the grave,” I said.
“No.”
I cracked my neck to each side. Neither of us had time for this game anymore. I lunged for her shoulders, and she dashed off, immediately tripping over a shovel lying in her path. Her chin landed on the ground with a hard thud, and I pinned her against the grass, putting her wrists behind her back, quickly binding her limbs with the cable ties in my pockets. I carried her again, this time like a piece of luggage, ready to be tossed away.
I threw her down into the burial plot. She thrashed around.
“You don’t want to do this,” she whimpered. “I know you, Vincent. This isn’t actually you.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” I murmured. My whole body tightened. I tossed the ladder into the hole, then jumped down with her, my legs straddling either side of her hips, immobilizing her. I covered her mouth and nose, restricting her air, but this time, she didn’t move. Her eyes were glued to me, holding still. Like none of this mattered to her anymore. Like she expected this from me. Like she would stop too.
A single tear ran down the side of her face.
I removed my hands. Her breathing returned, steady and calm. Why wasn’t she afraid of me anymore?
“Vincent,” she whispered.
I grabbed her throat, and finally, her bottom lip trembled, and I pressed against her, devouring her mouth like I wanted, because if this was it, if I was finally going to do it, then I was going to do whatever the hell I wanted with her. I shoved a hand into her panties and she whimpered, but her pussy lips were drenched, and I moaned, breaking from that kiss to throw my head back. I fingered her hard and rough, shoving in one finger, then another, and another, not waiting for her to get comfortable. I wanted her to feel used. The bitch writhed on my hand, bucking her hips forward, her hands bound behind her back, digging into the dirt. Another finger. My hand pressed together like a cone, stretching her out. Her muscles clenched around me and I shoved my mouth onto her again, staring into her eyes, begging her to understand why I needed this. Why I needed to have her. Why I couldn’t shove my dick inside of her. Because if I did, I knew that would be the last of my resolve. I’d give it all up for her.
She jerked to the side, gasping for air. I growled under my breath.
“We’re supposed to meet Andrew in the morning,” she said, her voice shaking.
My heart stopped. “Andrew?”
“My parents want me to date him,” she stammered. “And if I’m not ready, my mother will figure it out. Shewillfind us.” She shook the loose hairs from her eyes.Us?“And when that happens, I won’t be able to help you this time.”
I exhaled sharply. What was she talking about? “Help me?” I asked.
She nodded, and I stopped. That was how I had gotten out of jail, wasn’t it? Because of Kora. Because she had been there, right before her father released me.
I had been too full of anger to see it.
“Let me go,” she whispered. “I still have enough time to get home before my mother finds out. But if I don’t, my father will put you back in jail. It’s part of the deal.” She gritted her teeth together, chattering. “Please, Vincent. Don’t let this go to waste.”
The stars and the moon sparkled like white beads in her eyes. No one had asked her to save me. She had done it for herself. Put herself in a predicament where she was still her parents’ pawn, but at least I was free. I knew her mother would never physically hurt Kora, but I didn’t trust the sheriff to protect her, especially not when it came to Andrew.
But this wasn’t about me. It was always about Kora. I was just too blind to see it. And that meant forgetting about what I wanted for a second.
She wanted to go back. Everything inside of me vanished.
I climbed out of the pit. Numb to my core, I ran back to the house, the dogs following close behind me, and grabbed the canvas bag out of my closet. Once I was in the grave again, I cut her cable ties, and when she stood, rubbing her wrists, the sides of her body were covered in dirt. I dropped the canvas bag on the ground.
“Take it,” I said. She pulled it closer, and when she looked inside, her lips quivered. “If I can’t help you,” I started to say, but then I stopped.
It had never been about helping her. But now it was.
I went up the ladder. She didn’t follow me.
“Catie will pick you up,” I said.
