Page 7 of Dollhouse

Sebastian’s anger is getting unbridled with every passing day. His abuse has become a daily occurrence. Maybe it's my fault, because lately, I seem to have found my urge to fight back. And fight back, I do.

I'm going to fight him until I die. A death that I'm anxiously waiting for, and knowing it's getting closer with each passing day, has me even more anxious than usual.

Death is calling for me. I can taste it.

* * *

"Happy birthday, honey."Sebastian's lips press against my temple. "You look beautiful." He takes my hand in his and spins me around, fully admiring my attire for the evening. I'm wearing a floor-length navy satin dress that accentuates every curve and dip in my body perfectly. The formfitting dress is tighter than any dress I'd usually wear, and the crisscross straps leave my back exposed. I'd worried it would be too revealing for Seb or not the right color, but to my surprise, he likes it. He'd taken me shopping last week, and when I stepped out of the dressing room wearing this dress, I expected to find rage brewing in his eyes. Instead, I found lust, and that's the same way he's looking at me right now. With pure lust in his devilish blue eyes. My heart skips a beat at the way he's looking at me, and I can't yet tell if that's a good thing or not.

Today is my twenty-sixth birthday, and he's taking me to a fancy new restaurant for dinner in the next town over. The restaurant is two hours away, so he got us a hotel room for the weekend.

I handed the folder of evidence to Delilah on Monday. Today is Friday, and all week long, Sebastian’s been spoiling me. He's been surprising me with endless gifts, morning breakfasts, and peppers me with kisses every now and then. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's showing meaffection. But I know him too well to fall for his nice guy facade. It's only a matter of time until he flies into a rage, and I'm the one who'll suffer once his inner demon is unleashed. But for now, I'm going to enjoy a weekend away and being worshipped. I deserve it. I'm walking on eggshells, but I'll try and enjoy it for as long as possible. I'd like to have one final good memory together before everything goes to shit.

Seb is dressed in a navy suit that matches my dress, and as usual, he looks flawless with minimal effort. Sebastian Riley has the looks to sweep any girl off their feet. I would know because that's exactly what he did to me.

* * *

"Happy twenty-first birthday, bitch!"Zoe, my best friend, yelled over the loud music. I'd never been much of a drinker and didn't want to celebrate tonight, but after practically begging me to come out, along with a few of our other friends from Ciel, I gave in. A group of us went out to the new club in town to celebrate my birthday.

"Drink up! You're drinking until you black out." Lola giggled, shoving another shot of tequila in my hand. I already felt tipsy enough, but that didn't stop me from downing the shot of amber liquid and relishing in the warmth it provided my body.

I'd lost count of how many shots we'd taken and was drunker than I'd ever been, but I still knew the exact moment he entered the club. The air shifted, and my skin tingled, not from the tequila but from the feeling of sharing the same space as him. He dominated any room he entered. Even in the crowd of people, my eyes were able to find him instantly.

As if he could sense me gawking at him from across the room, he looked up, and our eyes met. Out of everyone in the building, our eyes were drawn together like magnets. A spark of electricity shot through my veins as I watched a slow, sultry grin form on his lips. My mind wandered to places it shouldn't, and then I was thinking what it would be like to have those lips on mine.

"Your hot stalker is here." Zoe chuckled, nudging me forward, closer to him. "Go talk to him!" I rolled my eyes and took the drink from her hands. They'd been teasing me for far too long about the mystery man who always appeared at my recitals with a bouquet of red roses addressed to me. He never said a word. He’d watch me dance, bring the flowers backstage, and leave before I even had a chance to thank him or introduce myself. I saw him all the time, and every single time he looked at me with those arctic eyes, he stole the air from my lungs. I didn’t have the heart to tell him how much I hated roses.

"Okay, I will!" I announced, shocking my friends as well as myself. Zoe looked at me with wide eyes, clearly not having expected that I would agree. I've asked around about him, but none of the other girls knew who he was. My friends called him my stalker.

My hot stalker, for whom I was crossing the room to talk to for the first time, hoping he wouldn’t run away like he normally did.

With a smirk, his eyes raked down my body, causing an unfamiliar throb between my legs. This man was pure sex on legs. He was tall with broad shoulders and had a white dress shirt on that happened to be too tight around his muscular chest.

Oh God, I was already wet just from the sight of him.

"My friends think you're stalking me," I blurted out instantly, the tequila I consumed giving me the courage to speak to this beautiful stranger.

"Do you think I'm stalking you?" he rasped out smoothly with a hint of amusement. Holy fuck, even his voice was sexy as hell.

I lifted my left shoulder up in a shrug. "You seem to always be at my recitals," I accused. He didn’t deny it. No, he just kept looking at me with a delicious smile that I wanted to lick off his face.

Woah, where were these thoughts coming from?

It was several pounding heartbeats later when he finally spoke. "When I see something I like, I make a point to continue seeing it and then claiming it." His fingertips stroked along my jawline, a shiver creeping down my spine. "And I like you, my little ballerina."

Three months later, I was married to Mr. Sex On Legs and was head over fucking heels in love, ignoring every single red flag.

* * *

"Where did you go just now?"Sebastian's voice pulls me away from my thoughts. He's standing behind me in the elevator; his arms wrapped securely around my waist.

"I was thinking about the night we met," I answer honestly, a small smile pulling at the corners of my lips. He kisses my temple, his fingertips trailing up and down my exposed back.

"You were wearing an awful gold minidress that you kept pulling down every few seconds because you hated being exposed. Your friends surrounded you, yet your smile never met your eyes. The only time you would dance and laugh was when you thought no one was watching. You were a girl who hated attention, yet you were the lead role in every recital. You'd lose yourself in dance but shy away when you realized people were watching. You danced for yourself, not for anyone else." With wide eyes, I turn around in his arms to face him. Staring into his deep blue eyes, I gasp. The eyes that were staring back at me were the same eyes of the man I met at the club all those years ago—the man who made me fall in love on our second date.

"How hungry are you?" I ask breathlessly. I hadn't realized he'd noticed all those things about me or would even remember, but hearing him say those things about me melts me into a puddle right at his feet.

I am a red-blooded human, after all. It's okay to be turned on by the right words. Even if those words are coming from the devil.

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