Page 125 of Bitter Truths

Turning away, he says softly, “I’m going to make you better. You just have to trust me. We can do this together, Halsey. You have so much potential.”

Eyeing the damn glass, I swallow and say dully, “How?”

He turns to me with a new light in his eyes, and I resist the urge to flinch, but it’s a primal feeling that makes me shudder instead.

His eyes narrow, and his mouth thins, and I look away cowed. What does he want from me?

If he thought I would come in here with a smile and eager demeanor, he’s seriously fucking deluded. Of course, he’s already deluded.

“It starts with doing as I say. I am your master. You are my slave. I can teach you great pleasure, Halsey, but with it comes great pain. You understand?”

Nodding slowly, I murmur, “Yes.”

But I don’t understand,I scream in my head.

“Okay, good. First lesson, take off the towel.”

Gritting my teeth, I stare at him mutely once more and cringe when he grabs my hair again and shoves me to the floor.

“Now for your punishment,” he says silkily.

He pulls at his belt buckle, and I stare at him dumbly before the weight of the past pulls me under.

I’m lying in the dirt, and the soil curls beneath my hands. He’s rutting above me. It hurts, oh God, it hurts.

“Halsey!”

Snapping my head up, I meet Dr. Marks’ eyes, and everything comes back into focus. I’m here, and this is now, and I will die fighting before I allow him or any other dick to defile me.

With a fierce glare, I head butt him in the nuts, ignoring the pain that ricochets through my head.

“Fuck!” he snarls, bending over. “Damn you.”

“Fuck off!” I spit, crawling backward awkwardly, with the towel flapping around my body.

“This isn’t how it works, Halsey,” he insists, standing and walking toward me with a determined glint in his eye.

“It’s not going to work at all. I’m not your fucking submissive! I’m no one’s,” I scream, scrambling backward on the slick as fuck tile.

“Please, you couldn’t pull your pathetic ass out of bed just weeks ago. You think you’re strong? You’re weak. You’re a fucking joke,” he bellows, and I stare at him in disbelief.

“I’m a joke? You’re supposed to be helping people. You’re a fucking predator,” I hiss.

“I am helping you,” he insists with shining eyes. “Halsey, this will save your life.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m not insane,” he roars, rushing me.

Crying out, I tumble backward, and he’s on me. With flailing limbs, I fight him off and cry, “No!”

I’m speaking my truth, but once again, no one is listening. Slamming my fist against his chin, I drop to the floor and whimper when he smacks my head against the floor.

“Fuck you. I’m helping you, you bitch. Fucking pathetic,” he sneers, wrapping his hands around my neck.

Wheezing, I slap at his hands, pushing and pulling, but he won’t fucking let up. Black dots dance before my eyes, and I collapse to the floor, slipping them closed.

If I’m going to die, it’s not staring into this fucker’s eyes. Instead, I conjure the look on Griffin’s face the first day I met him. He stared at me like I was his savior, and my soul recognized in him what I needed in me.

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