Page 103 of Concealed

“Maybe you should be thinking about how you can make it up to me,” Matt suggests. “What you did is really unforgivable, and you should want to at least try and redeem yourself.”

Matt comes closer, forcing me to step back and press myself into the wall.

There’s nowhere to go.

“Did you fuck your ‘friend,’ Rebecca?”

“No,” I lie, my voice still several octaves higher than it needs to be.

Please, God, let someone hear me and call the cops. And more importantly, let them believe me and give Matt the punishment he deserves.

Matt’s hand grips my jaw with crushing force. “Stop screaming. And I’ll be able to tell if your pussy has been tampered with. So come with me, and I’ll check. You better hope you’re not lying, or you’ll be very, very sorry.”

I grab the frying pan on the stove, but I don’t have enough leverage. It hits Matt’s shoulder but isn’t enough to do any real damage.

But it was enough to stun him, his grip momentarily loosening.

I’ll take any advantage I can get. I quickly push past him and run for all I’m worth. My hand is on the front doorknob when he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me backward.

“No! Don’t touch me! Don’t fucking touch me! I do not consent!” I scream the words over and over, making it clear that if he proceeds, it’s rape.

There isn’t any time for pretending or keeping him calm – that ship has beyond sailed. And there’s no way I can lay there and take it, not anymore, so I need to fight.

He drags me kicking and screaming to the bedroom, each step making my stomach drop even lower.

This can’t be happening.

I thought that I’d have a little bit of time before he did anything to me. He’s supposed to carry on pretending everything is fine to mind fuck me, and then make his move when I least expect it.

That’s the kind of game he loves most.

But the rage isn’t letting him wait.

Matt throws me on the bed, and I start to jump off when he pulls a gun from the waistband of his jeans.

“Keep still, Rebecca. You’re going to be a good girl and do exactly what I say.”

It’s certain now.

Tonight is the night I die.

Chapter 23

Wyatt

Paniccombinedwithimpotenceroars through me when I walk into my place, which I was just starting to think of as “ours.” I mean, I only lived here for a day longer than Rebecca did.

The mess confirms exactly what I suspected.

There is broken glass and spilled wine all over the floor, as though Matt accosted her inside the house. If Rebecca would go on record saying he broke into our place, at least that’s something we have him on.

It’s not unheard of for women to return to their abusers, and they have their reasons for it.

But that’s not what happened here.

Rebecca was planning to come home and make us dinner, not go back to her life with an abusive ex-boyfriend.

Sending her a text doesn’t elicit a response, and I’m not surprised. Chances are, she doesn’t have her phone. Matt knows it’s her lifeline to a support network that can save her.

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