Page 8 of Nightmare

“You little bitch.”

She slaps me again, and I snatch her wrists, pinning them to the tree above her head.

“Let me go.”

“Not until you kiss me.”

“Get fucked.”

I cock my head and shove her legs apart with my knee, pushing my hips into hers, enjoying the way her lips part when I grind my dick on her pussy.

“Kiss me.”

“No.”

“Tell me you missed me.”

“No.”

Getting real sick of that word, I hold her wrists up with one hand and take her jaw, holding her head still and pressing my forehead against hers.

Her eyes are wide open, and she’s staring at me again, studying the white paint covering the entire right side of my face, the black smudged around my eye, and the creepy red smile slashed across my mouth that matches hers.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I don’t,” she rasps. “I stopped a long time ago.”

I blink at that, pulling back a little. “You’re lying.”

“You think so?” She smirks, catching me off guard, and it’s enough to distract me from seeing her knee coming up and hitting me in the balls.

“Fucking cunt,” I growl, not at her—I’d never call her that—but at the burning pain in my dick.

I drop to my knees and cup my groin, my mouth hanging open as I try to pull some air into my lungs. Somehow managing not to puke up my intestines, I look up and search for Violet, but all I see is her back as she walks away from me.

“Violet!”

CHAPTER 4

VIOLET

I can still hear him calling my name. My heart is racing, and I can’t keep up with the thoughts running rampant through my head.

He’s back.

He’s really back and he’s come for me.

I don’t know how I feel about that.

I was supposed to have more time, more notice to prepare myself, to not be blindsided and carried away like a child in front of almost everyone we know.

Before tonight, I hadn’t planned what I’d do when this day finally came. I wasn’t ready to think about it yet, and now that it’s happening, I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to deal with him. Hitting him in the dick probably wasn’t a good start.

After I did that and walked away, I found my way to this small, abandoned cabin about a half a mile from where we were before. Now I’m sitting on the cracked front steps, remembering the time he bent me over in this very spot and fucked me while the rest of our friends partied inside.

I should have gone somewhere else. Anywhere in these woods would have been better than this place, but maybe I was hoping he’d find me.

I hear him call my name again, and a sick little thrill rushes through me when I realize he’s getting close. Knowing it won’t be long now, I pull out the joint I stashed in the side of my boot and burn the tip with the lighter I found in Atticus’s hoodie the morning after he was arrested. No one knows I carry it around with me everywhere I go, not even Andie. Or that I still sleep wearing his t-shirts and read his letters again and again when I can’t sleep.

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