Page 3 of Taking

I’m strong. Resilient.

Lies, but I needed them in order to survive.

My attempt to stomp on his foot with my heel scuttled us sideways into the bathroom wall, knocking a painting to the tile floor. “No!”

The pressure from his hands holding me intensified to the point I cried out from the pain. “First, you’re going to grow your hair back out so I have something to grip while making love to you.”

“Let me go!”

“And you’re going to start wearing all that sparkly makeup like when you were fifteen so you look young again.”

I screamed my rage at the memories crashing into my mind and attempted to bite his arm. He wrenched me around, holding my back against his hard chest, his face pressed to my neck so I couldn’t headbutt him. My chest ached as my lungs fought to draw breath.

“You’ll obey my rules—or I’ll leave you with nothing,” he hissed, his breath hot on my ear. “No house. No money. No place to call your home. You’ll be penniless without me.”

“D-Don’t care.” I yanked my arms hard enough that his fingertips marked my skin, his threats no longer heavy enough to make me care about the outcome. “Let me go!”

“Never,” he growled—and bit my damn lobe.

“Stop!” I shrieked at the zing rushing to my core that caused me to tremble with shame. I twisted and attempted to turn to escape what I didn’t want, but his hold proved relentless.

Those fantasies I’d had as a teenager about being tied up? Taken by force?

Lloyd had obliterated them to the pits of hell even though his bruising touch had roused my body to life every damn time.

I feared the dark. Feared the thought of blindfolds, of ropes, of being restrained in any way—

“You’re going to dress like a slut again, not this matronly pants and blouse shit. I want you teasing me with your short skirts and tight shirts showing off these gorgeous tits…” He licked the shell of my ear and squeezed my breast hard enough I gasped—against the pain and the beginnings of arousal I hadn’t felt in years.

Sick—I’m so damn sick.

“Obey me, and I’ll give you the world.”

Lloyd had attempted to “give me the world” once before, and all I’d ended up with was bouts of depression that lasted for months on end and nightmares that continued to haunt me three years after escaping him. The type of PTSD flare ups that hindered my ability to trust others and make friends.

“Give in, Addilyn. You’ll never be free of me.”

I knew from past experience the only option I had was to relax and let him have his way. The first, I could do. I’d promised myself the second wouldn’t ever happen again.

One day…someday, I would make him pay for stealing my innocence.

Letting out a heavy exhale, I forced my instincts I’d grown back in my time away from him to quiet so I could go limp in his arms. I allowed Lloyd to hold me like he was my everything—what the sick fuck had always lusted after and never accomplished no matter how hard he’d tried.

I had claimed no man would break me again like he’d done. And while I had escaped him physically, the sickness he’d intensified in me remained—but I refused to bend to my weakness.

“There’s my sweetheart,” he murmured, gently turning me to face him once more.

Dark eyes, full of want peered down at me as he smiled.

My stomach heaved, but I swallowed the bile down, chin lifting.

I am strong.

My lips rose—and I jerked my knee upward with every bit of strength I possessed.

“Ah!” Lloyd let out harsh grunt and jerked backward into the hallway, hands dropping to cup his nuts I’d attempted to cave in. Too bad I didn’t have a knife to slice them off. Bent over like he was, I didn’t hesitate.

I used my knee again but smashed it up into his face. He topped over backward, blood spurting from his nose. Satisfaction coursed through me at his groan.

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