Page 14 of Break for Me

My whole face heated and tears definitely started to sting my eyes. This was nothing but embarrassment. Everything about it hurt. I spent so much money on this dress and the heels just to convince myself that I could look nice enough to be on a date with somebody like him. Somebody like this fucking cocksucker. Just for it to play out this way. Just to learn that dating someone like me was never really his goal. God, it made me feel sick.

He rolled me to my back and pinned me in place again while he ran his hand over every covered part of the front of my body. He smirked at the rage-filled glare that I tried to burn through his face when that hand traveled right between my breasts on its search for other hidden weapons. When he didn’t find anything else, he stood up and ripped me off the floor with him.

“I’m going to let go of these,” he said, holding my own wrists up in front of my face. “You’re going to get your shoes on and grab that backpack that you take everywhere, then we’re going out to my car. That’s all that happens. Understand?”

I looked down the front of my body. “Can I change out of this dress first?”

He smiled. “No. I think I quite like the dress. Shoes on and get your shit. Otherwise, this won’t be fun anymore.”

He reached into his suit jacket and pulled a gun out of it. He raised it until it was only an inch or two from my forehead and I closed my eyes. It wasn’t my first time having death that close to my face, but that really wasn’t the kind of feeling that you just got used to.

eleven

JERSEY

“Jersey,” Memphis barely whispered into my ear.

Almost forgot she was with me.

She was reminding me that I wasn’t here to kill this girl, that I wasn’t allowed to kill this girl, and that I really didn’t want to kill this girl. But holy fuck, did she ever piss me off. The gun was usually just a helpful tool to insure that things went a little more smoothly in the direction that I wanted. Except seeing this little witch so close to crying that she’d had to close her eyes to hide it while she stood just on the other side of the barrel of this gun, stirred something to life in Memphis to make her speak up on this girl’s behalf.

“Move,” I said, without bothering to lower the gun.

I laughed when she went for the heels though.

“Not the fucking stabby shoes, Fancy Face. Seriously, find a different pair.”

She let out an annoyed huff when she turned back toward the backpack sitting off to the side of the door. She pulled an ancient pair of Converse high tops out and sat on the edge of the bed to pull them onto her bare feet. She glanced toward the door as soon as she had them both on.

“Don’t,” I warned. “We’re not playing this game. There’s no running, no chasing.”

She sighed again and went to the backpack to lug it onto her shoulder.

“Not a fucking sound out of you once we’re outside this door,” I said and put the gun back in its place under my left arm. She nodded and took a second to rearrange the dress that I’d nearly pushed up around her waist. She sucked in a very audible breath when I grabbed her hand and laced my fingers through hers to pull her outside.

“Relax,” I said quietly. “I’m just picking you up for a date, remember? Couples hold hands.”

“Couples hold hands,” she repeated. “Sure, but Satan probably doesn’t bother holding the hands of the damned before he steals their souls.”

Satan.

Now that was funny as we walked toward my car.

I stopped just beside the passenger’s side front door and held out my other hand until she gave me the strap of her backpack. I placed her bag in the front seat and grabbed her hand again once I’d closed that door. I pushed the button on the key fob in my pocket for the hatch to spring open.

“You’re joking,” she said, and planted her feet.

“I’m not.”

I dragged her the rest of the way to the back of the car.

“Come on. This can’t be necessary. I’m already just going with you willingly,” she said.

“Shoes off.”

“What?” She asked and tried to even take a step back away from me.

“Shoes. Off.” I repeated like she was a dumbass.

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