Page 42 of Forget Me Not

A shiver runs through me. If he’s insinuating what I think he is, then this man is more depraved than I could have ever imagined. “Did you touch me?”

He slithers closer, lips drawn back in a sinister grin. “How could I not?”

My stomach lurches as I gag on the rising vomit. “Oh my God!” I shout in revulsion. “You’re fucking sick!”

“If I’m sick, it’s because you’ve made me this way. The moment I saw you, I fell ill.”

One more swift tug and I’m finally free of his grip. I hurriedly grab the handle of my door and turn it. With a forceful push, I shove it open and throw myself inside. Only, I don’t enter alone.

“Get out!” I shout with a stern finger pointed down the hall. “Get out now or I will scream at the top of my lungs!”

“No, you won’t,” Alaric retorts coyly, closing the door behind him. “You scream, I’ll tell everyone in this house who you really are—a lying thief. You try to run, I’ll follow you. If you so much as open that pretty mouth and mention a single word of this, I will take you somewhere no one will ever find you.” His hand pinches my chin as I try to force my body not to fold into a ball under his intense gaze. “Do you understand?”

Fear isn’t something that happens to me naturally. I’ve been in countless situations where I should have been scared but wasn’t. I’ve always considered myself a warrior because I’m able to walk into the darkness and come out unscathed without an ounce of worry for what could happen to me. I guess when you feel like you don’t have anything to live for, you’re not afraid of dying. Therefore, panic is a waste of time.

But right now, I am terrified. It’s as if I’m staring down a black tunnel and there is no way out. Maybe it’s because for the first time ever, this town has made me feel alive. It’s nothing special. Just a dot on the map. But the people here make me feel welcome and part of their community. I’ve never had that before.

“I said,'' he begins slowly. “Do. You. Understand?”

I could nod and be compliant. Give him a polite, ‘yes, sir.’ But that’s not me and I don’t care how scared I am, I will never again cower to a man or let him overpower me—physically or mentally.

“Fuck you,” I grit out in a venomous hiss, just before a ball of spit flies from my mouth, landing directly on his cheek. He doesn't so much as flinch, but his eyes remain deadlocked on mine in a stone-cold stare.

Slowly, he raises his hand to his face, dragging his fingers down my saliva on his cheek. And when he shoves those same fingers in his mouth, sucking my spit off them, I wince.

Then in a fluid motion, he grabs my face with an iron grip, clenching as his fingertips pry my mouth open. Raising his wet fingers, he shoves them into my mouth, past my teeth, and pushes against my throat.

Relentlessly, he tips my head back, practically choking me with his fist.

I sputter and gag while my nails claw into his wrist, trying to free my airway. I attempt to clamp my teeth down on his fingers, but he only squeezes my cheeks harder.

My heart races as I frantically swing my hands, slapping at his arms to try and get his attention. My breaths come in ragged gasps as I try to decipher if I'm choking, suffocating, or merely having a panic attack.

"Say you're sorry," he grits out in a demanding tone.

I ball my fists, trembling and pounding at any part of him I can reach.

"Apologize, dammit!" he snaps at me, and I'm left with no choice but to do exactly what he asks.

"Sorry," I say in a hoarse whisper. It really sounds like more of a muffled gag and I probably could have said anything else, but he would have known regardless. My tongue pushes against his fingers and I taste the saltiness of sweat on his skin as his eyes peer down at me until they break through all of my walls and tear into my soul.

Finally, he pulls his fingers out of my mouth, and I stifle a groan. "You fucking psycho!" I curl over, spitting out the taste of him.

Alaric places a hand on my back as if to try and comfort me, when really, it just makes me want to vomit on his sleek black shoes.

“It won’t always be this way, Rhea. Your defiance will eventually turn to compliance, and I won’t need to punish you for your cruel behavior. But, mark my words, I will punish you if you step out of line. Just remember,” he bends down until his face is beside mine, “it’s better to obey than to sacrifice.”

He pats my ass before straightening his back. In an instant, I shoot up, profanities spewing from my mouth as I pound my fists to his chest, walking him backward until he’s against the wall. “You fucking psycho! I don’t know what the hell you think you’re going to get from me, but you’re not getting anything! I will never obey you. And thiswillbe the last time you ever see me!”

Suddenly, his fingers are wrapped around my throat and I’m the one being backed into the wall. He lifts with slight pressure, bringing me to the tips of my toes. “If you try to leave Lockhaven, I will hunt you down, Rhea. I will find you, and I will cage you so that you never run again. Is that really what you want?”

I shake my head no, knowing now is not the time to get argumentative. I just need to bide my time and get away from this crazy man so I can call the cops. They’ll help me. They have to.

“Good,” he says matter-of-factly. “And if you tell anyone about this,me, or us, I will punish you twice as hard. Do I make myself clear?”

I gulp, unable to mutter a word with the limited air supply I have. Instead, I just nod my head.

A smile grows on his face, widening with each passing second. “That’s my good girl.” His mouth moves toward mine and I try to turn my head, not wanting his lips anywhere near mine. Holding me in place, he kisses my cheek so hard, I can feel his teeth grind against my cheekbone.

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