Page 95 of Contempt

He did push me up beside the lockers at school when he was sober, though.

There were people around then, and I still wasn’t sure what was going to happen. What might have happened if Malek hadn’t intervened.

Malek.

He said he was going to Malek’s, but that was obviously a lie.

I need to get my phone or Landon’s phone. Somebody’s phone. I can’t call the police this time, but if I can get away from Landon long enough to make a call…

Malek will come. Not for me, but to save his cousin from doing something stupid. I don’t care about his bullshit motivation, I only care that he intervenes.

While my mind is racing for a way out, Landon sits there watching me. He notices my tongue dart out to wet my dry lips.

“Thirsty?” He grabs the smoothie, pushes the straw to my side of the cup, then guides it to my lips.

I seal them.

“Oh, come on. Antonia went to all the trouble of making it for you. Seems a shame for it to go to waste.”

Still, I keep my lips closed.

His gaze hardens. “Open your fucking mouth, Parker, before I open it for you.”

My heart sinks. I swallow past the lump in my throat and tentatively take the straw between my lips.

I hate him watching me take a sip.

And when the flavor hits my tongue, it’s off.

My heart starts to pound harder. What did he put in my drink? I wouldn’t accept a drink at a party from him, so I probably shouldn’t take another drink from this smoothie, either.

Panic begins to shut down my brain, but I fight to keep it working for me. My brain is the only advantage I have over him. Physically, all the odds are in his favor.

Where should we order in from?

I can’t speak, but my brain tells me to say it.

Take control of the conversation. Guide him away from whatever he wants to do. That’s probably bad, so push him elsewhere like you did at the club.

But I can’t move. I’m too fucking afraid, and all I can think about is what’s in the smoothie? Why did he need to put something in my smoothie? If I ask, will he tell me?

I only took one sip, so I should be okay, right? It would take more than one sip…

Before my panic can overwhelm me, Landon pulls the straw to the side of the cup nearest him and takes a draw.

I sag against the lounger with relief. He’s not going to drughimself.

Amusement tugs at his full lips when he notices my relief. “Needed a little rum,” he says lightly. Setting the drink back down on the table, he says conversationally, “What, were you afraid I was going to drug you?”

I don’t answer, and he doesn’t seem to mind.

He shakes his head, answering me anyway. “I wouldn’t do that.” For the briefest blip of a heartbeat, I think he’s saying something decent, but then he adds, “I’d want you to be awake and completely conscious to experience whatever I’m doing to you.”

Wow.

It’s hard to take that more than one way.

My plan to call Malek starts to slip from my fingers, every system in my body working overtime to convey just one message: run.

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