Page 52 of Shattered Skull

I lifted my plate and drink, hoping they would cover my chest, and he grinned.

“You don’t have to hide from me, Everly.”

I had never felt so dirty in all my life. I wanted to run upstairs and shower again. My mother’s boyfriend was staring at me and making remarks that weren’t quite crude but getting there.

“You’re making me uncomfortable,” I confessed, hoping he would stop doing and saying inappropriate things.

His brows lifted, and again he grinned, obviously not caring how I felt.

“I’m serious, Will. What you’re saying and doing feels wrong.”

He got closer, his chest bumping against my plate of pizza. He ran his rough fingers across my cheek, and I sucked in a breath and pulled back.

“If you let me, I can make it feel right.”

My chest ached with anxiety. Panic scratched at my ribs as it worked its way up into my throat. I was home. I was supposed to feel safer there than I did anywhere else in the world, and yet, all I could think about was running away.

Why was he here?

Didn’t my mom see what a bad guy he was?

She was out partying and leaving her young boyfriend home with her even younger daughter. It was like something on a disgusting movie or a Netflix documentary, and in a way, I could already see how the situation was going to end. With my mother hurt and alone and me feeling guilty that I was the reason.

There was no more denying it or pretending I was seeing or hearing things that weren’t real. Will was hitting on me. He was touching me. He was saying and doing inappropriate things, and he was supposed to love my mother.

I closed my eyes, wishing I could disappear from the moment, and then I moved to the side, hoping he would let me go, and I could lock myself in my room.

That didn’t happen.

When I moved, he moved with me.

I switched to the other side, and again he followed. I looked up at him while trying to remain calm.

“Please let me go to my room.”

He didn’t budge, and for a brief second, I didn’t think he was going to. Finally, he backed up and moved to the side. I didn’t waste any time. I flew past him, my drink sloshing over the rim of my cup and spilling onto my hand, and I ran to my room, locking myself in for the rest of the night.

I didn’t eat. My stomach was too upset. Instead, I read a book until I fell asleep. I wasn’t sure how long I slept, but I woke without opening my eyes.

Lying there, I had the strangest feeling someone was watching me sleep. I ignored it, flipping onto my side. The book that was resting on my chest fell to the floor with a whispered thump. I opened my eyes at the sound, and when I did, I saw Will standing over the side of my bed.

I didn’t move.

I didn’t even breathe.

The gasp that had rushed up my throat when I saw him gawking down at me died on the back of my tongue.

He wasn’t looking at my face, so he didn’t realize I was looking up at him. Instead, he was looking at my naked thighs. My blanket had slid down, revealing my short pajama bottoms, which were pushed up enough to show my panties.

My mind screamed for me to reach down and cover myself, but I was frozen. My synapses were backfiring, and even though my brain was telling me to move, my body wasn’t responding.

He reached out with his left hand, running his rough fingertips across my thigh while he jerked off with his right. The room was silent except for his panting breaths. I closed my eyes, hoping when I opened them again, he wouldn’t be there, but instead, his finger drifted up higher, teasing the crease of my panties.

Everything rushed in then, and I snapped. Jerking away from his touch, I screamed.

“What are you doing?” I screeched.

He moved in, placing his free hand over my mouth and cutting off my breath. I panicked, getting tangled in my blanket as I kicked and moved away from him.

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