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The one who chased me.
The Thatcher Reed who’d abrasively reintroduced himself into my life today was quite different from the one who’d made my life hell years ago. They were both evil, terrible, but they were different. Thatcher today was generally demonic in the sense where he liked to play with his food before he ate it. He liked to tease, and though that was scary as shit, the twelve-year-old version of him was even worse. There’d been a blankness there whenever I looked at him, a lack of empathy and soul, and I noticed that harshly each and every time he bothered to talk to me.
“You gotta eat, snowflake,” he’d say or, “Don’t run. Don’t be stupid.”
I did run eventually. He’d been gone a long time one day, and I’d seen an opportunity. I didn’t know how my captivity would end, and my captor wasn’t providing me information. I didn’t know his endgame, and no matter how much I screamed… cried, he gave me nothing. He’d been like a shell back then with no emotion. I honest to God thought he’d kill me, so I ran.
And he caught me.
I tried not to think about that time. I’d spent many years and therapy sessions trying to get my shit right and just move on. It was a wonder I ever did anything else with my life creatively. It’d been sheer will and grit that got me through. That and my mom.
I loved my mother, and I thanked her every day for pushing me. She did what she felt she had to do to heal us both. It’d been a tumultuous time, and she’d gotten us both through it. She did despite going through her own tragedies. That was later, but she’d done that.
No fucking way was I getting into a car with Thatcher. He’d already warned me never to be alone with him after what I pulled today, and even outside of that, I wasn’t fucking stupid.
“That’s a great idea, son,” Mr. Reed said, which swiftly jolted my already racing heart. He squeezed Thatcher’s shoulder. “That’s very kind of you to offer.”
Mr. Reed clearly didn’t see that darkness in his son. Thatcher was no doubt the apple of his eye, so Mr. Reed had no problem being enthusiastic about his son’s offer. I, on the other hand, was not enthused, and before I could say hell the fuck no, the valet pulled up a sleek Audi. Thatcher immediately got the door for me, using his large frame to create a barrier between myself and his father.
“After you, snowflake.” A sharp bite deepened his voice. It made it gravelly and even more cruel than his eyes. He was giving more emotion than he had before, but the demented gleam didn’t put me at ease.
I wasn’t going anywhere with this guy, and clearly seeing that, he guided a hand behind me. I shoved but there were already so many people on this fucking street, his dad included.
At the end of the day, people still couldn’t know I was here, and my mom couldn’t know about the Thatcher complication. Again, I’d have to explain too many other things.
Even still, I couldn’t make myself get in this psychopath’s car, and Thatcher quickly noticed.
“Get. In. Snowflake.” He all but put me in his car, the seat warm, and the sweat gathered between my breasts. My boob-to-body ratio wasn’t equal, and I always sweated there when I was nervous.
Or scared.
Terror took on a new face inside Thatcher’s ride. The black interior felt like a cage, and the only ally I had was on the other side of the glass. Mr. Reed was on his phone after saying goodbye to his kid, and when his own ride pulled up, a dark Escalade, I had no more of his attention.
“Better buckle up, baby. You’re going for a ride.” Thatcher snapped his door shut after he got inside, and the cabin immediately filled with his sharp scent. I’d actually been turned on by that sea breeze aftershave he wore when we’d been at the rave.
Now, I just felt ill. Now, I wanted to scream, and before I could, Thatcher forced the gas pedal down. The car shot off like a rocket, and I grabbed the dash. “Thatcher!”
He wasn’t listening to me, and I screamed when he zipped through a stoplight. He literally stopped traffic, his Audi gliding through cars like he was some racecar driver. At least, he thought he was. I grabbed the door. “Thatcher, stop!”
I got nothing but a dark chuckle. He sped up, then shifted into manual. Apparently, the car could do both.
“Seat belt, baby,” he said, and I was nauseous. The term wasn’t endearing. Not any more than his darlings, sweethearts, or snowflakes from before. He swung his blue eyes my way. “I warned you.”
He did, but I didn’t think he’d come to collect so quickly. I figured I’d at least have his dad’s security and the ability to make a phone call for help.
My phone.
I wrestled inside my purse for it. I was obviously panicking and not thinking straight. Thatcher spotted what I was attempting in seconds and grabbed it first. Alarmed, my first instinct was thinking he’d throw it out the window.
That would have been better.
I watched in horror as he took the device and spread his legs. He shoved it directly between the seat and his cock, a sizable bulge there.
Like he was hard.
This crazy, fucking psycho was getting off on all this. He chuckled again. He only had one sharpened cross in his ear today. The other earring was a dark stud. He put his arm behind my seat. “Go for it.”
He spread his behemothly large thighs wider, and I was disgusted. I did what he said regarding the seat belt, though, and I had no choice as he slammed on the brakes. He happened to actually stop at a stoplight this time, and I didn’t want to go through the windshield.
