Page 196 of I’m The Worst

My stomach lurches. “Stop! You’re hurting him!” Terror and rage twist together in my chest until I can’t breathe.

Wolff doesn’t respond. He hauls Jackal up and throws him into the laundry room, slamming the door shut. The dog throws himself against the other side, barking, whining, scratching at the wood.

“What are you doing⁠—”

Wolff whips around and backhands me across the face, sending my head snapping sideways. I crash to the floor, and pain explodes across my cheekbone. The coppery taste of blood floods my mouth. My vision whites out for a second.

Heart pounding, I scramble back across the floor, glass cutting into my palms.

“Wolff, stop⁠—”

He reaches down and grabs my hair, dragging me across the broken glass toward the counter. Shards slice into my knees and thighs. I scream, clawing at his wrist, but he’s too strong. As he shoves me face-down over the counter, the edge digs painfully into my hips. He yanks my leggings and underwear down in one violent motion, tearing the fabric.

“Fuck you!” I thrash under him, trying to buck him off. “I hate you!”

His knee forces my legs apart. I scream again, clawing at the cabinets, trying to pull myself away, but he’s too heavy. His belt unbuckles with a metallic clink that turns my blood to ice.

“Jackal!” I scream the safeword over and over. “Jackal, Jackal, Jackal!”

His hand clamps over my mouth, muffling my cries. I bite him hard, but it only makes him angrier. He wrenches my head back by my hair and slams my face against the marble. Pain blinds me.

I go limp against the counter and slide off.

His boot slams into my ribs, flipping me onto my back. I gasp and clutch my side as he kneels over me, tearing my shirt open. I sob, kicking at him, my hands slapping uselessly against his chest.

Grabbing my wrists, he pins them above my head with crushing strength. The cold air hits my exposed skin as he forces my legs apart.

“Stop it. Please…please, stop… Wolff. I don’t want⁠—”

His hand shoots to my throat. The same hands I once trusted—that had calmed my panic attacks, that I let wrap around my neck because it was him. Now his fingers dig in painfully, cutting off my air, bruising the skin I had willingly given him.

He thrusts forward, entering me in one cruel, tearing movement.

I scream at the sharp, burning pain. My body arches away from him, but he’s too heavy, too strong. Glass shreds my back and thighs with every thrust, the sharp edges cutting deeper as my body is dragged across the floor.

This is what he threatened me with. This is the version of Wolff I always knew existed underneath…but refused to accept.

“Jackal… Jackal…” The safeword dies in my throat as the world fractures.

I’m not here anymore.

I’m back in the cage.

Birdie is sitting in the corner, small and trembling, hugging her knees. Her eyes are wide with terror as the men laugh outside the bars.

“It’s okay, Birdie,” I whisper, reaching for her through the darkness. My fingers brush hers. They’re so cold. “It will be over soon. It always is. Just close your eyes. Don’t look. It will be over soon…”

The pain fades.

Everything fades.

I’m floating somewhere far away, holding Birdie’s tiny hand while the monster above me keeps moving, keeps breaking what’s left of me.

I lie to both of us with the same words I use every time.

It’ll be over soon.

It’ll be over soon.