Page 37 of Lessons in Cruelty

Then he grabs my face in his hand and sinks his fingers between my teeth, forcing my mouth open.

“I don’t want your fucking pie.”

I try to turn my face, but he follows, shoving the filling between my lips and cupping his hand over my mouth so I can’t spit it out.

I mean, I was going to eat it, anyway. I’d already scraped anything weird off it. But having pie forced down your throat just isn’t the same. Especially when someone else has chewed it already.

I gag, then retch, but he’s always been stronger than me.

Older. Bigger.

Meaner.

When I start choking and he still doesn’t let go, a flip switches in my brain.

I kept letting him get close because I still think of him as a friend. But the primal parts of my brain have finally accepted that this Kai isn’t the same Kai I remember.

But he’s too close. I can’t even lift my knee.

So I worm a hand between us, and I grab his balls.

At least, I try to. I mean, it’s dark. We’re struggling. And in my defense, while I have a lot of practice grabbing life by the balls, those same principles don’t seem to work on Kai.

I end up with his dick in my hands.

Which isn’t limp.

Sure, it’s not rock hard either. Until I grab it.

We’re both so surprised that his hand falls away from my mouth and I just stare up at him, lips agape, pie filling oozing over my lips.

“Oh, yeah?” he murmurs, voice dropping low. “Pie not doing it for you, baby? Want me to put something else in your mouth?”

I spit said pie into his face, more as an act of defiance than self defense. But it works both ways, because it gets in his eyes.

“Fuck!” When he staggers back, I slide out from under him and race around the car.

I could have bolted into the street, but in a race between me and Kai, I didn’t stand a chance when I was five. I sure as fuck don’t stand a chance now.

My keys jingle and jangle in my hand like a goddamn tambourine, but I force them to do what the fuck they’re told. I jam the key in the lock and turn, and I get that door open.

Only to have Kai slam it closed.

Thankfully, before any part of my body was inside the car, else he might have severed it.

A sticky hand grabs my hair, wrenching me back.

I scream, and get a hand slapped over my mouth for my efforts.

Lights whirl in my vision as Kai drags me to the side, the front of my body pressed to the car. He tries to keep me caged in, one hand to cut off any sound of protest, the other hunting for the car’s back passenger door handle.

As soon as I realize he wants to get me in there, a surge of adrenaline floods my veins.

I struggle with renewed vigor, twisting and writhing and bucking until his sticky hand slides off my mouth.

This time, when I scream, it’s with all the air in my lungs.

He grabs the back of my uniform, pulls me away from the car, and then slams me back.