Page 69 of Summer Cursed


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I’m not sure what happened with the fairgrounds or why the carnival went out of business or why they left all the rides to rot, I just know it’s been closed for a long time.

Isaac’s truck is big and loud. Stella would recognize it before she saw it, so we had to park away from the site and go the rest of the way on foot. There was one car near the entrance that I didn’t recognize, and I felt relieved that it wasn’t Stella’s.

That relief didn’t last. I heard her before I saw her. Another voice reached us as we approached, this one was a man. He was telling her she’d done a good job, and he was proud of her. She was doing what she always does and being overly modest in her saccharine voice. I’d never realized how annoying it was until now.

We finally saw them and positioned ourselves downwind of them so they wouldn’t catch our scent as we eavesdropped. They were getting impatient waiting for Ivan. The man got angry, and Stella cooed at him trying to calm him.

Isaac and I shared a look. Who the hell was this guy? The man’s hand went to the back of Stella’s neck. I saw her wince when he pulled her against him. His other hand gripped her upper arm so hard she yelped. He growled at her and she cowered.

“Where is he?” he asked, his face an inch from hers.

She lifted her free hand to his face, cupping it in her palm and running her thumb over his lips. “He’ll be here.” He must have loosened his hold on her neck because she leaned in to kiss him lightly. “And if he doesn’t show up, we’ll find him.”

When she slid her hand into his light blond hair, the man growled again and crushed his lips to hers. I smelled blood and knew he’d cut her lip. My protective instincts perked up. I felt Isaac’s too. I reached out and took his hand trying to calm us both. If we didn’t rein it in, they would sense us.

We finally calmed down when Stella moaned. She was enjoying this. Sweet, little, innocent Stella liked it rough. I would never have expected that from her. But here we were. She moaned louder when he shoved her back against the wall of the old ticket booth. The noise of her hitting it echoed through the night.

He reached under her skirt and tore off her underwear. It must have hurt because she yelped a little and he slapped her. “What did I tell you about that?” he asked her, his hand squeezing her jaw.

She smiled at him the best she could. “I’m sorry, my love. It was a surprise is all.”

My love? I thought, shooting a look at Isaac.

Using his hold on her he banged her head back against the wood. “Don’t let it happen again.”

“I won’t. I promise.” She smiled as she turned around, placing her palms on the wall.

He undid his pants and as he was lifting her skirt, I turned away. I took Isaac’s hand again as we walked back to his truck in silence. The only sounds were Stella’s moans and the man’s grunts. My stomach turned.

We didn’t speak the rest of the night. When we got back to his house, we went to our rooms, and that was that.

The next morning, we ate breakfast without talking. What we’d seen was too disturbing. Not because it was rough, but because it was Stella. Maybe that saying was true: It’s the quiet ones you need to look out for.

“What the fuck was that last night?” I asked unable to keep it in any longer.

Isaac started laughing and couldn’t seem to stop. I just stared at him in shock which made him laugh harder.

“Pull yourself together, man,” I said but my lips twitched a little. “It is weird, right? Like, it’s Stella. Stella!”

He took a breath to get himself under control. “Yeah. Who’d have thought little Stella Johnson was into rough sex.” He paused and looked thoughtful. “If I’d have known that—”

“Ew. No. Nope. Just stop right there. I am not even sure if that was rough sex. He just seemed inept. But she seemed to enjoy whatever it was. You said she’s obsessed with finding a mate, I don’t think he’s her mate. That’s the really weird part.”

He looked down at his empty plate. “This is all so fucked up. She’s kidnapping shifters and now she’s having rough sex at an abandoned carnival. Who the hell is she?”

“I don’t know. It’s like Invasion of the Body Snatchers: Shifter Edition.”

“They say finding your mate does something to you. Maybe that’s who he is, and the connection brought out new feelings in her.” He didn’t seem to believe what he was saying, but he shrugged telling me he didn’t know what else to say.

“Maybe. I mean any guess is possible at this point. I will say I can’t imagine her doing all of this for some random guy.”

“I agree. I’m thinking she found him, and she wants to give her dad that grandchild.”

I could only hope he was right, and that she really did like the pain. Normally I’d talk to her to make sure she was truly okay. But now? After all the shit she’d done, I wasn’t sure I cared.

Yeaaahh, but after loving her my entire life, I couldn’t just dismiss it that easily. If it were anyone else but her, I’d chalk it up to BDSM or rough sex and I wouldn’t care. We all have a right to our kinks.

But abusers have a way of gaslighting you into thinking it’s all your fault. That you're to blame. And fear can get you to do things you normally wouldn’t do to make the situation as stable as possible. Even if that means pretending the abuse doesn’t hurt or that you like it.

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