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My world falls away as the boy I love steps into the ring. The crowd goes wild, the noise deafening. I feel Warren grow rigid behind me, his grip on my hip painful.
He dips his ear to my mouth. “Do you still want him, baby?” His hand slides down to the waistband of the skirt he insisted I wear. “Does seeing him like this get you wet?”
Oh God.
This is his grand plan.
Maybe it was his plan all along.
I press my thighs together, trying to keep him out, but it’s futile. His big fingers sink into my panties and find my pussy.
The fight starts, and I’m powerless but to stand there watching the boy I love while the boy I hate finger fucks me into submission. By the time I clench around his digits, coming in intense waves, Warren is hard at my ass. I feel his cock digging into me, grinding against me.
And I know.
He’s not going to let me off this time.
For a second, I think about screaming. I think about letting all the pain and fear and anger rip from my lungs and alerting the crowd to my predicament. But I can’t do it.
I can’t betray Conner and his family.
Warren picks me up like a rag doll and spins me around, pressing me against the dirty wall. His fingers are wild and callous as he pushes and pulls at my skirt, my panties. He grabs my tear-stricken face, forcing me to look at him.
“I want you to watch him, Ken. Watch that fucker bleed while I fuck him right out of you. You think I don’t know he touched you? You think I don’t know that you let him inside this greedy little pussy.” He drags his cock through my wetness. “I know everything. Every single fucking thing. And now it’s time to pay, baby.” He slams inside me, and I swallow a pained cry. I hate that he takes me bare—he always has, but if I’m forced to do this, I’d much prefer there be a barrier between us.
It hurts. It hurts so fucking much as he fucks me with abandon. He grabs my throat, pinning my head in place, giving me no choice but to watch as Conner unleashes on his opponent. A whimper of pain spills from my lips and Warren chuckles darkly, licking the tears from my cheeks.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he grits out, fucking me like he hates me.
And maybe he does.
But his hate is laced with his fucked-up brand of love, the two inexplicably linked.
What I feel for Warren is darker than hate.
And I realize in that moment that this is never going to end. Either Warren will kill me...
Or I’ll have to kill him. If only I could.
The next day at school, I’m numb.
I barely slept a wink, too sore and broken to find peace. Warren didn’t have that problem. The second his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.
I guess sweet victory did that to a guy.
He’d won.
He’d finally broken me.
The only thing that could have made last night worse was Conner spotting us in the shadows. And even then, I would have found comfort in his eyes as Warren brutalized me against that wall.
He’d made me bleed. When I fled to the bathroom after we got back to the trailer and I scrubbed my skin in the shower, I found cuts and bruises on my thighs and hips.
Totally defeated, I’d slid down the wall until my ass hit the shower tray, insides sore and tender with every movement, and sat there and cried into the stream of water.
I’m exhausted, and I don’t want to be in class.
But it’s better than being at the trailer.
