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I used to think I’d be strong enough to survive being violated, but it hasn’t even happened yet, and I know I’m wrong.
I can’t think as my body floods with warmth. I don’t know why Lennox did this.Does he hate me that much? Is he that upset that I said I was thinking about Kit when we fucked?
Because god, it wasn’t true.
Every second with Lennox felt like a betrayal to Kit. Even though I ended things with Kit and then ensured he saw what I did so he’d hate me. I did it so he wouldn’t hope. So he would never be willing to take me back. So that chapter of my life would be closed and could never be opened again. I did it to let Kit go, to stop our hearts from wishing.
But when it came down to it, I only thought of Lennox when I was with him. And as much as I loved Kit, Lennox is the one I fantasize about fucking again.
And now he has proof of that—he has my journal.
Fuck, that strikes more fear in me than being tied up.When I haven’t been thinking about how so many people I care about are at risk of dying because of me these last few days, my mind has been fantasizing about being tied up, spanked, and degraded by Lennox. It’s the only thing that can pull me away from my painful thoughts.
I start breathing faster, my eyes never tearing from the door. With each second that passes, it makes me think it’s not a sick joke. I realize he isn’t going to just open the door and come back in and untie me or fuck me.
My breathing is quick and shallow. I’m not getting enough oxygen, which is only making things worse. My heart is beating out of my chest. I flinch at every sound I hear outside the door. Any second, the door will open, and a monster will come in.
Fuck Lennox. Fuck him.
When I get out of here, I’m going to kill him. I don’t care about the consequences. I don’t care that Vincent will only make me marry again, and the next man could be worse. I—
I stare at the door.
And it hits me all at once.
Just like before.
Lennox is protecting me.
But this time, he’s doing it with a lesson—a ruthless lesson.
No one is coming in.
No one is going to hurt me.
No one is going to touch me.
I take a deep breath. Then another and another.
I feel my pulse slowing. My body calms as I get more and more oxygen.
I can control my fear.I’ve always been able to control my fear. I had forgotten.
My shoulders relax as that thought creeps in.
I can control my fear.
I can’t control what happens to me. I can’t control what happens to others, but I can control how I react.
I’m not afraid of death or pain. And all those bodily reactions were as much about being turned on by Lennox as it was about fear. And even if my body reacts to the fear, I still have control of my mind.
I wiggle my arms against the fabric and am able to inch my wrist up.
And I can get free.
I take my time, thinking about how I can get my arms loose. I wiggle and move my wrists methodically until I slip one free.
I grin.
