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My air is stolen, and my head swims in chaos as my lungs burn.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
Then just like that, the deathly grip disappears as suddenly as it appeared.
And so does Jeremy’s presence.
It vanishes in a fog of smoke.
* * *
It’s beenthree days since the cottage.
Three days of me questioning if maybe something is wrong with me.
Not only because I enjoyed what happened on the deck a bit too much and fell into every bit of the depravity Jeremy offered, but also because I’ve been on edge since.
After he nearly choked me to death—and I’m sure he did, considering the angry red marks I found around my neck when I woke up—he disappeared.
Back then, I was disoriented, not sure what was real and what was a hallucination. When I was lucid enough, I found myself lying on a sofa in front of that cozy fire in the cottage. A pair of men’s sweatpants and a hoodie were folded on the coffee table. There was also a first aid kit and some painkillers.
But there was no sign of Jeremy.
My chest still hurts thinking about how he disappeared into the night without a word. Not even a note or a text.
And I hate those emotions.
I, of all people, should know that Jeremy and I aren’t supposed to be anything.
It’s not like he was courting me for a relationship or offering me some form of a fairy tale. It was a simple arrangement to satisfy both our needs, and I have no right to feel so hurt about it.
Besides, I don’t even like Jeremy.
Behind the beautiful façade lurks a devil with a taste for blood.
Literally.
The cut on my nipple has been healing, but the one on my neck is still purple and angry, and I have to wear turtleneck tops to hide it.
The fact remains, I’ve now satisfied my curiosity and we can both move on with our lives, right?
Wrong.
I can’t help feeling that something went awry in the whole situation. Why would he have wiped me clean, massaged my sore pussy, and touched me so tenderly just so he’d nearly choke me to death after?
Because he’s dangerous and you should stay away from him,is what my mind has been telling me.
But here’s the thing—Jeremy isn’t impulsive. I know he plots things to a fault, has a methodical character, and wouldn’t have turned murderous on me just because it was on the spur of the moment.
So it doesn’t make sense for him to do that out of the blue. Especially after the way he spoke to me, provoked my darkest parts, and said he wasn’t done with me.
That one was a blatant lie.
The day after, I pretended nothing happened.
