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I’m not sure how long passes before my bedroom door creaks open, and the sharp shriek of the rusted hinges jerks me awake.
I fell asleep. That wasn’t supposed to happen. The needles that dance under my skin while I sleep are expected to keep me alert. They never rest, never stop digging and prodding my sensitive nerves, so why this time? Why, the one night I need them, they still enough to give me comfort?
I was supposed to be on top of my shit. Alert. Ready. Now, because of my fuck-up, Jim is almost over me, his flabby meat wiggling loosely in his hold.
“I wanted to fuck you the first moment I saw you. I didn’t think I’d get to, but then I saw your sexy ass standing in that hallway, playing with that tight little pussy. After that, I knew you wanted me, too.”
Oh, God. He couldn’t be more wrong, but if this gets me what I want, then I can play. I can pretend. After all, it’s the endgame that matters, not what happens in between. Uncle will understand. He’ll forgive me. I’m only doing what must be done, just as he taught me.
It’s the Greene way.
I don’t speak when Jim hovers directly above me. I barely twitch. He doesn’t like that much. His fragile little ego needs to see me squirm. He’ll soon learn I only move for one reason. To get back to him.
Gaze slightly narrowed, I turn my head, following his movements as he begins to climb onto the bed. I see what he wants before he makes a move, and I beat him to it. Flipping on my back, I make my eyes look alive, smiling slightly at the corners to lure him in. I may be completely in over my head, but I think I can do this.
No.
Fuck that.
I know I can do this. I have to. I’m running out of options, and I’m running out of time.
Smoothing my hands up my legs, I pull the shirt over my body, exposing every inch of my flesh to his shadowed glare. Darkness swallows whatever bit of light was shining in his eyes, pitch blackness consuming him while his filthy hands explore the slight curves of my hips. Then, as if he loses all his strength, Jim drops his sweaty, clammy body on top of my slow-rising chest. For a moment, my senses short circuit, unprepared for the slimy tip of his tongue to glide across the seam of my lips.
“God, you’re so fucking sexy.” I can still smell the scent of my mother’s orgasm sitting heavily on his breath, and underneath it, the faint smell of me. It nauseates me, the heady aroma of all our flavors combined. Holding back the bile rushing past my esophagus, I open myself up for him, spreading my thighs and twirling my tongue, all to make him feel welcome.
“Oh, fuck yes, sexy girl.” Sucking my tongue between his teeth, Jim digs into me. His not-so-soft cock grows against my hole, probing my unwilling entrance. It’s easier to pretend this way, unlike when he was down my throat. I can moan for him, staring at the ceiling with a blank expression, waiting for the perfect moment.
The tip of him forces through my dryness, and I’ve decided I’ve had enough. I can’t do this again. So, with all the strength I can muster, I flip us over, straddling his waist. I have the power now, even if he thinks it’s still in his hands.
“Are you really going to take us away?” I ponder, ignoring the warmth between us.
“What do you mean, baby?”
Rolling my eyes, I ask again, trying to keep my tone sweet while I rock against his shaft. “Are you going to move us far from here? Back to your home?”Somewhere where I know nothing.Somewhere to make my mother feel safe, but me, more lost than before.
For his sake, I hope he saw the spite in my stare as I slowly drawled out the question. It’s the only warning he’s going to get.
“Oh.” He laughs, slipping inside me for a second time. “Yeah, baby. I thought having your mom around to fuck was going to be the highlight; finally give me something to come home for. But you? Man, I can’t wait to fuck this little pussy every night.”
Moans, even fake, can’t be summoned, not with the sheer amount of anger flowing through my body. It vibrates my cells, overwhelming them to the point of explosion. I can’t see. I can’t think. I can’t even fucking feel his sad, worthless little cock pumping inside me.
He doesn’t notice my lack of response, too invested in this pathetic display of affection. It’s a good thing, I guess. Now, I don’t have to be so cautious as I slide my fingers beneath the vacant pillow. Still, I keep my eyes on him as I dance my fingertips over the scratchy sheets. I’m almost there. I can practically feel the blunt wooden bottom when his overheated palm grasps my face.
A tiny gasp of shock escapes me as Jim takes my chin in his powerful grip and forces his lips onto mine. Instead of his flavor this time, I taste my own. The potency of my torment is on the tip of his tongue while he swirls it inside my mouth. I reject the meaning of it at first, disgusted by the presence of loss and failure leaking out of me, but as his excitement grows, so does mine. I won’t fail. And I’ll never, ever lose.
Not again.
Relaxing my struggle, I welcome his length digging into my belly. I even grind against him in return, enjoying the friction of our warming bodies while my fingers move again. We’re rocking with enough force to leave me marked, and the wall dented. Somehow, my mother still doesn’t come in. It makes him brave enough to run his fingers up my back, clawing my skin hard enough to draw blood. That’s what pushes me over the edge.
How dare he. I bleed for no one.
No one but him.
Unable to think through the fury coating my mind, I slide my hand underneath the pillow, grasping the handle of the kitchen knife I had stashed before, and in one jagged rip, I slice it across his extended neck. I expected panic. I even prepared for a struggle, but the smack on the side of my face as his eyes bug out of their sockets isn’t something I anticipated. The blow of it knocks me off my balance, throwing me back hard enough for my spine to collide with the edge of the old beside table as I fall to the ground.
He hisses, slapping his hands over the gushing wound across his jugular. “You stupid fucking bitch! I—I’m going to fucking kill you.” His words are almost incomprehensible with the blood filling his mouth, but I understand enough, laughing until his twitching, thrashing body rolls off the bed on top of me. Jim tries to stab his fingers through my roots, wishing to yank at my strands, but every time he lets go of that slash, more blood covers us in a gory sight.
Scurrying out from beneath him, I quickly jump on his naked chest, battling the hands wrapping around the bleeding wound until I lock them beside his head. Instantly, I’m doused in thick, warm, spurting liquid. It blinds me. It burns me, but I welcome it with open arms and a wide, gleaming smile.
