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EMILY
I thought about Chris on my way to work the next day.
More specifically, I thought about how he had murdered someone in cold blood and then just stopped by the pawnshop like it was nothing. Angel hadn’t exactly given me the details of the attack, but he didn’t need to. My mind filled in all the gruesome particulars, like him chopping off the guy’s head or stabbing him and watching him bleed out, all while mocking him for his suffering.
And then I thought about him touching me, his large hands encircling my wrists and my body responding with my heart-pounding desire. I thought about his icy gaze and the heated things it did to my body. Forbidden sensations sparked the desire that slithered through my body.
Even more so, I thought about the dream I had last night. I should have known I would dream of him after everything that happened that day. I should have prepared myself for it, but I didn’t.
In the dream, I was lying stark naked in bed with both hands secured by chains to the headrest. I couldn’t do much except squirm as his finger brushed over my skin, stopping to tease my nipples. I cried out, asking him to stop even as desire climbed and built like a storm inside me. I bit my lips, undulating against the sheets as wetness started to drip out of my pussy, staining my thighs with evidence of my depravity.
I was being touched by the enemy. And I loved it.
And then, when his hands had slowly traveled down my body to finally touch my clit, I cried out in relief. He’d rubbed it only a few times before he pulled away.
“Open your eyes,” his deep voice ordered.
I obeyed, but when I did, it was to the horrifying sight of blood dripping from his hands.
I woke up screaming and feeling like an idiot.
I still felt like that now.
It was a recurring theme in my life, and honestly, I didn’t even know what my problem was at this point. I didn’t know why I only fell for men who were not only horrible people in general but who could also seriously hurt me. Maybe I was some kind of masochist. Maybe I secretly didn’t believe I deserved love, and I self-sabotaged by putting myself in the path of men who only used and abused me.
That had to be it, which was probably why my entire life had been a series of getting in and out of trouble.
No. Your life is like that because you were set up for failure from the very beginning.
I sighed at the reminder. It was true. I had an absent father and a mother who barely cared if I ate or not before completely taking off with a guy who was ten years her junior from some band. That happened when I was sixteen because she determined I was old enough at that point to take care of myself. And my dad didn’t answer any of my calls.
So, then, I was all alone, left to do a lot of shitty things to survive. As well as rely on shitty people.
And now, here I was, on the run with a rap sheet longer than most other twenty-five-year-olds and putting myself in the path of a murderer because it was the only way the police would protect me from the consequences of my own actions.
“Good morning,” Chelsea called out as I walked into the pawnshop. She smiled cheerily at me, and I blinked, wondering why she was in such a good mood this morning.
“Hey,” I said, dropping my bag behind the counter. “Did something good happen?”
She nodded frantically. “Yup.” She jogged over to where I was standing and thrust her hand in my face. A glittery diamond shone from her ring finger, and the shine was matched only by the beam on her face.
When I realized what she was telling me, I clapped my hands together and grinned back at her. “Oh my gosh. Congrats, Chelsea. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you!” she sang and then tittered a little before continuing, “Eric popped the question last night. I came home super stressed out after the day we had and told him about everything. Then, while I was in the middle of telling him all about my day, he goes, ‘Shut up and turn around, will you?’ and then I spin around, and he’s right there on his knee, asking me to marry him!”
She squeals again, and I have to smile at her exuberance. Marriage wasn’t really something I’ve ever thought about or looked forward to, but I was happy someone else was seeing their dream fulfilled.
Dreams. Did I even have those?
“I’m so happy for you,” I said again. “When is the wedding?”
“Oh, in like a few months from now.” She rolled her eyes and cracked her neck. “It’s so much to do, though, and there are so many people who need to be called. Planning a wedding is hard work, you know?”
“Yeah,” I reply, but I honestly wouldn’t know though.
“Anyway, I just handed in my two weeks, so I need to get you trained enough so you can train the new girl coming in.”
At those words, all my good humor vanished. “Wait, you’re quitting?”
