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“I’m going to have so much fun with you,” he whispers breathlessly, stepping closer, practically up against me.
He runs his fingers down my cheek, watching his own movements with rapt fascination.
Once I realise he isn’t going to stop, I slap his hand away, my lip trembling. “I said, don’t touch me.”
He laughs like I just told the funniest joke in the world. He takes a menacing step forward, his expression hardening. My pulse races, but my breath gets trapped in my lungs when he grips my neck in an unyielding grasp. I don’t have chance to defend myself. I gasp for breath, my eyes widening when his fingers dig into my throat.
In a blind panic, I lift my hands to his wrist, my fingers digging in as hard as I can manage.
“I’m sick of little sluts like you thinking they can speak to me that way…” He huffs out a humourless laugh. “When you speak to me, remember who you are talking to. You will respect me.” He brings his face closer, his lips nearly brushing mine. I try to look away, but he doesn’t let me. “We’re going to do something about your teasing. And like a good little girl, you’re going to take it.”
He loosens his grip, and instead of using it to my advantage and running away, my eyes harden, and I spit in his face.
“Fuck you!” I croak out hoarsely.
“Oh, I will, right after I sort out that dirty mouth of yours.”
He brings his hand up, slapping me sharply around the face. I cry out, covering the sting on my cheek, stunned for a moment.
I meet his gaze, seeing a soulless monster staring back at me. I’d never even seen Darren this way—something made from nightmares—and even in my dreams, my brain always woke me up. What I am seeing is what horror movies are made from.
I didn’t need to be told twice when my mind screams at me to run. I glance at the door, to the side of me, seeing it so close yet so far away. It’s almost touchable. My feet are already moving, heading towards the door as fast as my shaky legs will take me. I don’t make it two steps before he’s pulling me back by my hair, trapping me against his hard chest.
My heart begins to race so fast I begin to feel the symptoms of a panic attack coming on. I want to be able to close my eyes and wait for someone to save me, but I know it’s never going to happen. I’m on my own. Becky was supposed to be outside, but she hasn’t come in to my rescue.
She’s gone.
Banner will come.
I don’t want to deal with what is happening. Not again. I barely survived the first time when Darren attacked me.
A choked cry for help forces itself up my throat, but nothing but a rasp of air escapes. I feel completely paralyzed with fear. I should fight, run away, but the tighter he squeezes me against his chest, the more I feel detached from my own body, utterly terrified that he’s going to kill me.
“Where are you going, Emma? I’m not finished. You tease me every week for two hours. Now you’re going to learn a lesson, but not before you satisfy me. If you please me, I might go easy with your punishment,” he growls, his breath on my ear as he pins my arms to my chest. I struggle harder, a tear falling down my cheek when he licks my earlobe.
“Get off me,” I cry out, my eyes on the door, pleading for Becky to walk in and save me.
His one hand grips my wrists to my chest, while the other slides down my chest to my stomach. Bile rises in my throat, but I swallow it back down, kicking him in the shin as he reaches the band of my jeans, his fingers teasing the waistband. He steps back with a hiss before he grips my hair once more, throwing me backwards. I put my hand out to stop the fall, but I land too hard, and I feel the burning pain in my wrist before crying out in agony.
I lift my head, blowing the hair out of my face, terrified of what will happen next. He storms over, his hands clenched into fists, and I begin to tremble, clutching my arm to my chest.
He kicks out, and I roll over from the force, grunting in pain, one I know all too well from when Darren broke a couple of ribs. I try to breathe, but the stabbing feeling in my ribs makes it hard.
Another kick to the back has me rolling on my front, coughing so hard I can’t scream out from the pain. I feel him bend down next to me, pressing my face into the hard, cold floor before spinning me around to face him and straddling me.
“Bitches like you need to learn the hard way. I’m going to enjoy this,” he whispers, his eyes glowing.
I struggle to breathe but manage to get out, “Fuck you.”
The punch he lands on the corner of my mouth has me spitting out blood. I feel weak, my vision blurring from the pain in not only my wrist but my ribs. The second punch has me drifting in and out. When I look up, fighting to stay awake, he has his fist raised. I blink when the weight of him on me is gone, finding him no longer above me.
Feeling weak, I let my head flop to the side. I struggle to get up when I see Banner punching Mr. Flint in the face—repeatedly.
He’s saved me.
“Emma, it’s going to be okay. I’ve called the police. They’re going to send an ambulance, too,” Becky whispers. I don’t look at her, unable to keep my eyes off Banner as he falls back from the punch Mr. Flint managed to get in.
I cry out, feeling a tear fall down my cheek, the sting bringing all the pain back. “Banner,” I croak out, feeling weaker by the second.
