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Shock registers on her face, and she recoils. “You’re disgusting.”
I laugh, a deep, hollow sound that fills the car. “And yet, you’re stuck with me.”
I can see her struggling with her emotions, fear, and anger, battling for dominance. After several moments of silence, she finally speaks, “What do you want from me?”
I shrug, my gaze focused on the road ahead. “What do I want?” I chuckle. “Isn’t it obvious, starlight? I want your fear. I want your desperation. I want you to feel the same hopelessness the world has forced upon me.” I look at her, my gaze unflinching. “You’re mine to do with as I want.”
The colour drains from her face as she takes in my words. “You’re a monster,” she whispers, her voice shaky.
I don’t respond. After all, Lila isn’t wrong. But in this world, it’s either be a monster or be devoured by one. And I made my choice long ago.
6
LILA
The rain is relentless. A torrential downpour batters against the windscreen with an almost deafening force. The wipers work furiously, but they’re no match for the deluge, struggling to clear the water that sheets down in thick rivulets.
Icy hailstones join the cacophony, drumming against the car’s roof in a harsh symphony. The headlights barely penetrate the darkness, illuminating only a short stretch ahead. Occasionally, a vicious gust of wind sends us swerving, the tires skidding on the slick, rain-soaked asphalt. I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles white. It’s me, Ash, and the storm. I’ve never felt so alone.
Suddenly, the dim glow of the headlights falls upon an obstacle in our path. My heart skips a beat as I realize it’s a roadblock. A massive tree has fallen, its thick branches barring our way forward. I hit the brakes, the car screeching to a halt just in time.
Ash stirs from sleep, roused by the sudden stop. His gaze immediately goes to the obstruction illuminated by the headlights, and he curses loudly. “Fuck!” His voice ricochets offthe car’s interior, almost drowning out the storm outside. The sudden burst of anger is palpable.
“We could turn back and try another route,” I suggest, my voice barely audible over the storm’s roar.
Ash looks at me, his expression unreadable, and then he reaches for the glove compartment, pulling out an old, weather-stained map. His fingers trace the roads, calculating the detour. His jaw clenches, a sure sign of annoyance. “The detour will add an entire day and night’s drive,” he declares, shoving the map back into the compartment in frustration. “We can’t afford that. We’ll have to detour into the woods, find high ground, and wait for someone to clear the road.” His tone leaves no room for argument.
“Take the path up there,” he points to an old, worn-out dust track heading into the woods to the left of the fallen tree.
I put the car in gear, my hands trembling slightly as I drive onto the narrow dirt track. The path ahead is shrouded in darkness, the car’s headlights barely penetrating the dense tree canopy. Each twist and turn of the path sends a fresh wave of anxiety through me. The unsettling crunch of gravel beneath the tires and the occasional scrape of low-hanging branches against the car’s body is the only sound apart from the persistent rain drumming on the roof.
After what feels like an eternity, Ash instructs me to stop. “Here,” he says, pointing toward a small clearing visible through the rain-soaked windshield. It’s a flat piece of land surrounded by tall trees that provide a semblance of shelter from the relentless storm.
I park the car, cutting the engine and leaving us in an unnerving silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic pattern of rain on the rooftop.
Ash is out of the car before I can speak, his silhouette swallowed by the darkness as he unloads my blankets fromthe trunk. He’s soaked to the skin when he climbs back in, his hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping from his clothes onto the leather seats. Without a word, Ash rearranges the backseats, folding them to make space. His efficiency is terrifying as he spreads the blankets, creating a makeshift bed in the back of my Subaru Outback.
“Get in,” he instructs, his voice stern.
Shivering, I awkwardly clamber into the back, my heart pounding against my ribs. He slides in beside me, his body radiating heat.
I can hear the catch in his breath as he states the unthinkable. “We need to strip down. Skin-to-skin contact is the best way to keep warm.”
“No way!” The idea of this psycho pressed naked against me makes me hot for all the wrong reasons.
“This is survival, starlight,” he tells me. Despite my protests, Ash’s determination doesn’t wane. His voice drops to an icy whisper, a dangerous undertone that paralyzes me in fear. “Don’t make me get my knife and cut the dress off you.” The threat hangs in the air, as chilling as the storm outside. He won’t take no for an answer.
I slide out of my dress and shiver as I sit there in nothing but a bra and panties.
“Take those off, too,” he demands.
I glare at him. “There’s no need.”
“What did I tell you?” He pulls the knife from his pocket and points it at me. “Take them off.”
I remove my bra, and he groans when he sees my breasts. His eyes darken with desire as he stares at my exposed chest. “Damn, starlight,” he murmurs, the roughness in his voice sending chills down my spine. “You’re perfect.” His gaze is fixated on my breasts, making me shudder. “Just look at those...perfect size, perfect shape,” he breathes, his voice dropping an octave lower.
The words are like fingers, tracing a path down my body, igniting a fire I never knew existed. And suddenly, I don’t even feel reluctant to take my panties off.
