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When I'm done washing my face, I exit the bathroom and make my way down the hallway to the top of the stairs. Before I leave the second floor, I peek over my shoulder, noting the bedroom door is still shut.
Must be having some kind of meeting in there. Or maybe they're really fighting. Who knows. I need to get as far away from them as I can before I fall on my back and let them do something more, like fuck me senseless. God, that would be delicious. I finally get to the bottom of the stairs and blow out a breath. I half expected Arrow and Shepp to follow me down with an angry Jericho on their heels.
My eyes scan the rambunctious crowd, still dancing against one another. Some plant their lips on their partners. Others grind so hard it’s like they’re practically having sex on the dance floor.
Through the crowd, I attempt to find Jenni, who should stand out like a sore thumb with her red hair and tall stature, but she doesn’t emerge. I don’t blame her. She probably has more important things to do, like Elias. Half of me wants to march back upstairs and rummage through her father’s office for evidence. Of what, though? I have no clue. I was only instructed to keep an eye on them and relay anything of importance back. Well, nothing important has happened tonight. Kinda. Fuck. I rub at my temple as I make my way through the crowd, examining everyone around me. They’re too lost in themselves to notice I’ve disappeared or reappeared.
Good.
I make my way through the vast house, wandering away from the chaos. As I meander down the long hallway past the kitchen, a few lingering people are having conversations around me. My heart speeds up when I walk past an open door, revealing massive bookcases from floor to ceiling, lining the entire room. My favorite room in her house. I peek over my shoulder and then wander in, running my fingers over the leather-bound books. What I wouldn’t give to get lost in the pages of any of these books. For just a second to forget who I am or where I am in life. Like the book on my nightstand, begging for me to finish it. I just got to the part where she throws a giant dildo at a peeping turkey.
Why can’t I go back to that?
"Journey West."
All the saliva in my mouth dries at the sound of my name on his lips. True fear runs through me when I whirl around, facing the boy who dared to say my name. Leighton LeMaster. The boy who can’t take no for an answer. Ever. He’s relentless in his endeavors; I’ll give him that. He could seriously have most girls around school without a fight, but that wouldn’t be good enough for him. He likes the fight.
"Come on, Journey! Go out with me." I always say no.
"It's just a little kiss, Journey," he murmurs, trying to plaster his lips against mine in the hall at school. It's like the moment I slipped away from the cafeteria to escape the masses, he attacked, cornering me against the wall with his body weight. “Come on, girl. Make this easy.”
“What are you doing wandering around alone? Did they not satisfy you enough?” He saunters in, thrusting his hands into his jean pockets.
The sleazy grin on his face has my hair standing on end. His glazed-over eyes take in my body with appreciation when he advances on me more, finally stopping before my frozen body. Shit. Why can’t I fucking move from this spot and get away from him?
“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmurs, attempting to lean in for a kiss.
“Stop it, Leighton,” I grunt, pushing his face away from mine.
Finally, I move. But it wasn’t fast enough.
I have to find an exit. I peer around, looking for the door, but somehow I lost myself in the shelves, and he shut it behind us. This isn’t good. Darkness swirls in my mind, threatening to drown me in its clutches. No one understands what my monster did to me in the basement of his home, locking me away and forcing the darkness inside me to reveal itself. Turning me into the same monster I see in him. The perfect little weapon he wields on unsuspecting people.
“This is for your crimes,” my monster calmly says, smacking the side of the dangling cage I woke up in just a few minutes ago, bleary-eyed and confused as hell with my mother’s screams echoing in my head.
The last thing I remember… Crap. Bile shoots up my throat and through my lips before I can even beg for my life. Memories assault me, forcing me down the deep, dark rabbit hole of the crime I committed. I swallow down the rest of my vomit, meeting the disgusted eyes of my captor. His lips twist up, and he shakes his head.
“Please,” I beg, shaking my head. “I’ll… I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Give back what you took?” His blue eyes narrow on me, basking in the tears rolling down my reddened cheeks. “I didn’t think so, Miss West. Everyone has a price to pay, and yours is greater than money or begging. Live with the consequences of your actions.” His grin burrows into my mind as he flips off the lights, blackening the room.
How I ache to grab Leighton’s hand and break his fingers. Or punch his face to make him back off. But he never does. No matter what. Leighton LeMaster is a relentless creep, pushing himself on people.
“Come on, baby. You gave it up to those assholes. Why not me? Why’re you always denying me?” he grunts, pushing me up against the bookcase.
Vomit rests in the back of my throat when he presses his disgusting body against mine, letting me feel his attraction pushing through his jeans. Someone needs to chop it off so he can never hurt another girl again.
“Because you’re a goddamn creep!” I grunt, attempting to push him away, but he chuckles.
“Eh. I just take what I want, baby doll. What are they going to do to me? Now, open your legs for me.”
Darkness completely takes over my vision when his fingers run up my leg and then settle between them.
“What are you doing?” I growl, grabbing his wrist in my death grip. Like fuck am I letting another man take advantage of me. Never fucking again. My monster may not fuck me like this, but he finds other ways to completely screw me over. And now this man? No… he’s a boy. Only boys don’t take the word no seriously.
“Just let this happen,” he murmurs, pushing harder into my body and forcing my legs further apart.
I close my eyes at the feel of his fingers in places they shouldn’t be. Places I don’t want him to be. No matter how hard I push against him, he pushes harder back, grunting when he enters me with his fingers.
