I don’t think I’ve ever hated myself and my life more in that moment.
Moving from my breast, he trails his fingers down my stomach until he finds the waistband of my shorts.
My eyes are wide as he teases the skin. He’s really going to do it this time.
Finding my fight, my arms fly at him, my nails scratching at any bit of skin I can connect with.
“Fucking bitch,” he groans when I manage to gouge a chunk of skin from his upper arm that’s holding my mouth hostage.
His hand drops and he manages to take hold of both of my wrists and lifts them above my head.
His eyes run the length of me again before he brushes his cheek against mine. “Be a good girl and don’t scream. Well, not until you’re coming on my fingers anyway.”
His words repulse me. “What the fuck is your problem? What do you think this is going to achieve?”
“Who says I want to achieve anything?”
“You want Jake to make you captain. I can assure you that this isn’t the way to make it happen. When he finds out—”
“Which he won’t,” he warns.
“You won’t be alive long enough to play a game as a senior, let alone captain it.”
An evil smile curls at his lips.
“That’s where you’re wrong, little girl.”
“I’m fucking older than you, asshole,” I spit. “The only fucking baby here is you. You’re fucking pathetic.” I spit at him and he backs away a little in shock.
“Bitch,” he roars, backhanding me across the face. “Know you’re fucking place.”
“My place is not being terrorized in my own home by a fucking psychopath.” The last thing I want to do right now is have a conversation with him, but I figure that the longer I put off the inevitable, the more chance I have of either figuring a way out of this or someone interrupting him.
If I had normal parents, they might be likely to come and check on me, especially after how I spoke to Mom earlier but as it is, I’m sure she’s already forgotten.
His growl makes my body tremble harder.
“I’m going to fucking ruin you. Jake won’t have a choice but to do exactly what I want if he wants you alive.”
“No one gives a shit about me. Haven’t you noticed that during all your stalking?”
“Shut the fuck up. I didn’t come here to have a conversation with you.”
“Fine,” I say, glancing around the room, my eyes locking on something that might get me out of this sooner rather than later. “Do your worst.”
“I fucking knew you wanted me.” His hand loosens on my wrists allowing me to slip one way while the other plunges into my panties. “Oh, baby. So wet for me.”
I fight not to retch as his fingers graze my clit. While he’s distracted, I reach out, grabbing the cup I keep my toothbrush in and with as much force as I can manage, I swing it toward his head.
“Motherfucker,” he barks, stumbling away from me and thankfully removing his touch.
I sag back against the wall, but I can’t allow myself to relax yet.
He looks back at me, blood trickling down the side of his face.
“Now get the fuck out of my house,” I demand. “Before I scream for my parents and have your ass thrown into jail.”
“Oh, baby. We both know your drugged-up parents don’t give a shit.”
I gasp. He knows.
To my amazement, he stumbles toward the door. “This isn’t over, Poore,” he spits before thankfully disappearing from the small room.
Stumbling back, I crash against the wall and slide down until my ass hits the floor.
My adrenaline runs out and I drop my head into my arms and sob. My entire body trembles with the fear I still feel with the disgust.
He was in here watching and listening to me with Zayn. He was waiting for me. Waiting to… I can’t even allow myself to think about what his intentions might have been.
He knows about my parents, which means he probably knows that he could get away with almost anything without alerting them.
Suddenly, I think of the ladder that Zayn moved away from the house to stop people coming up and I jump to my feet. If that’s gone then how did he get out?
I stand in the doorway to my en suite, my body exposed and stare at my open bedroom door.
He just walked straight through my house after that. What if someone saw him?
Without allowing myself to think about the answer, I race over, close my door and flip the lock again.
Pulling my ruined tank around me, I suck in deep lungfuls of air, trying to calm myself down.
Okay, so he touched me, he hurt me, but I’m okay. I’ll be okay.
After closing and locking the balcony doors, I tell myself never to open them again and strip out of my clothes, dropping it all in the trash. I’ll never be able to wear any of it again without seeing his evil eyes and feel his bruising touch.
I turn the shower on hot and step under, allowing it to burn my skin. To singe his touch from me, to banish his scent that’s clinging to my skin.
Sinking down to the floor once more, I wrap my arms around my legs as silent tears drop.
I want to call Zayn. I want to feel his arms around me and have his scent in my nose, reminding me that I’m safe, but as I walk from my bathroom, my body still trembling, I don’t reach for my phone.
I sent him away for a reason. I need to be stronger than breaking my resolve only an hour later because Preston decided to pounce.
I’m in a daze as I pull on a fresh set of pajamas and crawl into bed. I curl into a ball and torture myself by reliving the events of tonight over and over.
Alarm bells should have gone off when Zayn mentioned the ladder, but that thing has been tucked alongside the fence for years, I just assumed he’d made use of it. I had no reason to believe that he was the second one to let himself in while I slept.
Thanks to my afternoon nap, it meant that I laid there tossing and turning for hours while being tormented by the memory of Preston’s cold eyes and evil touch.
When my alarm went off this morning, I swear I’d only just fallen asleep. My eyes are still heavy and my muscles ache as I drag my ass toward my next class.
I haven’t seen or heard from Preston, thank God. I know he’s in school though. I’ve heard others talking about the fight he had last night and how the guy he fought is apparently fighting for his life in the hospital. I refrain from informing the gossips that it’s all a load of bullshit. No one would believe me if I even tried.
He’s still weirdly absent by the time lunch rolls around, but I know he’s just in the shadows waiting somewhere, so just like yesterday, I take myself to the back of the library.
It’s busier than the day before but I find an empty aisle and dump my stuff on the floor, ready to wait out the lunch break until I can go to class and then hide at home, with my doors locked tonight.
Pulling out my cell, I find a message from Harley asking if I’m coming to the cafeteria for lunch. I quickly tap out a lie that I’m still in class working on an assignment, before reluctantly opening the stream of messages I have from Zayn that I’ve been ignoring.
He starts off with an apology for last night, promising me that he’ll back off, but also that he misses me. He tells me what work he’s got to do today and explains how bored he is alone.