“No!” I screamed, using my fists on his back.
It didn’t seem to do anything to him.
Tears fell down my cheeks as he flipped me over. I was on my back on the bed, and he rested his heavy weight on top of me.
I closed my eyes and tried to buckle him off of me.
He grabbed my wrists in one hand and held them up above my head. I had on nothing but what I had gone to bed in, my panties and one of his t-shirts.
I would have taken it off if it weren’t the only thing offering me some semblance of protection against him right now. It wasn’t much.
I might as well be naked with the way I was feeling, and I wished I had more clothing on, if only to protect myself from this brute of a man.
Tears seeped out of my closed eyelid.
“Open your eyes, Ryleigh girl,” he said, speaking for the first time since I woke up.
I shook my head, trying to hold on to my composure.
Then I realized there was no room for pride when you’re fucking scared shitless.
I burst into tears.
“Shit,” I heard him muttering on top of me.
He shifted us then, until he was on the bottom, and I was on top, one hand cupping the back of my head, holding me to his chest, and the other on my butt cheek.
I shouldn’t take comfort in the position.
I should have wanted to get as far away from him as possible. Instead, I reveled in the closeness, curling into him as I cried into his chest. I wasn’t crying out of fear anymore, but sadness.
Sadness for the fact that the man I thought was mine, and the love story I thought was so great, was nothing more than an illusion, concocted by a man who hated my guts.
He tightened his arms around me when my sobs got louder.
I didn’t care to be quiet.
I didn’t care about anything anymore.
The man drugged me, abducted me, and brought me back to a remote cabin. I was allowed to cry as loud as I wanted.
“Baby, you’re going to make yourself sick, crying like this.”
I pulled back and glared at him. Though the fear wasn’t gone completely, it was pushed to the background in place of my annoyance.
“I’ll cry as much as I want,” I said, my voice thick from the tears.
His lips twitched suspiciously. If he laughed at me now, I might just slap him. After a moment, he relaxed his hold against me and pushed my head back down to his chest. I should not have complied, but looking at him was starting to hurt my heart, and I didn’t want him to see.
“Alright,” he conceded. “Cry for as long, as loud, and as hard as you need.”
“That’s so generous of you,” I muttered sarcastically, but now I didn’t feel like crying as much. I kept my head on his chest and looked off to the side of the room. The occasional tears would slip past my eyelids and down to his chest, but even those started to dry after a short while, and I didn’t know what to do next.
I didn’t know how to handle this man, and what was more, I didn’t want to.
I shut my eyes, shutting out the world, focusing on nothing but the steady strum of his heartbeat. My eyes grew heavy, and before I could stop myself, I had fallen asleep.
I didn’t think I would have been able to fall asleep like this—in his arms—but I did, and I vaguely remembered him placing me back down on the bed and pulling the covers over me.
