“I …” Tears told my truth. “Didn’t. I promise.”
“Then how do you know to tighten yourself around me just before I’m ready for release?” His eye twitched and he squinted. “Only a slut who sleeps around knows that trick.” He stood and threw my shirt at my face. “Get out. I’m done with you.”
“Wait! I can explain.” I shimmied my jeans the rest of the way up my thighs, pulled my shirt over my head, and ran to catch up with him.
As he headed up the stairs to his bedroom, he slowed and turned.
My head and shoulders slammed into the wall as he wrapped his hand around my neck.
“Well, explain.”
“I was raped.”
“Bullshit.” He squeezed; lack of air made me dizzy.
HEADACHES wererare before I started working at the bar. Since then, they were more common than I liked. My head pounded harder than any other time in the past. Pain radiated from behind my eyelids and wrapped around my throat.
When I opened my eyes and turned my head, I remembered being held by the neck against the wall in the stairway.
A wet spot under my hair brought back the memory of being dropped and hitting my head on the banister. I reached up to feel the sticky blood which ran from my temple to my ear. My shirt covered my top half, but I wasn’t wearing my jeans.Where did they go?
Cody stirred beside me. “Hey there, sleepyhead. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I didn’t mean it; you drive me so freaking crazy I can’t stop my brain. When I think about someone else touching you, I lose it. I just love you so much, my princess.”
He leaned up on one elbow and kissed my nose as lightly as if his lips were a feather. “Forgive me?” The tone of his voice made me shiver; he almost sang the words.
I smiled and ignored the pounding in my head. “I love you, my prince.”
In one swift move, he straddled me and ripped my shirt open.
Surprised, I tried to pull away. With one hand, he grasped both of my wrists and held them above my head. His weight on my hips prevented me from escaping, no matter how hard I squirmed. He rubbed himself against me and I tried to move away from him.
“Don’t bother trying to get loose. I have you right where I want you.” Teeth marks remained after he bit my breast; he broke the skin. “You like the pain, admit it.”
“No, I don’t. Please stop.”
“I can tell from your body what turns you on.” He pulled down my panties in one painful tug, then flipped me over and shoved himself inside me. “Ah, you’re so wet. You do like getting fucked.”
“No. I don’t like this,” I cried, hoping to get to his heart. Hoping that seeing me in pain would make him stop. It didn’t. I could feel him all the way to my stomach; I begged him to stop. “Cody. Please. You’re hurting me.”
Since he was too heavy and strong for me to push away, I gave up and laid there. I took what he wanted to give me, just like that first time at the bar.
SEWARD HIGHSchool students slammed lockers and gathered outside classroom doors until the next bell. The metal clang ran in my ears and their voices carried through the hallway. With only a few minutes between classes, most students rushed to change books and chat with friends. Others found their significant other and engaged in a passionate make-out session.
Sore from Cody’s antics the previous day, I winced with each step and prayed that I had applied enough makeup to cover the bruises. Even my hair hurt.
On my way from English class to my locker, I stopped in the bathroom for a breather and to make sure my façade hadn’t failed. The mirror reflected the face of a defeated teenager; sad and confused. Wrinkles covered my forehead from long-term frowning, so I opened my eyes wide and forced myself to stretch them out.
Mondays sucked.
After fourth hour, Brittany showed up at my locker, as usual. She noticed the bruises around my throat; I guess twenty-four hours wasn’t enough time for skin to forget. “Oh, my God. Who did this to you?” She reached out and touched the sensitive area on my neck.
“One of the guys got a little rough at the bar.” I avoided her gaze and whispered the lie.
She raised an eyebrow; she knew that’s not whathappened. I silently thanked her for not pushing for details. “How’d you do on the Chem exam?” Changing the subject, she led the way to our next class. My worst: Geometry.
Honestly, who cared how to measure the circumference of a circle? When would I use that in the real world?
“Okay, I guess. I got a B. You?”
