Chapter 4
CORDELIE
Iexit my English Literature class in a daze, feeling like I retained nothing of the hour-long lecture.
My mind's been all over the place all day, and I barely slept last night after filling out the Anti-Valentine's Match form, and tossing and turning, rethinking what I've done.
I'm still horrified and embarrassed about all the things I put down, even though Faye didn't judge me for it.
I wonder if there's something really messed up inside my head that makes me desire those things.
What sane person wants to be hunted through dark woods, in the middle of the night, by a masked man who throws her down, ties her up, and fucks her while she tries to fight back?
Like in a dark romance novel, sure, why not, but in real life?
Yeah, no, that should never happen. Yet here I am.
You are sick. There's always been something wrong with you, but you try so hard to hide it. It's why people leave you: they see the rot inside of you, and they want no part of it.
I'm so disoriented with my thoughts that I don't realize I've walked right into someone until my teeth rattle from the impact, and my bag falls off my shoulder.
"I'm so..." The remainder of my words die on my lips when the large male I banged into turns around, and I get a glimpse of his face.
No, this can't be fucking happening to me.
Not even karma is that much of a bitch. I quickly attempt to turn around and flee, but before I can, his large, veiny hand strikes out and grabs my forearm, his fingers digging into my skin as I try to pull away.
"Release me!" I demand while avoiding looking directly at him, and instead glancing over his shoulder.
I can feel how hard my heart is beating in my chest, and I'm struggling to draw air into my lungs, as he stares so intently at me that I feel my skin crawl.
"No," he says it so casually, as if there's no big deal in the fact that he's restraining me.
His body completely turns toward mine, and I once again try to take a step backward, my mind racing as I consider using my bag to hit him in the face.
Before I can do anything, he forces me backward, my feet sliding in my ballet flats that find no purchase on the stone floor, and he pushes me up against the hallway wall, caging me in, as he leans his towering frame toward me.
My stomach twists painfully with shame and confusion as I realize how helpless he's making me feel, and I struggle to find clarity amid the chaos Noah is creating in my head.
"You thinking of hitting me, sweet baby girl?
" I can feel his warm, peppermint breath on my face, and the heat radiating off of his larger body pressing against mine.
My stomach ties itself in knots as the nickname he used to call me slips from his lips.
I grit my teeth and use my forearm that's trapped between our bodies to shove at his chest, but he barely acknowledges the effort. "Leave me alone, Noah." My voice sounds breathy and weak as I make the demand, and that instantly enrages me. You are weak; look how easily he overpowered you.
"I don't think I want to, Cordelie." He pushes his chest further into my body, and the scent of his heady cologne, a mixture of mint, anise, and lemon, intoxicates my senses. "In fact, I'm quite happy right where I am at the moment."
I need to get out of here and away from him, the thought blares over and over in my head, as my body reacts in panic and tenses.
My mind screams for freedom, but my body is frozen, caught between fear and helplessness, seized in this vicious circle of Noah hurting me again and again without care.
His hand rises and grabs onto my chin, tilting it up and away from where I was staring at his chest, and forcing me to look up at his face, but I instantly close my eyes like the coward I am.
"Look at me, sweet baby girl, please," he demands, and there's a note of sadness and desperation in his tone that has me relenting, and staring into his dark, obsidian gaze.
This close, I notice the deep, purple shadows under his eyes, as if he hasn't been sleeping, and how his cheekbones seem to protrude further beneath the dark stubble he's allowed to grow, as if he's lost some weight and can't be bothered to shave.
My eyes follow the movement of his lips, and his tongue peeks out and moistens the bottom one before biting its surface, and I've never had a desire to bite a lip more than I do at this moment.
A strand of thick dark hair falls over one of his eyes, giving him a softer look to his features than I've glimpsed recently.
His head comes closer until his nose is pressed slightly against mine, and our faces are so close that I can see all the red veins in the whites of his eyes.
"I've always loved your eyes, Cordelie. Beautiful storm-filled clouds, I could stare at them for hours. "
He takes a deep breath, as if inhaling my scent, and exhales harshly.
"God, you always smell so good, baby, like sunshine and wild flowers.
" His hand leaves my chin and slides down my neck, as his fingers produce a trail of heat before they wrap loosely around the slim column, and I gasp my next breath with the contact.
"Have you missed me the way I've missed you, sweet baby girl? Does this heart miss mine?"
All the air leaves my lungs, and my knees threaten to buckle, as I press myself as hard as I can into the wall to stop my body from touching his.
It's no use; he's determined to crush me some more, as if what he's already done to me wasn't ever going to be enough to satisfy his miserable, dark soul.
I force the lump in my throat down, swallowing so loudly that I can clearly hear the sound, which means he can too.
I wonder if he can feel how hard my heart is beating in a mixture of fear, terror, and despair in my chest. I catch the crinkling at the sides of his eyes as he pulls away slightly, and they narrow on my lips.
No, please, I can't do this. I can't allow him to kiss me.
He doesn't give a shit about me. He's just playing some sadistic game, and getting his rocks off by crushing what's left of my wretched, bleeding heart.
The one he not only left in tatters when he betrayed me, but ground his foot over the shards until there was no chance of ever saving it.
The recollection of all the pain he's caused me, all the nights I've cried myself to sleep, and how he played me, compels my spine to solidify like thick steel.
I propel myself to stand taller, pushing against his hold once more, as I inhale much-needed oxygen.
I won't allow him to continue to hurt me, or make me into his plaything.
"Get away from me, you disgusting, betraying, manwhore!
You make my skin fucking crawl," I grit with vehemence.
His eyes widen, and his lips part into a grin, as if he finds me amusing and not a threat in the slightest, but then again, why would he?
I was always the girl who let him walk all over me.
The one who didn't follow her intuition sooner, and gave him the benefit of the doubt, even when my heart and mind were screaming that something was really wrong between us.
"You've grown teeth, baby. I like it." He presses his hips into mine, and I can feel the outline of his hardening cock against my stomach.
Bile fills the back of my throat with the knowledge that he truly is a monster who enjoys hurting me.
How did I never see this side of him? How was he able to hide it from me for so long?
It was always there, but you chose not to see it.
You were just grateful anyone wanted you.
I raise my knee and slam it harshly into his groin until a whoosh of air escapes his lips, and he releases his hold on my neck, doubling over in pain, and knocking my tote bag to the ground, causing all the contents to scatter across the floor.
"Fuck, Cordelie, that hurt!" He groans, his face turning a lovely shade of red, as I scramble to throw my things back into my bag and flee.
My hands tremble, and I re-drop my items, as a cold sweat breaks out on my back, making my blouse stick to me.
"Good, you deserve that and so much more, Noah!
" My voice gets louder and harder as I straighten and grip the handles of my bag for dear life.
"If you touch me again, I'm going to do worse to you.
Leave me alone and go play with your whore.
" The sound of footsteps rapidly approaching gets my attention, and I turn toward them, my face flaming with terror and embarrassment at the situation I find myself in.
"I know, sweet baby girl. Fuck, I know," Noah groans as he tries to catch his breath, and for a brief second, I almost feel sorry for him and worry that I did some damage, but then my self-preservation kicks in, and I take a step away from him, keeping him in my sight line while I look for an escape.