CHAPTER TWENTY #3
“Because that’s what’s expected of me.”
“Really? And you, like such a ‘good’ girl you are, will rush to obey your perfect family? Where’s that girl who didn’t let anyone mess with her? Someone so strong-willed and sure of herself?”
I gaped at him. Was that how he saw me? Strong-willed and sure of myself?
This couldn’t be further from the truth.
I’d fought for my position in high school hierarchy out of necessity.
My behavior had been a mask more often than not.
Fake it till you make it and all that shit.
But either way, what did he want from me?
“You have no idea, Zach. My life has never been mine to begin with. It was always for my family to decide what I should do. I’ve been raised from the start to accept that my choices weren’t going to be my own.
That’s the price to pay for our luxury home, the luxury lifestyle, and the knowledge that you’re among the most powerful people in the world.
And I never complained because I live in a world different from yours—I don’t live in a regular world. ”
His eyes were wide, roaming all over my face, and for the first time, it felt like he was seeing me, and not the person he thought I was.
“And you never, not once, wanted to leave it? To tell your parents to go fuck themselves? Don’t tell me that you see the real dirt of your world and still want to be part of it?
” He motioned with his hand around us, never taking his gaze off me.
I looked around us, feeling displeasure deep within me. The glitter, the polished surfaces, the sheer amount of money spent on even the smallest pieces of furniture in this house.
Of course it was all tiring. Thinking about reputation and how other people perceived me. All this careful planning and execution to maintain my “nice girl” image, yet it was so easily ruined just by Zach’s presence here.
“Maybe I don’t care as much about it as you might think, but it doesn’t even matter. I’m going to yet again do what my parents want.”
“So you’re not a selfish bitch, but you’re a spineless, pathetic coward. What a change.”
I bristled at his tone, baring my teeth at him. “Maybe. But what does it matter? What does any of it matter, Zach? You’re supposed to be happy. I’m forced to live how others want. I’m going to stay miserable.”
He got in my face, his eyes fierce. “Not like this. Only I get to decide how you’re going to be miserable.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. The words were scathing, but a sick part of me clung to the possessiveness in them, as though I was somehow special in his eyes. I shook my head at myself, not even wanting to go there.
Footsteps sounded in the foyer, and I quickly pulled away from him, leaving him there.
I felt his gaze follow me all the way until I disappeared from his sight.
“That’s it. Suck that cock. Deeper.”
His voice and grunts were clear above the bass of the music playing from the speakers, the lights of the VIP section too bright in my drunken haze.
My jaw hurt, and my stomach coiled as I tried to think of anything—anything—that would take my mind off what I was doing, but my mind was brutally blank, forcing me to endure the full horror of what was happening.
“Yesss. So good. I want to come all over your young tits. Do you want me to come over your tits?”
I refused to answer, just continuing to take him inside my mouth. The sooner this was over, the better.
He didn’t allow me that. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. “I asked you a question, Blair. Do you want me to come over your tits?”
No, I don’t want you to fucking come over my tits. I want you to go to hell, you fucking pedophile.
I contemplated all the ways I could maim his dick as I forced my gaze back to it, unable to look this monster in the eyes. “Yes,” I gritted out, feeling something dying in me more. “Come all over my tits.”
He groaned. “Fuck, yeah.” He shoved his dick into my mouth without warning, and I gagged, tears welling in my eyes. I couldn’t breathe!
“Your mouth feels so good. You’re so good at this, sweetie.” His hand gripped my hair, his fingers twisting in it once, twice. No one was here to stop this. He could do whatever he wanted to me and for as long as he wanted. My knees were starting to hurt on the solid floor.
I wanted to go home.
This was for my family.
This was for Melody.
I want to go home.
“Fuck, that’s it. I’m coming.”
I closed my eyes, steeling myself as he pulled out of my mouth, feeling the dirtiest ever as he came over my breasts, his grunts drowning out the sound of my heaving. The world was spinning, growing dark, dark, dark, empty—
I woke up with a gasp, my hands clenching the sheets as hard as they could. The silky material of my pj’s was like sandpaper on my heated skin, all wrapped around me in its too tight embrace.
I threw the sheets off me and sat up, reaching for the lamp to chase away the stark darkness of my room. A bout of nausea hit me, and I bent over, gulping for air.
I needed air. I needed to breathe.
I rushed out of my bed and went barefoot downstairs, taking a long breath of fresh air as I stepped outside. I tipped my head back as I gripped the terrace banister, closing my eyes as the memory of that first night with William once more played in front of my eyes.
Dad had instructed me to meet William at one of the clubs William frequented, telling me to do anything to satisfy him.
It was intended to help Dad obtain a permit for one of the high-rise condos currently under development uptown.
I drank and smoked pot so I could be out of it, and it helped me not care.
It helped it pass in a blur of lights, vivid colors, and loud music.
But in my nightmares, I never “not cared.” In my nightmares, I felt every nauseating second of it, each smell, sound, and taste harder to stomach.
I forced my eyes open and inhaled another deep breath, the wind hitting my sweaty skin.
It was alright. I was alright. What was happening with William was just temporary. Once Dad got what he wanted from him, it would stop.
But that was the thing, wasn’t it? It wouldn’t stop because Dad would always need more permits. As long as his business thrived, he would continue to build and expand. And if William got out of the picture, someone else would replace him.
Anger I’d been suppressing all this time rose in me fast, and for a split second, I wanted Dad’s empire to crumble.
He didn’t care about me; he just cared that I did whatever was necessary for the business to expand, and at this moment, I hated him.
I wanted to punish him for using me, for forcing me to experience something so horrible.
I wanted him to hurt just as much as I was hurt.
The wind picked up, and I rubbed my hands against my arms, chasing away the chill. The urge to retreat to my room, turn on my camera, and release all the dark thoughts swirling through my mind was strong, and I intended to do just that.
But as I turned to go back inside, faint cries and screams went off in the quiet night, coming from a distance.
My stomach knotted. They were coming from the staff’s quarters.
I rushed there, my pulse going erratic as the cries grew more distinctive.
They were Zach’s. My feet almost slipped on the floor when I skidded around the corner to his room, and I spotted Emily dashing there from the opposite direction.
She stopped when she saw me, her see-through nightgown swishing around her bare feet. The screams and cries stopped.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
She shifted on her feet, looking aside. “Nothing.” There was no surprise or confusion on her face, which could mean only one thing.
“He sounds like he’s in pain, so don’t tell me it’s nothing. You obviously know something.”
She swallowed, then met my gaze. “Tom . . . he has nightmares. I thought it wasn’t anything serious when I heard it the first time, but this is the third time it’s happening, so I came to see if there’s something I can do.”
My heart clenched, right before another cry reached us through his door. He sounded like he was in terrible pain.
I thought about what Zach had told me about having insomnia, and the earlier nausea I felt threatened to come back. Nightmares were another issue he had to deal with, thanks to me.
The urge to help him nearly had me rush into his room at once.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I didn’t want him to get fired. I know how important a quiet environment is to Mrs. Everett.”
I had nothing to say to that. It was true that Mom couldn’t stand noise or anything messing with her routine. It was why the staff’s quarters were in a separate wing of the house, which, now that I thought about it, was a lucky coincidence. Zach’s nightmares would raise questions.
“Okay. You can go. I’ll check on him.” I reached for the door.
She didn’t move, and I could sense she didn’t want me to check on him any more than I wanted her to do it. I looked her up and down, wondering if the choice of her nightwear was just a coincidence or deliberate, but then I chided myself. Now wasn’t the time for that.
“He’ll be fine, so you can go to sleep.” Without waiting for her answer, I tried Zach’s door and sighed in relief that it wasn’t locked.
I entered the room and locked the door behind me, pressing my hand to my mouth when I saw Zach in his bed.
His limbs were twisted in the sheets, and his head was jerking left and right on his pillow as though he fought an invisible enemy.
Oh my God.
“Zach.” I darted over to him, moving to sit down on the edge of his bed as I placed my hand gently on his shoulder.
He mumbled something under his breath, something awfully close to pleading, but before I could decipher it, he yelped, and I swallowed hard.
“Zach, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up. ”