Chapter 51
I lip-sync to Miley’s Flowers blasting through the speaker in my bedroom, and fluff my pillows before I can settle in for the night and give myself some much-needed self-care.
I’ve got my face scrub, mask, and detoxing toner at the ready, and all I’ve gotta do now is find some snacks from the kitchen.
I make my way to the bedroom door, and have just opened it when my mom and her bodyguard come to a stop just outside my room. Her eyes are glazed over and red-rimmed, and her posture is loose. She’s drunk.
I swallow and tighten my grip on the door’s handle. “Mom,” I address her in a nonchalant tone.
“Bitch.” She takes a step in my direction, and on instinct, I move back. She laughs, then stumbles, but Riley catches her before she can fall.
“Take her up to her room,” I tell him. “And make sure she doesn’t choke on her vomit.”
Mom scoffs. “You know what the people at the HQ have been calling me ever since that meeting?” she asks, then hiccups.
“A sellout. A money-hungry hag. They laugh at me in my absence; they give me looks of mockery when I pass the hallways.” She grabs the threshold and leans in.
“And it’s all because of you,” she sneers at me.
“My employees think you’re Lure’s future, that you’ll take the company to new fucking heights.
” She scoffs again. “So, I thought I should pay you a little visit tonight – to see the people’s favorite in all her righteous glory. ”
Ice claws its way up my spine at her words, and a lump forms in my throat at her indirect threat. I can’t get air in and out of my lungs, and my legs feel leaden.
Mom smirks, having sensed the shift in me. “What’s wrong, Miss
Adler? Feeling outnumbered, are you?”
My eyes sting with unshed tears, but I grit my teeth and manage to gather what little strength I have left. “You wouldn’t dare,” I tell her. “Not if you like your pathetic head on your shoulders.”
Her lips spread in a grin. “I do like a good challenge.” She hiccups again. “Especially if it’ll end with you on the floor, screaming for help and crying for mercy.”
I make myself move and push the door towards her. It connects with her head, making her shriek. I then turn around and climb onto the bed in search of my phone, but Riley beats me to it. He grabs it off the nightstand and throws it against the wall, then gets on my bed and fists my hair.
“I’m going to have too much fun dirtying you up, you sneaky little cunt,” he hisses at me, then shoves me on the mattress.
I turn and try to move away from him, but he grabs one of my legs and yanks me to him.
“Let go of me!” I scream, and kick him in the jaw, which somehow ends up urging him on further.
“Defiant little bitch.” He lifts my hoodie, exposing my breasts.
I make to push it back down, but he grips both my hands and slams them above my head.
He smirks and cups my right breast with his free hand, then kneads it painfully.
“You’ve got the county’s most dangerous man weak for you.
There really must be something in you for him to defy the people he should otherwise be grateful to.
” He drags his hand lower and grabs my center, making a sob hitch out of me.
My tears fall to my temples, and my vision blurs as I thrash helplessly against his hold. “Stop,” I say, and can’t help but cry when my plea makes him grin.
He unzips his pants and pulls his cock out, then starts stroking it while running his eyes over me.
This can’t be happening…
Please, this can’t be happening right now.
Mom enters the room, and when she sees Riley working himself to me, she bends over in laughter. “Serves you right,” she says while laughing, then claps her hands like the mad-fucking-woman she is.
I thrash under Riley again, and try to kick him off me, but he doesn’t budge. What he instead does is hook his fingers under the waistband of my shorts. He manages to pull them down, and when he glances between my thighs, he groans and strokes himself faster.
“If only your cunt had pink hair,” he muses, then chuckles. “Would make you more special than you already are…Princess.”
“Let me fucking go,” I manage to say, then jerk under him.
He chuckles again, then positions himself at my entrance, making my heart all but stop.
No.
Please, no.
“You’ve got a pretty set of lips,” he whispers, then hovers over me and lets go of my hands. “I’m gonna kiss them and see if they taste just as good as they look.”
My heart is beating in my throat as my fear heightens. “Riley, no.” I shove at his hips and shoulders, then slap him when he tries to kiss me. “Fucking stop,” I grit out, and claw at his cheeks when he forcibly brings his face closer to mine.
He grins through my assault, and when I press my nails further into his skin, breaking it, he pushes further.
I turn my head to the side, and my eyes land on the lamp on my nightstand.
My mom sees it too, and opens her mouth to warn Riley, but I’m faster.
I grab the lamp by its golden, rod-like body and pull at its cord, then smash it against the side of Riley’s head.
Shards of glass rain down on me, just as Riley howls in surprise and gets away from me. He curses when blood drips into one of his eyes from the gash on his forehead, then falls back onto the bed.
The song on my speaker changes to Still
Alive, by Demi Lovato, just as I scramble to my knees, kicking away my shorts when they tangle between my ankles. I straddle Riley’s waist, and as he looks up at me, his complexion pales when he sees the rod in my hand.
“Get off me,” he rasps, then groans and grabs his bleeding head.
I’m breathing too fast, and I feel a strange sort of rush pumping through my veins. “Still wanna grab my tits, Riley?” I say, then run a hand under my nose to wipe away the snot. “Still wanna fuck me and taste my lips?”
“Get the fuck off him, Cignette,” Mom warns, fully sober all of a sudden. She comes to a stand on the other side of the bed, and when I lock my gaze with hers, she gives me a look full of rage.
Riley starts sliding out from under me, and my attention snaps back to him.
He’s about to turn and make a run for it, but I raise my arm and stab the lamp’s slightly bent rod right in the center of his chest. Blood splatters across my hair, face, and neck.
His eyes bulge, and his mouth opens in a silent scream.
Mom gasps audibly and moves away from the bed.
I pull the rod out before bringing it down on the same spot a second time, a third, and then a fourth, and only stop when I’m sure Riley’s dead, and the gaping hole in his chest is wide enough to showcase some of his insides.
I don’t know where this strength came from, but I’m glad it did. Succumbing to fear and losing to it yet again would have been a massive mistake. It feels good to have taken matters into my own hands this time, even if it meant ending a life.
I spit at Riley’s now-flaccid cock and get off the bed, putting distance between myself and his body. My hands are covered in his blood, and the white mattress underneath him is painted in it.
“What has he done to you?” comes Mom’s voice. It’s soft and unsure, as if she’s scared of raising it in front of me. “What has he turned you into?”
I look at her, and notice that her face is completely ashen. She has pressed herself against the wall, and is clutching her pearl necklace for dear life whilst staring at me as if I’m a stranger.
Maybe I am.
Even I don’t know who the fuck I am in this moment, so to expect her to be okay with this side of me would be a ridiculous notion.
“Leave my house,” she says, then swallows. “Fucking leave!”
“He was going to rape me, Mom,” I make myself say. “How…how can you be okay with that?”
She gives me a blank look, and the weight of everything that has happened in the last few minutes crashes into me all at once. It’s like a headfirst collision of thoughts and mental pain and shock, and it’s…it’s a lot. It really fucking is a lot.
I make my way to the door, and Mom shrinks away from me.
Funny how the tables have turned, I wanna tell her, but don’t, and instead, walk out of my room.
I cross the foyer and enter the garden, and only when I’ve covered half of it, do I let go of the pressure in my chest, and start crying.
My voice rings out against the silence, and pairs with my sloppy footsteps as I pass by some of the figurines in the garden.
The guards stop their chatter and give me horrified looks when I reach them.
They’re unsure of how to approach me, or even ask me anything, so they remain as they are, until one of them decides to unlock the gates for me.
“Thank you,” I croak out, then head out into the streets, leaving the guards puzzled and tongue-tied behind me.