Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
HER
H is touch awakened something in me.
A spark, a flame—a deep longing, a primal desire.
Like someone had flipped a switch, igniting a fire that had been dormant. A foreign feeling, yet so familiar. Emotions I’d long ago buried that now demand to be heard and felt. A reality of overwhelming need and deep-seated want. I crave something—but what? I need answers, but they elude me.
Yet the fire continues to beg for more fuel.
I don’t know how to make sense of it. The conflict between what I want and what I thought I wanted is overwhelming. As much as my intellect grapples with that contrast, my heart refuses to let go of its newfound hunger. How can I reconcile these conflicting forces? I search for something to quench the fire, but nothing seems to suffice. Blake is too caring, too considerate. He’s everything I need on a practical level .
Though he refuses to hurt me the way I need it.
There’s a darkness inside of me that yearns for something. But what that something is, I don’t know. And that scares me. All I know is that until I find it, the fire will continue to burn and consume me day after day. I can’t put that burden on Blake—not until I figure this out for myself. I already feel guilty enough for dragging him into the chaos that is my life.
I take a deep breath and focus on the present. But the smell of boiling apple cider that wafts into the living room sends me back into the past.
Decorating, cozy sweaters, and football games filled our days during the magical falls with Dad. One of my fondest memories is of our walks in the woods behind our house, where trees burst with vibrant oranges, yellows, and reds, and looked like a painting come to life. We’d pick apples from the orchard, using them for pies and other tasty treats.
The nostalgia fades as reality crashes back into me. I’m not at home or my apartment, but in Jen’s cozy, yet slightly spooky home. Her family has already decorated for Halloween, filling the living room with fake cobwebs, plastic spiders, and pumpkins. Whimsical decorations, such as skeleton garden gnomes, adorn the lawn.
I find myself drawn to the safe space her home provides.
I rise from the couch and make my way into the kitchen. Little ghosts stand out against the dark wood of the cabinets. Jen is stirring apple cider on the stove and gives me a faint smile as I enter .
“Anything I can do to help?” I ask.
She nods. “After the cider cools a bit, we can start throwing together the dry ingredients. Could you get the butter for me, please?”
I walk over to the fridge and pull out a stick of butter. Jen’s making her ‘infamous’ apple cider donuts for tonight’s gathering. We’re meeting the others from work and some friends at a spot near the outskirts of town for a bonfire—which is just an excuse for people to get wasted.
“I hope this will make enough,” she frets, shutting off the heat as I set the butter on the counter.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, crossing my arms. “First come, first serve. If Nick and Zoey invite too many people, they’ll just have to miss out.”
She walks past me and crouches, opening a lower cabinet. “That’s true! But maybe I should have planned for extras, though.”
I shake my head. “You’re too nice, you know that?”
“N-not really,” she stammers. “I just know how much Nick loves my donuts.” She stands up, clutching a bag of flour. “Maybe a few extra won’t hurt. Better too many than not enough, right?”
I chuckle. “Sure. I guess we’ll find out later.”
I fetch the remaining ingredients and she combines them, humming softly. After washing my hands, I grab an apron from the hook and tie it around my waist. She smiles in gratitude, and I melt the butter in the microwave in preparation for mixing the remaining ingredients .
After piping the batter into the pans, they’re put into the oven and baked. By the time we’re finished, we have two dozen donuts—and only so much time to get ready for the gathering. We stand back to admire our handiwork.
“You think I made too many?” Jen asks, sounding unsure.
I shake my head. “If they don’t want them, I’ll take them instead.”
She giggles, knowing Nick would be over the moon about having so many donuts. After letting them cool, we wrap them in wax paper and place them in paper bags, quickly cleaning up our mess. We then get ready for the gathering and head out in Jen’s car in record time.
During the drive, I can’t help but wonder if he will make an appearance.
When we arrive, the gathering is already in full swing. People surround the bonfire, talking and laughing, while music plays from a boombox. I glance over at Jen, who is biting her lip in anticipation as we exit the car.
“Come on,” I say, holding out my hand.
She grins shyly and takes it, holding the bag of donuts with the other. As we weave our way through the crowd, a couple of people from her classes greet her and offer us drinks and snacks. Finding a spot near the fire, we settle in, despite there being more people than I would like. But it’s too late to back out now.
I can feel Jen relax a bit as she takes it all in. She tucks her hair behind her ears and scans the area, likely searching for Nick. Lost in my thoughts, I only vaguely listen to the surrounding conversations. It’s not until Jen suddenly shoots up from her seat, breaking into a huge smile, that I realize Nick has finally made his appearance.
Zoey then strolls up beside him, hanging on his arm.
Jen’s shoulders sag, wilting as she drops back into her seat.
I take her hand and squeeze it, giving her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay,” I murmur, leaning closer so she can hear me. “We don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”
She takes a deep breath before plastering on a smile as Nick approaches us.
“Hey, guys! Glad you made it,” he says cheerfully, bending to hug her, his eyes lingering on her as he pulls away. For a moment, there’s something unspoken between them.
Zoey pushes herself in front of him and grins widely at us both. I raise my brow as I watch Jen’s expression momentarily harden before softening into a polite smile. What’s that all about?
“Hi, Zoey. Nick. It’s good to see you,” I say, trying to pivot the conversation.
Nick’s gaze shifts to the paper bag, and his eyes light up. “Donuts!” he exclaims in delight, like a kid spotting a sack of candy .
“Have some,” Jen says, holding the bag up.
With a bright smile, he pulls a pastry from the bag and eagerly unwraps it. “This is amazing,” he mumbles between bites. “As usual.”
Jen offers Zoey the bag, but she holds up a hand and shakes her hand. “No thanks. I’m on a diet. Trying to avoid sugar and fat.”
Nick glances between Jen and Zoey, his brow creased in confusion. It looks like he wants to say something, but then pauses and takes another bite of donut instead. The silence between us is awkward, and I grab a donut from the bag to keep my mouth occupied.
As we finish our donuts, Zoey grabs Nick’s hand, and he waves at us with an apologetic half-shrug as they disappear into the crowd of college kids. I sigh in relief; the tension had been palpable, and I’m glad for a chance to break it. Jen slouches, gripping the bag with white knuckles, her expression strained.
“Are you alright?” I ask gently.
She smiles weakly. “I’m okay,” she says after a moment, her voice wavering slightly as she looks away. I know she’s not being honest—and she knows I know—but she keeps up the lie. And I let her. “I’m gonna add the donuts to the snack pile. Want any more in case they’re inhaled in a nanosecond?”
“Nah, it’s fine.” I get up and stretch. “I sure could use a drink, though.”
We laugh and go over to the picnic table. On top of it is a slew of snacks and a few coolers with various drinks. I grab a can of hard iced tea and a package of nuts before returning to our place near the bonfire. Jen soon joins me, and I take note of the strong drink she immediately throws back.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” I ask, watching as she chugs half the bottle.
She shakes her head and continues drinking, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand after she’s done. “Don’t worry about me.”
I take a sip of my drink and shrug, though I can’t help but feel something is off. A feeling of sadness pinches my chest as Jen continues to ignore what’s obviously bothering her. Her mood has taken a turn for the worse since Nick and Zoey showed up. And it isn’t difficult to put together the pieces.
We sit in companionable silence as Jen pounds back two more drinks. At this rate, I’ll end up being the designated driver. Eventually, my bladder twinges, signaling my departure for the bathroom.
“Where’s the restroom?” I ask Jen.
She blinks, taking a moment to reply. “Over there,” she points, “close to the woods. There’s a few porta-potties.”
Hesitantly, I glance in the direction she’s gesturing toward. “Thanks, Jen. I’ll be back.”
I make my way toward the bathrooms, staying close to the light from the bonfire. Uneasiness crawls up my spine; I don’t like the idea of being out in the dark all alone. Thankfully, I see a few other people making their way to and from the toilet area. Taking that as a sign of reassurance, I hurry past them and duck into the closest empty porta-potty.
The smell of mildew and urine hits me as soon as I close the door. A foul chemical odor also clings to the walls. Trying to ignore it, I do my business. But the uneasy feeling returns. I open the door a crack to let some light in and use hand sanitizer to clean my hands. Ugh. I hate porta-potties , I think—as a shadow passes by the crack.
I return the hand sanitizer to its place and steel myself for a peek outside. My pulse thrums as I peer out the crack, keeping most of my body hidden. A tall figure suddenly moves into frame, illuminated by the firelight. I stifle a gasp as he stares at me for what feels like an eternity before finally breaking his gaze and walking away—toward the woods.
It’s him!
I remain still, my heart pounding in my chest as I process the situation. He must have seen me come in here, and yet he didn’t do or say anything. Just waited for me. Once I regain my composure, I make sure no one is around before slipping out and fixing my eyes on the woods. I hesitate, my breath quickening when he appears again. He motions for me to follow before vanishing amongst the trees.
A thrill rocks through me as heat rises from deep inside me. I want to keep going. A voice warns against it, whispering of irrevocable consequences. I should turn back.
But I can’t stop now .
I step into the darkness, going deeper into the woods, keeping a close eye on his silhouette. The shadows close around me like a blanket, cold and inviting all at once. A chill runs through me and I subconsciously rub my arms to ward off the goosebumps. He leads me silently, and we don’t speak. The only sound is the distant music from the boombox and rustling leaves, and the twigs that snap underfoot as he leads me deeper into the woods.
Then he vanishes again, as if made of nothing more than shadows. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and apprehension creeps over every inch of my body. As I reach for the taser in the pocket of my coat, a sound comes from somewhere ahead of me. A soft rustling of leaves, like someone is walking through them in haste. I know he’s still here, somewhere within these shadows.
With one hand tightly gripping my taser, I take a few steps forward, my knees shaking. I’m on pins and needles, adrenaline surging in my veins as I keep moving, one foot in front of the other. Then I see him again, standing ahead. He turns to me, finally acknowledging my presence.
I know he sees right through me. His gaze flits to the taser I wield, and he has the audacity to laugh . I’m filled with a strange sense of foreboding as he looms closer. The smart thing to do would be to run. But I’m drawn to the thrill—the danger, the promise.
There really isn’t any turning back now.
Putting on a brave face, I say, “You shouldn’t be out here.”
I can almost hear him smirk behind the mask. “ Neither should you.” He steps closer and touches my arm, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core. “You can go … or you can stay. The choice is yours.”
My body trembles as I make my decision, knowing the implications. He’s even closer now, just inches apart, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. I swallow hard and finally find my voice again. “I’ll stay.”
He snatches the taser from my hand and hauls me against the trunk of a tree before I can protest. My back slams against the bark, knocking the air from my lungs. With one hand gripping my waist, he waves the taser menacingly with the other. I’m shaking—but not from fear.
The feeling only intensifies when he presses his body against mine, his fingers tightening around my waist, enough to bruise.
I look up at him defiantly as he leans in, his lips just millimeters from mine. “You know you want this as much as I do,” he whispers, triggering the taser, sending sparks flying.
I shudder at the sensation from the unspoken threat. “I do,” I say, warmth flooding between my thighs.
Dropping the taser, his hand slides down to cup my clothed pussy, making me whimper. I arch into his grasp, wanting more. Needing more. He wraps his other hand around my throat, watching me as I writhe underneath him. My breath comes out in shallow pants as his grip constricts my airway. I can feel his hardness press against my leg, sending desire soaring through me like wildfire.
This is beyond wrong.
Thoughts of Blake quickly leave me as my killer tugs down my pants, taking my panties with them. His other hand never leaves my throat as he deftly pulls the garments off, giving him full access to my dripping slit. After unzipping his pants and rolling on a condom, he strokes himself a few times, moaning—and before I can comprehend what’s happening, he lifts my leg to rest on his shoulder and slams himself into me with one swift thrust.
Every single one of my muscles is tense as he begins to move, thrusting deep and hard within me. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming out in pleasure as he rocks against me, pushing himself deeper each time. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes; his cock stretches me so exquisitely, I think I might immediately come.
His grip on my throat remains tight as his cock pumps roughly into my pussy. He wraps an arm around my waist and rubs my clit. I moan, my legs quavering, heat quickly building in my core. Finally, he lets go of my throat to grab a fistful of hair.
“Harder,” I breathe.
He yanks my hair as he fucks me harder, burying himself as deep as he can go. “Come on,” he growls, panting through the mask. “Come all over my cock, Little Finch.”
He pounds me faster, his rhythm increasingly erratic. I can feel the pleasure mounting, my stomach fluttering, my head spinning. I shut my eyes, stars exploding behind my lids as my climax rips through me. My pussy clenches around him, his touch burning me alive. He thrusts a few more times before he withdraws, grunting as he removes the condom.
“On your knees,” he orders gruffly, pushing me to the ground.
My knees hit the dirt. I have no time to even wince as he stands before me, furiously jerking his cock in my face. I part my lips, and he shoves himself inside my mouth, fucking my throat for a couple of moments. Then he pulls out partway, the head of his dick on my tongue.
“Swallow,” he rasps, spilling thick ropes of cum into my mouth.
I savor the saltiness of it, the rich, earthy flavor of his warmth. I swallow, moaning as his essence coats the back of my throat. He holds the back of my head as I lick him clean, smacking my lips for effect as he pulls away.
His gloved finger glides across my lips almost affectionately. “You’re mine, my Little Finch,” he says, intensity radiating off him. “I will not share you with anyone else. Ever.”
He zips up and disappears into the night, leaving my heart hammering as the reality of what happened crashes into me. Looking around, I hope no one saw us, and I start putting my clothes back on. How could I explain what I’ve done—and what I’ve been doing—without looking like I’ve lost my fucking mind?
I rub my temples.
Maybe I have lost my mind after all.