7. Maddison #2
Trying to force my body to stop trembling, I shake my head. “I might stay and reply to some emails before I head home. Thanks though, I needed this.”
She dives in to give me a hug that takes me by surprise, and I hug her back, emotion burning behind my eyes. Does it make me sound totally uncool if I say I can’t remember the last time I’ve been hugged? It’s so nice it almost distracts me from what, or who, is waiting outside.
“Me, too,” she pulls back, a tipsy smile on her face. “We are doing it again!” She turns and leaves, and other than a few stragglers at the bar, I’m here all alone.
Part of me is screaming to run, to call a lift and leave this bar. Part of me wants to stay right here and play this game he seems to have started.
I order one last drink, eyes staring straight back at dark blue ones that I know are staring at me. He shifts slightly, pulling the pack of cigarettes out to light another, before shoving his hand back into his pocket.
When he lights it, the brief flare of orange cuts through the darkness, carving a silhouette from the night. It illuminates his face before plunging him back into the shadows. It’s enough to see those wild eyes. I suck in a breath.
Even from here, there is something unnerving about him. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t look away. I can’t see his face, only the unmistakable feeling that he’s looking right at me.
It makes me regret taunting him the way I have been. Lifting my drink, I sip it, not taking my eyes off him. The minute I do, I feel like he is going to disappear, only to pop up out of nowhere. I need to keep track of him.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
Yet, the longer I sit here, watching his looming presence, the faster my heart races.
The quicker my breaths heave in and out of my lungs.
The more I fidget in my seat. I can’t even finish my drink by the time it becomes unbearable.
With shaky hands, I gather my purse and grip my phone.
I contemplate calling an Uber, since I’m at least one too many drinks in to be driving, but I don’t.
Why don’t I? I think I’m going to blame the Long Island iced teas.
Bells on top of the door chime once I’ve paid my bill and left the bar, wind slashing at me the second I step out.
Pausing on the front porch, I watch him drop his smoke to the ground and stub it out with a large, black boot, his hands slinking casually into his pockets. The picture of calmness, compared to my panic.
Each step forward feels monumental until I’ve reached the gravel that leads to my car.
With my eyes glued onto him, I decide better of myself and take a step towards my car. I might not be able to drive, but it offers me a modicum of safety compared to being out here with him. But he finally moves. Just one large step to match mine.
“Evening, Angel,” his deep voice echoes in the empty parking lot.
I shiver, and not just at the chill in the air. “What do you want?” I demand, though my voice betrays my fear.
He doesn’t respond, just watches me, studying me with his head cocked to the side. The chilled air between us grows taut as we assess each other, waiting for the other to move first. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before they stretch into a devastating grin.
I take another and gasp when he does, only he doesn’t stop this time. Fast, confident strides eat up the ground between us, and I plunge my hand into my purse, digging around for my keys. But he’s moving too fast, and my hands are too shaky.
Adrenaline shoots through my body, making my feet move, and I fall into a sprint, moving on instinct alone.
My heart is beating so loud I can barely hear the footsteps falling behind me, but I still hear them.
Heavy and steady as I stumble over cracked concrete and gravelly rocks.
My car is right there; my hand finally wraps around the key.
I could sob with relief when I see it light up when I press the unlock button.
With his long legs and combat boots, he’s too fast. A squeal tears through me as he slams me into the side of my car, the metal groaning as I collide with it.
“Get off me!” I cry, my body twisting and turning, stuck between the car and his unforgiving body. Hard plains of muscle push up on me, and he chuckles at my pathetic attempts to free myself.
He nuzzles the shell of my ear and takes a slow inhale. “Stop fighting me, Angel. This will go a lot easier for you if you just give in,” he whispers, as he drops his mouth to my neck, warm lips connecting with my skin.
Throwing my head back, stars erupt in my vision as it connects with his with a sickening crack. A metallic taste coats my tongue, but I feel his body fall away from mine. Pain explodes through my skull, though not as strong as the relief of feeling his warmth disappear.
Ash grunts a curse, and I don’t waste a second turning back before I’m sprinting off. My ankles scream and lungs heave, but I don’t dare stop. Don’t dare look back. A sob leaves me when I hear a chilling laugh and footsteps echoing behind me, fear curdling in my stomach.
They get closer and closer, and I know he should’ve caught me by now. I’m in high heels and a skirt, and he wears shoes that allow him to chase. To hunt. But he seems to be playing with me. Taunting me.
Another silent sob wracks my body as I frantically search for somewhere to hide, the parking lot stretching into more open concrete and deserted, open areas.
Defeat hits me as I realise there is nowhere to hide.
No way to get away. My shoulders slump forward as I unravel.
He will have his way with me, and I can do absolutely nothing to stop him.
And something dark… something deep, deep within me, comes alive. In a way, I’ve never experienced.
I don’t stop running until I feel the solid band of muscle wrap around my waist and lift me clean off the ground, my scream reverberating in the empty lot.
Not even streetlights illuminate this area, dark and forgotten.
The perfect place for nightmares to come alive.
Everything is shaking as he walks me with one arm, leading me to a gravel-free slab.
All I hear is his breath in my ear, warm against the back of my neck, and the sound of his boots crunching on the gravel. He doesn’t even sound exhausted.
My heels slide off my feet as tears run down my face. When he throws me onto the ground, my knees colliding with solid ground, a torn cry falls past my lips.
“Please stop!” I sob as he pushes a large hand against my spine, forcing my face to fall into the hard surface.
“Ever since I felt how tight this little hole was, I’ve been dreaming of sinking into it,” Ash groans behind me, his voice rough with need and heat. It causes a shiver to creep up my spine. “Say no. Tell me to stop again,” he growls.
“You don’t have to do this,” I beg, because I know that’s what I should do.
That’s what I need to do. But some sick part of me knows I’m lying.
Knows my clit is fluttering and my body has never felt more alive, with my lungs heaving painfully and my face pressed against the dirty ground.
“I don’t want this,” a weak, last attempt to stop this falls from my lips.
Warm fingers grip the back of my skirt where the zipper is and tug, tearing the material. Cold air hits me instantly; my entire body trembles. This is really about to happen. “That’s it, Angel. Tell me how much you don’t want this. Lie to me, baby.”
I know he can see the wet patch forming on my panties and the way my body is literally vibrating for him, but I’ll never admit it.
Because admitting right now that I want this makes me the sickest of all. Especially when I feel the unforgiving, cold metal pressing against the back of my head.