Perversion (Perversion Trilogy #1)(55)

A horrible, horrible secret.

Marco had raped her. His own sister.

“I’ll kill you myself,” I scream, as he rips off my dress and tosses it against the wall. The fabric hitting the floor isn’t loud, but it might as well be a cymbal the way the sound shakes in my ears.

Marco unbuckles his belt. He wraps it around my neck, pulling it tight. I’m choking, fighting to take in air. I feel the pressure building in my face as he cuts off my circulation. He pushes down his jeans, then spreads my legs as wide as they can go. “Slut, couldn’t even bother putting your fucking panties back on. I’ll show you who’s slut you are, and it’s not his.”

“You’ll die for this,” I rasp.

He snarls. “You want me to die?” He chuckles, then bites down hard on my ear. “You first, bitch.”

I’m not always present in my everyday life. My mind is always elsewhere, adrift in one daydream or another to escape reality. But never have I closed my eyes and prayed to a God I wasn’t sure existed for my mind to be anywhere other than in my own body.

Until now.

Marco forces himself inside of me.

I scream as the world crumbles and collapses all around me.

His hand covers my mouth. I can’t fucking breathe.

He pulls tighter on the belt.

I see stars.

“And to think,” he spits. “You don’t even know the real fucking reason I brought you here. But don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough.”

He pulls even tighter.

Fighting him off is as useless as trying not to feel my body and soul as they're invaded. I heave like I’m going to vomit as his sweat-soaked skin rubs against mine, his hardness thrusting again and again inside me. His grunts of angry pleasure sound like the very worst out of tune song that I'm being forced to listen to over and over again.

Finally, I stop resisting. My legs go limp as all the fight leaves me. After all, it’s a pointless use of my strength. If I keep fighting, I’ll die.

It’s as simple as that.

Instead, I will myself to be somewhere else.

Anywhere else.

While Marco hammers away at my insides, at what’s left of my innocence, I start to drift. I don’t float above my own body like a ghost. Fuck that. I don’t need to look down and see the horribleness I’m escaping. I don’t want to understand what’s going on, because there is no understanding.

There is only pain. Hurt. Anger.

Suddenly, I can feel the warmth of the sun as it beats down on my face.

I open my eyes. I’m at my favorite spot in the park, sitting under the big oak right in the middle. I’ve got a great view of the pond, and my favorite pen is pressed up against the corner of my lip. I stare down at where I left off on my story. Only a few seconds pass before the pen is moving across the page as if it’s possessed and my hand is just along for the ride.

I place myself inside my words, escaping into one of my fairytales like I never have before.

Two lovers, cursed by an evil sorcerer to forever to live on opposite sides of a vast lake, longed to be together. If they so much as stepped one toe inside the water, they’d be sucked to the bottom where they would surely drown.

But they grew tired, weary, and weak, living without the other. One day, they both jumped into the water. Desperate to be together, both were willing to risk drowning for the small possibility that they could reach one another before the curse took hold. Just as expected, the dark promise became a reality. The waters of the lake sucked them under and swirled them around and around until they were dizzy.

Though they knew it was their end, they both kept one hand stretched out toward the other as they were pulled deeper and deeper to the bottom of the lake. Because to them, death didn’t mean that all hope was lost.

At that exact moment, just as they were sure they’d drawn their very last breaths, their hands touched. They held on with all they had, wrapping their arms around each other.

Finally reunited after an eternity apart.

The dark waters cleared and calmed. Together, the lovers floated to the surface. But they didn’t stop there. They floated higher and higher above the water, hand in hand over the trees and through the clouds.

Life wasn’t worth living without the other.

They took the risk. They lost.

Or maybe, they won, depending on how you look at it.

And they died…happily ever after.





Twenty-Nine





Death is too easy a solution for Marco. Figures. The fucker is always doing shit the hard way.

I wake up groggy. Not sure if I’d slept, passed out, or died.

The searing pain from both inside and outside of my body lets me know that I am very much alive.

There is no floating for me. No hand bound in Grim’s.

No Grim anywhere.

There is only pain.

In my body.

In my heart.

When my vision clears, I find myself alone. I feel a rush of relief, but it’s short-lived when I find that I’m bound by both my hands and feet. Tied to the bed, my limbs spread like da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. My inner thighs hurt. Everything is sore. I feel as if I’d been scraped from the inside out with a coat hanger. Something smells like death. It’s me. There’s dried vomit on my chin and all over my naked skin. My legs are stained with streaks of my own urine, blood, and Marco’s cum.