“Where are we going?” I whisper in a small voice, scared and nervous for what might happen.
He pulls my arm, hauling me away from the dance room at the stadium.
“Aster?” I question, my voice frantic. I’m shaking, my entire body tense with each step. I feel like I’m walking to my demise, like this Aster guy is worse than what they say. I’m terrified.
But Brax promised to protect me, to make sure no one can hurt me. He promised.
“Sh, princess,” he coos like I’m a frightened child, and he has to soften the blow.
When I attempt to tug my arm free, he stops our journey and backhands me.
Tears spring to my eyes as the pain erupts in my cheek, but I refuse to scream. It’s what he wants. He needs my pain.
“I’m sorry, princess. You need to stop struggling,” he says gently.
He wipes the tears from my eyes with his other hand and only then removes my hand from where he hit me. The throbbing intensifies. Leaning in close, he kisses the spot, making the pain worsen.
“Please, Aster…” I plead, tears freely streaming my face. “Don’t do this.”
“You see, Leia, I’ve been waiting for a moment to get you alone, but that little punk is always around you, and it makes things… difficult.”
The deadness in his voice has me shivering. He’s not remorseful. He’s been planning this, and I’m the stupid one who decided to go with him.
This is fucked up.
He’s tugging me toward the balcony, and the fear that was momentarily overcome by pain is now resurfacing. Aster takes me in close, closing the door behind us. He spins me like a dad would do with his child, making me dizzy.
He brings his chest to mine then puts his mouth on me. I shift, trying to avoid his kiss, but he grips my jaw, holding it while he attacks me with his tongue.
With what I have left in me, I bite him until I taste blood.
“You bitch!” he roars before choking me.
This isn’t like with Sy. Sy’s calm and sweet in his own way, and demanding in another that makes me crumble. Aster is furious, dangerous, and hurting me.
I can’t breathe.
My windpipe feels completely closed off, but he hasn’t stopped. When I start to see black spots, he eases off.
“Don’t fucking try me, Leia.”
I nod placidly, defeated and exhausted from the trauma he inflicted.
“Good. Now take that fucking dress off.”
Tears continue to burn down my cheeks, marking this moment on my skin and within my soul. He wouldn’t. He won’t. Right?
My stomach lurches, and I swallow back the bile that threatens to take over.
“Please, Aster,” I beg one more time, praying the monster calms and lets me go.
“The dress, Leia. Off.”
The finality in his tone has me shaking from head to toe. I slowly reach behind me, attempting to reach the zipper but struggling from the fear wracking my body.
“Are you that fucking helpless, princess?” he admonishes, reaching the closure and dragging it downward, I feel my dress’s stitches rip from his aggression. It slowly falls away from my body. I try to cover myself up, but he stops me. “Even more appetizing than I imagined,” he appraises, touching me in places he shouldn’t, acting as if I’m a fucking treat rather than a human being.
I’ve never felt so degraded, so cheapened.
I’m nothing. Whore. Slut. Helpless. Just like Darryl always said.
His hand seizes my breast. He’s so rough that I cry out. His nails dig into my flesh, and he keeps squeezing harder. I whimper in response, unwilling to say anything after the last time.
Aster watches me with narrowed eyes. The evil I never noticed before is there now. He smirks and then leans in, taking my mouth again. He shoves his tongue inside, swirling around, and I have to hold back with every strength in me not to bite him again.
Pulling back, he leans into my body. When his teeth sink into my breast, I scream.
He smacks a palm over my mouth. “Shut the fuck up and take it.”
My heart pounds. I can feel it on my skin, like it’s beating there rather than in my chest.
“Remember, princess, you asked for this with those fuck-me eyes and your fuck-me feigned innocence. You want this, and I’ll show you what happens when you tease.”
His hand roughly moves my panties away, and then he’s touching my most private place, which has only ever been touched in degradation. First Darryl and now this disgusting excuse for a human. Not even Sy, the man I want, has touched me there. I cry, sobs wreaking havoc on me. His fingers invade me, and I cringe into myself.
He’s not welcome. He’s disgusting.
When he attempts to enter me with his fingers, I thrash. No. This won’t be how it happens. This won’t be how I lose my virginity. No!
“Stop!” I screech, wailing, throwing punches at him. “I said stop!” I finally knee him in the groin, and he backs up a bit.
“Fuck!” he hollers, holding himself.
Aster bends at the knee, yelling obscenities. I hurry and pick up my dress, trying to hold it to my body.
“If you follow me, I’ll scream rape.” I barely get the words out before kicking him again. He falls to his knees in a heap of whimpers. My feet know their destination before I do. They patter on the ground, clicking and making my ankles tense with each step. I’m unstable when in tennis shoes, never mind the heels I decided to wear.
I run faster than I’ve ever ran before. I trip over my feet several times and barely make it to the stairs without people seeing. If he couldn’t see where the elevator stops, I’d have taken it. But with the fear that he’s probably chasing me, I decide on the stairs.
My wristlet that has my phone tucked inside is still on me. I pull out my phone, my fingers dialing shakily before my head even wraps around what just happened.
“Mi corazón,” his bereft voice sounds on the phone.
I’m sobbing. I can’t even conjure a coherent sentence.
“Where are you?” he demands, his tone deadly.
I can’t bring myself to stop crying. “P-Please… S-Sy…”
“Leia, baby. Please, tell me where you are,” he pleads softly.
I can hear the horror in his voice. He’s probably shaking in rage.
“C-Cape H-Hill… Stadium,” I stutter, barely holding myself together. “P-Please hurry, Sy.”
I exit the stairs on the twenty-seventh floor. Peering around me, I don’t hear or see Aster following me, but that doesn’t stop me from hiding, fear winning this moment. After waiting fifteen minutes, I search the floor for the elevator. It shows it’s coming up before I hit the button, and I immediately regret the action.
My stomach clenches. Please don’t be him. My body continues to shake, my teeth clattering, echoing in the darkened room. I watch as the numbers rise, praying nothing worse happens. I’m so fucking terrified.
With each rise of the number, bile rises in my throat. I should’ve kept going, should have ran down the stairs, but I’m stuck now. The shock has settled in, the fear completely taking over my body. He’s coming for me. I don’t have it in me to fight again.
I’m weak.
The number reads twenty-seven, and the beeping, notifying the elevator has reached me, sounds out. The door glides open, and I’m crying as I fall to the ground.
“Please, please, please don’t hurt me,” I wail, not looking up in fear it’ll upset him.
Hands encircle my waist, and I’m fighting as much as I can, but I’m exhausted. I’m barely holding on.
“Mi corazon, baby,” Sy soothes, his deep timbre reverberating through my ears. “I’m here, I’m here.” He keeps repeating that until I calm.
My snot, tears, and slobber cake onto his casual button-up t-shirt. I’m soaking him with everything I have—all the terror, the love, and the sorrow.
Sy is here.
He protected me.
He saved me.
My heart so
ars at the knowledge but sinks at the situation I’m in.
When my breathing is even, he starts asking me questions. My mind is too tired to answer them all. I’m fighting unconsciousness in his arms. He’s safe. He’s my heart, my home, my peace.
“He tried to rape me,” I barely whisper. Admitting that to not only him but myself has me trembling again. “H-He hurt me so badly.”
“Who, baby? Who hurt you?” he coaxes, rocking me back and forth.
He’s being too sweet. Since my birthday, this is the closest we’ve been. He’s being so tender that I cry for that too. Everything weighs on me all at once, suffocating me. I wish this moment would last forever. If it were my last moment with Sy, I would accept it. I would accept being in his arms surrounded by his love one last time.
“Aster,” I mutter. “The boy who I was supposed to go to the dance with.”
A growl leaves him. I feel the rumbling against my chest. “Where’s Braxton?” he barks, his anger nearly uncontrollable. He’s about to lose it. I can tell.
“It’s not his fault, Sy.”
“The fuck it isn’t. ¡Él es el culpable! He was supposed to protect you!” He’s visibly shaking with anger, and it terrifies me.
“Please just take me home, Sy. Please,” I implore.
His storming, gray eyes meet mine. I’ve never seen Sy’s hair in such disarray. Was he sleeping? No, it’s only eight at night. My mind goes to places. I hope he wasn’t with a woman who was running her hands through his hair. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t go to another, right? He’d wait for me? He’ll eventually love me. Right? Tears form behind my eyelids again, and I pray that my mind stops focusing on his hair.
There’s such turmoil in the vast grayness of his eyes. He closes them as if he’s in physical pain, and I’m aching, knowing it’s my fault.
All of this.
It’s my fault.
“Okay,” he caves, lifting me up and carrying me into the elevator.
“Make me forget, Sy,” I beg, needing him to replace the touches of an unwelcome person. Just to hold me until I sleep. I need him to lie and tell me it’ll all be okay.
“I-I can’t,” he replies sadly, squeezing me closer to him. “We can’t.”
The finality in his answer has me wishing I could die or that I could disappear in my mind and never escape.
That would be better than the darkness swallowing me whole, telling me this isn’t over yet.
Aster will come back for me.
I’m no longer safe.
“You broke me, Sy. I can’t do this anymore. We said goodbye in Puerto Rico. You said no more. The other night was a lapse in judgement. You’re still my stepdad.” Her voice is so small on the other end of the phone.
Before I can respond, she’s hung up on me. She’s right. I didn’t choose her, not in her eyes, at least. But everything I do is for her.
I caved tonight. After drowning myself in tequila, I called her. I’m so fucking stupid, but I needed to hear her voice. She’s avoided me and ignored my calls, and she hasn’t been around since we recoupled. I need her more than my next breath. I’m fucking drowning without her.
I can’t live a life where she’s not mine, one where she’s not the spotlight guiding me to happiness, one where I don’t earn every second spent with her.
Stumbling a bit trying to execute getting out of bed, I hope I’m sober enough to drive. I shouldn’t drive, but I need to get to her before it’s too late. It’s probably already too late, but I need her.
After putting on some jeans and a buttoned-down shirt, I race out the door. The door to my car is already unlocked, and by the time I’m buckled and ready to leave, I realize I don’t know where the fuck she even is.
“Okay, Google,” I say. It beeps, my phone and car linked to Bluetooth. “Call Xiomara.”
“Calling Jake’s Pizzeria”
“No!” I yell. “Call Xiomara.”
“Calling Xiomara Cell.”
It rings twice before she answers. “Sy, what’s up?”
“Where’s Leia?”
“Why?” she asks, curiosity lacing her voice. “You’re not about to do something stupid right?”
“Where is she?” I demand, edgy from the booze and phone call.
“She went to some party with Brax. When Brax told me he wanted her to have some teenage fun, I thought why the hell not?”
“Xo,” I growl impatiently.
“He said it was an Aster Party. Whatever the fuck that means.” She laughs on the other end, while I’m seeing red.
One name I’ll never forget is Aster Blakely. The kid I wanted to kill. The kid I almost did kill.
“Gotta go,” I get out before hanging up and speeding off. I’m on my way to Ames Street before I can think straight. I know where he lives. I made sure to wait until his drunk ass got home that night I nearly lost everything.
The vintage, too big yet too old, three-story building sitting off Ames Street stares back at me. It’s like that night but more lit up. The Victorian appearance is unfitting for a place as small as Cape Hill.
It’s quiet, though—too quiet. There’s no way this house is holding a party. Did Xo lie to me? She wouldn’t, not even if she’s still upset about my decision.
You can’t take anything at face value, so I park my car down the street and make my way on foot to the house that held the boy I’d nearly killed.
When I’m face-to-face with the too-white door, the urge to demolish it with my foot swells inside me. As my inner debate goes on, the door opens.
“Sir, you standing at our door is making us anxious. Are you one of those vile Vipers? Do we need to call the police?” she questions guardedly.
I laugh derisively and attempt to cover it up. “Sorry, senorita,” I lay it on thick. “I’m searching for my daughter.”
Which isn’t exactly untrue, just creepy in every sense.
“Oh! I thought you looked familiar! You’re Leia’s stepdad, yeah?”
Feeling awkward, I nod stiffly. “Yes, she said she’d be at an Aster party. I figured that meant here. Either way, her mamá is worried sick.”
“Oh, sweetheart, that’s horrible!” she says, gripping her chest, bereft. “Aster is living at Kappa Pi Beta at the University of Cape Hill.”
With a small smile, I grab her palm softly, playing this nice guy act out. “Gracias, Mrs. Blakely.”
A blush creeps up her throat, tinting her cheeks as she twirls a strand of hair with her finger like a lovestruck teenager. “It’s no problem,” she plays it off, but her tone has changed. More sultry. More desperate. More like the women I deal with at the club.
I’m not interested in any of them, including this one. It’s Leia I want to love, to be with, to impress, and to take care of.
“I better go,” I say uncomfortably and turn away. Practically running to my car, I decide that if Leia is okay, I’ll let her be. If she’s not, I’ll most likely be going to prison.
It only takes thirty minutes to get to this frat house, and after mulling through drunken kids, I’m about ready to rage out. There’s too many risks, especially for these women. They’re so trusting and naïve, and these boys are volatile and dangerous.
But now isn’t the time to save them all. It’s about Leia and this horrible feeling paralyzing me. She’s nowhere to be found, and the only place I haven’t checked is the back yard.
Palming the sliding back door handle, I head directly out there. It’s not brightly lit. If anything, it’s a little too dim, but the whimper I hear in the first ten seconds has me on edge.
“Stop!”
Her frantic voice breaks through the quiet air, chilling me to the bone. She’s terrified. I can hear it in the tenor of her voice.
I’m rushing toward her fearful screams that are suddenly muffled, and I’m sure his hands are on her, where his hands and no one else’s belong. When I round the house, seeing the fence he has her pinned against, I growl as I rush them.
“Get your fucking
hands off her,” I spit maliciously. My voice sounds deadly, and it is. I’m so very close to exploding, to killing this pendejo.
Leia’s frantic gaze connects with mine. Even with tears and makeup smeared on her face, I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight.
When he doesn’t immediately let her go, I grab him by the throat.
He squirms. “S-Stop!” he begs brokenly.
“What did you think you would do? That you’d finish the job you couldn’t finish last time, hmm?” I bark, spittle leaving my lips, landing haphazardly onto his little gremlin face. “Think that I’d not come for her? Not risk it all and do every-fucking-thing in my power to keep her safe?”
“N-No… I-I—”
“N-No…I-I…” I mock disdainfully, “Puto cobarde! Metete con alguien de tu tamaño coño! You’re a waste of fucking space.” Fucking coward! Mess with someone your own size, you pussy bitch!
He cries, the poor mamabicho. Dick sucker.
“S-Sy,” Leia whimpers.
My attention immediately changes course to her. The only other time she was this helpless also included this little fucker.
The rage comes back. It clouds over me, devouring my conscience entirely. One hand squeezes his throat as my vision fogs over with disgust and hatred. My other, though, cocks backward on its own, and then it’s connecting with his nose. Luckily, I practically hold his weight since he collapses with the sickening crunch. The blood splatters, hitting my face, but I can’t seem to stop. The red from his blood doesn’t compare to the stain of my abhorrence for him.
Thoughts filter in my mind about Danté, about being tortured, about losing everything.
“I told you to stay away from her, Silas. I fucking warned you!” Danté roars before sliding the knife from the right of my torso to the left.
Wine red seeps from the gnash on my chest, dripping in lines like syrup. It’s thicker than Elmer’s glue, sliding down so slowly. My eyes close on their own accord, the pain not receding like usual. I hear the metal of the blade clink with the ground, and then D stands in front of me.
His face isn’t its normal Rey self. There’s no pride or certainty. There is no power or strength. All that’s left is an unhinged man who lost his way.
Always (Cape Hill Book 3) Page 18
