by J. L. Beck
“Please, let me come.” I gasp once more as he adds a second finger—a tinge of pain mixes with the pleasure at the intrusion, but the ache in my core intensifies.
I’m rushing toward the finish line, and he knows it, his own movements get faster, and when his thumb brushes against my clit, sparks fly.
Gritting his teeth, he looks up at me, the blue of his eyes intense. “Your pussy is so sloppy. It’s making a mess of my hand.”
“Oh, god.” I tip my head back, the pleasure rising. My nipples pucker, and my entire body trembles like I’m walking a tightrope.
“I want you to remember who owns you here. I want you to remember that I can do whatever I want to you, whenever I want to. Say it. Tell me it’s true.”
Unable to stop myself, caught between the pleasure and the need for him to continue, I let out a strangled, yes, and like the asshole he is, his eyes gleam, and he pumps into me faster until I’m cresting the wave of pleasure.
Light blinds my eyes, and my entire body is suspended in time. My muscles twitch, my core tightens, and my channel clenches around his fingers. My entire body trembles as I float down slowly from heaven, and back down to hell, my current reality.
By the time I’ve come down from the high of coming, I’m a goopy mess, and Quinton makes quick work of wrapping me in a blanket, swaddling me like a baby, before placing me on the floor next to the bed. My head hits the pillow, and I’m out almost immediately.
I wake up disoriented. So much so that it takes me a moment to realize where the loud banging sound is coming from. I fight my way out of the blanket that is tightly wrapped around my naked body and look around the room. The loud banging increases, and I know it’s coming from my door.
My first thought is that this can only be Quinton, but he has a key card, so he wouldn’t knock.
“Hold on,” I croak, getting up, forcing my stiff limbs to move.
As soon as I’m standing, the room starts spinning, and I have to put my hand against the wall to steady myself.
There is another knock on the door, and it’s like the sound has a direct line to my brain, making a rattle inside my skull.
“Jesus, hold on. I’m coming!” Dropping the blanket around me completely, I make quick work of finding my clothes and getting dressed. I pull the door open ready to cuss out whoever’s interrupting my sleep, just to come to a screeching halt when I see the janitor on the other side, a brand new mattress propped up next to him.
“I’m supposed to drop this off,” he says before sliding the mattress into my room. It’s only halfway in when he turns around and walks off, leaving me standing there dumbfounded.
Coming back to my senses, I pull the heavy thing inside and close the door with my foot. It takes all my strength to push it up on the bed and let it settle on the bed rails. I’m out of breath, and another wave of dizziness comes over me. I don’t know why I’m so freaking weak until my stomach growls, reminding me of the lack of nutrition in my life. I guess the food deficiency is finally catching up with me.
Checking the time, I play with the idea of walking to the cafeteria and seeing if they have anything I can eat, but even that seems like such a waste of energy. All I wanna do is lie down and go back to sleep. Maybe I still have some leftovers that will tide me over.
Still half asleep, I start scouring my room for anything, for any snack that I possibly could have forgotten about. Inwardly, I scream eureka when I find a half-eaten wrapped-up cheese sandwich. I try to remember when I picked it up and how old it is. But the thought evaporates when I unwrap it, and the scent of rotten food greets me.
Immediately, my stomach turns from hungry to sick. Gagging, I slap my hand in front of my mouth and run into the bathroom. I make it to the toilet just in time to start hurling and throw up every tiny thing I got to eat yesterday, which isn’t much. Still, I keep heaving until my throat hurts and my back muscles are sore. It feels like I’m throwing up for a good ten minutes, and all that’s coming out now is stomach acid.
Slumping next to the toilet, I catch my breath. When I feel like I can finally get up, I push to my feet but have to hold the sink a while just to be able to make it into my room. I down a bottle of water I had sitting next to my bed, then grab the blanket and pillow from the ground and climb onto my new mattress, curling up in the fetal position. I hope that this will pass quickly, and I can get something real to eat today.
Maybe I should have bargained for food instead of for safety from Matteo. Food… that will definitely be the next thing I ask for. If there even is a next time?
Then Quinton’s words from last night ring in my ear… “I can’t wait to claim this pussy, to mark it with my cum, and see its virgin blood on my cock.” He is already planning on doing this again, making deals with me for whatever fantasy he wants to play out. Next time, I’ll be better prepared. I’ll use his needs to my advantage, to fill my own.
Closing my eyes, I try my best to calm my stomach and go to sleep, at least for a little bit longer. But the constant nausea mixed with the aching pain of hunger makes it hard to find any rest.
For the next few hours, I fight a losing battle between sleep, hunger, and pain. A part of me knows I would feel better if I got something to eat and drink, but I can’t muster up the strength to get up and go to the cafeteria.
Suddenly, I start feeling really cold, even with a thick blanket wrapped around me, and I start shivering so hard my teeth clink together. The next thing I know, the cold is gone, replaced with a heat so strong flames are dancing over my skin. I kick the blanket off, and even with only wearing a thin shirt and leggings, I feel so hot. When I run my hands down my clothes, I notice they are soaked in sweat.
Fuck, I must have a fever. I try to get up, but my legs give out as soon as my feet touch the floor, and I crumple to the ground like I’m boneless. As I lie in a heap on the floor, the only solace I can find is that the cold concrete actually feels nice on my burning skin.
Not in a million years would I have thought I would ever wish for Quinton to waltz into my room unannounced, but I do now. I think he would take me to the doctor. After all, he can’t torment me if I’m dead, and right now, I sure as hell feel like I’m dying.
17
QUINTON
It’s been almost forty-eight hours since I left Aspen’s cocooned body in her room. Even though I’ve showered twice since then, I swear I can still smell her on me. Her sweet floral scent makes my cock hard.
I should have known she was a virgin. I shouldn’t have been as shocked as I was. The knowledge of knowing that I’m going to be her first is enticing. I really wanted to go and fuck her last night, but I also want to savor the control I have over her. I want to draw it out and build up to the main event.
Plus, I love having her on her knees, looking up at me with those innocent doe eyes of hers. An innocence I’m going to snuff out. My cock is getting hard thinking about it, and a plan forms in my mind. I’m going to visit her in her room tonight and make her another offer. She is desperate, and I’m going to use that to my full advantage.
“Do you ever sleep?” Ren asks, his voice raspy. He is sprawled out on the other couch with his eyes half-closed.
“Sometimes.” I shrug.
“Well, some of us do it every night. So, that’s what I’m doing now,” he groans, pushing himself up on his feet.
“Before you go to bed, did Matteo say anything else about Aspen?”
“What do you mean?”
“I told him to stay away from her. I just want to make sure he’s listening and not going behind my back to talk a bunch of shit.”
Ren’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that so? Why the sudden change of heart?”
“There hasn’t been a change. One, Aspen is mine to torment. Two, Matteo needs to learn his place.”
“The only thing I heard him say is that she didn’t show up to class today and that she’s probably hiding in her room or something.” He shrugs.
“All right.”
&
nbsp; Ren nods and disappears into his room.
I wait a few more minutes before I get up and slip on my shoes. I smile deviously to myself. It’s time to pay my little toy a visit.
With her key card in hand, I make my way across the dorm to her room. While I’m walking, I think about how I didn’t see her today or hear anyone talking about her either. Normally, there is at least a little bit of chatter about the rat, but there was nothing today or yesterday.
Could she really be hiding out? Maybe she is ashamed about how I made her come, ashamed of how much she liked it. The thought makes me smile with glee.
When I get to her door, I slide the card quickly and push into her room. Before I’m even all the way in the room, I know something is wrong. Instead of the normal flowery scent that is Aspen, the space reeks of puke and sweat.
Wrinkling my nose, I step into the room and pause. My eyes land on the small body sprawled out in the center of the room. For a single moment, my heart stops, and I’m frozen in time. In my mind, I’m rushing toward the unconscious girl, but my limbs won’t work. All I can do is stand there and look at her.
She’s on her stomach with her cheek pressed against the concrete floor, facing my way. Strands of her blond hair sticking to her forehead as if she is sweating, her eyes are closed, and her lips are parted slightly. Her skin is so pale; it’s basically white. The only coloration is the purple around her eyes.
The room is completely quiet; the only thing I can hear is the rapid beating of my heart and my shallow breathing. Only when I hear the raspy sound of a labored breath does my body seem to work again.
I shove into the room and kneel next to her. Using the back of my hand, I touch her cheek, hoping that will wake her up. I pull my hand away quickly as if burned by a hot iron because that’s what it feels like. She’s so fucking hot. She’s burning up.
Sliding my arms under her, I lift her body off the floor, noticing how light she feels. Way too light.
It’s after midnight, and there’s no one out in the hall, so I jog almost the whole way to medical. I hold her to my chest tightly, making sure her head doesn’t bounce around like crazy, but even the continual jogging doesn’t wake her. With each rushed step I take, I get more worried.
How long has she been lying there like this?
The school medical building is basically a small state-of-the-art hospital, so I’m not worried about them not being able to help her. I just hope someone’s there. As I get closer, I see the light inside is on, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Using my shoulders, I push open the large double doors. Like a small emergency room, there is a nurses’ station up front, and right past it, the open space of sections for patients. The sound of the doors opening has one of the nurses rushing to the front to greet me. As soon as she sees me, her face goes pale, and her eyes widen.
She waves me over to a bed. “Here, put her down right here.”
I carefully place her on the bed, and the nurse starts working on her immediately, taking her vitals and firing off questions at me.
“Do you know what happened to her? How long has she been unconscious? Is she allergic to anything? Any family history of diseases? How long has she had a fever?”
“Lady, I don’t fucking know. I don’t know any of this.”
“Okay.” She continues working on her, and then a machine starts beeping. “Fuck!”
“What?”
“Her temperature. It’s 107.1. We need to get her fever down before we do anything else. If she’s been like this for a while, she is in serious trouble. You need to get some wet towels. Over there, in the cabinet. Get all the towels, get them wet and bring it here,” she orders while prepping Aspen’s arm for an IV.
I spring into action and walk over to the cabinet. Opening it, I grab as much as I can, and dump them in the sink to get them back, before bringing them to the bed Aspen is in.
“Just drape them over her.”
When I return with the wet towels, I start spreading them over Aspen’s body while the nurse draws blood from her other arm.
“She’s dehydrated. I can barely find a vein.”
“No offense, but shouldn’t we call a doctor?”
“I am the doctor,” she states without so much as glancing at me. I stare at her a little bit longer. She looks way too young to be a doctor. As a matter of fact, she looks too young to be a nurse.
“Is there anything else I can do?”
“No, not right now. Just stand back a little bit and let me work.”
I take one tiny step back, but I can’t bring myself to put more distance between Aspen and me. Silently, I watch the doctor work, hooking Aspen up to machines, taking samples, and running back and forth to her desk.
I hate hospitals. The smell, the bright lights, the machines. I hate it all because it reminds me of Adela. Of her time at the hospital, a time when we still had hope that she would recover, that she was gonna be okay. The doctors gave us hope, but we lost her anyway.
“Her oxygen is normal, but her iron is extremely low. High fever, dehydration…” The doc keeps mumbling to herself, some stuff I can barely make sense of. “All right, her fever is starting to come down a bit. Let me make some calls.”
She walks back over to her desk and picks up the phone. I’m not paying much attention until I hear her voice booming through the room. “I need you to come to the medical bay right now… No, I’m not joking… I said right now, and no, it cannot wait until morning. I said right now!” she yells into the phone before slamming it down on the receiver, and I wonder who the hell she just called.
For the next thirty minutes, I just stand back and watch as the doctor keeps running all kinds of tests. Aspen never even moves, remaining immobile and in complete silence. The only sounds around us are the low beeping of the heart monitor and other machines.
Suddenly, the front door opens, and a very angry, still sleepy-looking Lucas Diavolo walks in.
“This better be good,” he grumbles, and then his eyes fall on Aspen lying in the bed, dead to the world. “What’s wrong with her?”
“He found her like this earlier and brought her here. She’s extremely dehydrated, has a high fever, and is malnourished,” the doctor explains.
Lucas looks at me, raising his eyebrow in question, but luckily, he doesn’t ask where I found her and why I brought her here. Instead, he directs his attention back to the doctor. “So give her some medicine.”
“I have, but her fever was over 107 when she got here, and I don’t know how long she was like that. You need to call her parents and get them here.”
At the mention of her parents, a bad taste forms in my mouth. I know her father is in prison, so he won’t be coming, but I know her mother played a role in the betrayal as well, and if she comes here, I don’t know that I’ll be able to maintain my cool.
“We don’t have parents come because their kids are sick. What kind of place do you think this is?”
“I don’t think you understand how serious the situation is.”
“I get it. She’s sick. So give her some meds and send her back to the dorm. I’ll excuse her from class for a few days.” Lucas waves her off, trying to step past her and back to where he came from, but the doctor stops him with a hand to his chest.
“Lucas,” the doctor scolds him, and I’m surprised that she calls him by his first name, “let me make this really clear, so you understand… I don’t know if she’s going to make it through the night.”
Lucas stiffens, standing up a little straighter, and so do I. His eyes go wide, all the sleep in them gone.
“What do you mean she’s not gonna make it through the night?”
She drops her hand from Lucas’s chest and walks over to Aspen’s bed again. “I said I’m not sure if she’s gonna make it, not that she won’t. She is really sick, Lucas. Her body is weak, but you know me. I’ll do everything I can. I got the fever to come down, so that’s good. I’m running tests on her liver and kidney function, but f
rom what I can tell just by examining her, it looks like her organs are failing.”
“Fuck! Okay, I’ll call her parents.” Lucas nods, his face suddenly pale. “Keep me updated.”
He leaves, and the doc sits down by Aspen’s bed, taking her hand into hers and simply holding it.
“Come on,” she whispers. “You need to fight. You are too young to die.”
The words slowly sink in. Aspen could… she could actually die…
I’m no stranger to death by any means, but this feels different. Most people think, me being who I am, I must have killed people before. But the truth is, I haven’t. I’ve seen people die. I’ve beaten people up, tortured them for information, but I’ve never actually killed someone.
If Aspen dies, it will be partly my fault. I knew she hadn’t been eating or at least not well. I watched her leave the cafeteria empty-handed. I saw how skinny she was, but instead of offering her food, I held on to that information as a bargaining chip.
If she dies today, her blood will be on my hands.
18
ASPEN
I blink my eyes open and wish I hadn’t the instant I do. Bright yellow lights shine from above. The world around me spins, making my stomach churn. Dear Lord, do not let me throw up again. A groan slips past my dry lips as I roll to my side only to realize that I’m on a bed, well, a cot, and no longer in my dorm room.
Disoriented, I force myself to sit up a little faster than necessary and almost tip over.
“Slow down. You’re going to make yourself sick.” A voice carries into my ears, and I swing my head in the direction of the voice, only to discover a young woman and Quinton in the small room that is definitely not my dorm.
“Where am I?” The last thing I remember is being so hot it felt like my skin was on fire. Now I don’t feel nearly as hot, but my thoughts are sluggish, making it hard for me to piece the puzzle together.
