Page 62 of Wicked Vile King
But then again, if he really is back and I didn't fully lose my mind, maybe he'll live up to his threats and let the two ogres that threatened me before, Dean and Zane, have their way with me. They were animals last night, the bigger one brutalizing the smaller one. The memory detonates like a grenade in my skull, the two of them going at it, grunting to the clapping of skin-against-skin.
Just like it sounded when Saint . . .
Another bomb explodes inside my brain.
In this one, Saint takes what he wanted from the woman in the library, the cords in his neck jutting out as he ruts into her like a madman, locks eyes with me, and doesn't blink.
Bile nips at my esophagus.
I'm going to be sick. I quickly quell my rising urge to vomit.
What happens if I tell Dr. Cross and Saint gives me to the two of them? Or even worse, lives up to his promise to slit my wrists and let the man they call the Butcher lock me away.
At least I'm safe with Saint, and it's nice feeling safe in a place that mostly makes me feel like I'm walking on eggshells and waiting for the impending crack, like if I break the wrong one, then disembodied knives waiting in the shadows will shoot out and stab me where I stand.
Like I said, it's nice feeling safe.
And his mouth on you was nice too.
I stomp out the disastrous thought, though I can't stop the memories that come flooding back with it.
The crinkle of the body bag as I stared wide-eyed into the dark, my breath picking up speed.
The heavy weight of the plastic as it seemed to squeeze tighter, clenching around my middle as the teeth of the zipper locked shut.
The burn of his touch just below my belly button, incinerating the last memory of my mother as it crawled out of the darkness and tried to pay me a visit.
The brush of his lips between my legs and the bruising grip of his large hands pushing my thighs apart before he feasted on me.
The supernova he erupted inside of me, burning the darkness along with it.
I don't want to think about what he did, but I can't forget.
I tell myself it's not the reason I don't run to Cross's office and spill my guts, and it'sdefinitelynot the reason I leave his brand on my neck, the collar that was once suffocating, but not anymore. If anything, it feels like a safety blanket wrapped around my throat, cinching me tight and bringing with it calm. Yet all of the words I tell myself and the reasons I don't run feel like lies even to my own ears.
Trixie knows something is up.
In fairness, it would be hard not to with the collar latched around my throat. She practically lasered a hole through the leather with her eyes yesterday but never forced the topic. She just asked if I was okay and then told me she was here for me if I wanted to talk. She gets her meds before me this morning, and as I wait in line for the pills Dr. Cross insists will make me better, I feel Saint arrive at my side, slipping to the front of the line beside me, so that we are each handed our meds at the same time.
He glances over at me, and I feel his blue-eyed gaze rather than see it, as I accept a small cup of water from the guard through a hole in the glass window. His inky hair falls into his eyes, and he swipes it up his forehead as he tosses me a lopsided grin that tests every lie I've told myself this morning.
"Wanna trade?" he asks with a flash of his perfect, straight teeth.
The nurse behind the counter grumbles, "Stop messing around and swallow."
Saint rolls his eyes as Kill arrives at his side and looks down at the paper cup dwarfed in Saint's large hand.
"Aw, take them, Saint," he says with a wink directed at me. Then he looks back at his friend. "Hell, they might even make your dick grow bigger."
Gabe snorts behind them as Saint's grin falls and he looks at Kill, his expression stoic.
"Oh," he says, "do you need them then?"
I can't help it. I cough with a laugh as the students nearby erupt into howls of laughter. Kill shoots them a look that shuts them up quickly.
I take my pills as Saint swallows his. Then I open my mouth and hold up my tongue for the guard.
"Next," he tells the line, dismissing me.
