Page 73 of Fame and Obsession

As he comes, I choke out a sob, exploding for the third time.

Still breathing heavily, Julian wraps his arms around me, a thin layer of sweat and shame coating us both. “Jesus, that was...”

I press my forehead against his chest and try not to think about the colossal mistake we’ve just made. “Yeah, it was.”

Twenty-One

Phoebe

“Princess, you’ve been a naughty little co-ed.”

A sharp pain sears through my head as hands grab the back of my hair and twist it, jerking me off my knees and back to a standing position. The minute he presses the knife against my stomach, I close my eyes.

No…

I let out a scream as he jerks my hair back so hard I see stars. Chuckling, he buries the handle into my ribcage, causing me to slam sideways into the car. Fighting to breathe, I lean my cheek on the trunk for a reprieve.

He takes full advantage of the situation.

Grabbing the back of my head, he shoves my face into the metal and holds me down. Gurgling sounds erupt before the vomit does, but in this position, I can’t get it out. It chokes me as it dribbles out of the corners of my mouth.

He doesn’t have to kill me. I’m going to drown in my own puke.

My chest burns as the liquid stagnates above my lungs. He trails the knife down the center of my back, the stench of his breath repulsing me.

“If you don’t open those baby blues, princess, I’m gonna gut you like a fish.” He turns my head to face him and forces my eyelids open. “Then you can say hi to your mama—in hell.”

I freeze at the mention of her name. Memories of the abuse she suffered at his hands cloud my head—the same abuse I suffer—and I get pissed.

The knife still pushes into my side, but I bury my fear. I know without a doubt I’m not leaving this parking lot alive.

It’s him or me—and I choose me.

“Wanna hear another bedtime story, princess?”

“Go to hell.” Taking advantage of his off-kilter stance, I twist to knee his crotch. But in my bent-over position, I can’t get my knee high enough to disable him.

Grabbing my hair, he jerks me off the car and pulls me back against him. I feel the blade slice through my skin and pierce the layers of muscle underneath.

And again. And again. And again.

I’m holding my breath, waiting for the numbness to take me, when I hear his final words before darkness falls.

“No matter where you run, I’ll always find you. Happy Halloween, princess.”

The tightness in my throat is the first thing to hit—as if I’m underwater, fighting against a powerful current. It suffocates me, and I contemplate sinking underneath the tide. Then my well-honed survival instinct kicks in, and I kick hard to climb to the surface. I hear my own screams as rough hands pull me back, yelling my name.

“Phoebe! Phoebe, stop it!”

“Let me go!” I scream, thrashing wildly.

“Phoebe, wake up! Stop screaming, and wake up!” Fingers dig into my skin, and a huge weight presses on top of me.

I blink repeatedly and fight him as light floods in. The minute the darkness fades, pillows and sheets come into focus, and I bolt upright to collide with strong hands holding me down.

“Phoebe, you’re safe. You had a nightmare.”

My voice feels scratchy as I work for the one word rolling around in my head. “Where?” The breath on my shoulder becomes heavier, and my hands claw at the sheet pooling beneath my bare chest.

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