Page 67 of Like A Moth To A Flame

“No,” I whispered.

He snarled. It sent a pulse of fear through me, but I was determined.

“If you want it, you have to tell me your name.”

I caught him off guard. I could hear it in his laugh.

“My name isDaddy. Now show me your pussy, little girl.”

“No,” I said again. “Make me.”

“I would think very carefully before you tempt me.”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

I expected him to scream, or maybe to threaten me. I expected anger, force, or begging.

What I didn’t expect was for him to hang up.

17

I’d do anything to have her to myself. Just to have her for myself…

Firefly

There was a pulsing pain that landed right between my eyes, throbbing with every quick breath I pulled in.

I wasn’t angry, at least not at her.

Never at her.

Frustration constricted my chest, until every heartbeat felt like the striking of a gong, and my hands were shaking.

If she were alone, I’d be there now. I’d show her what happened when she said no to me. I’d make her beg, just like I promised, and make her think twice about defying me. I wanted to, but she had a bodyguard. Maybe if I was quiet, I could sneak in and—

No. No, that was too risky.

It would simply have to wait until she was alone. My moth had called me—she had come to me. She would do it again, and when she did, she would cumforme.

My fingertips itched, burning with adrenaline. I could feel it surging through me until my blood pressure spiked to deadly peaks and my brain shifted into overdrive.

I needed to get it out. I needed to calm down before someone got hurt again.

Snatching my jacket off the back of a nearby chair, I kicked open the front door as I shrugged it on. I stepped out onto the porch, gulping down air as if my life depended on it, and maybe it did. I could see red pulsing at the edges of my vision, threatening to consume me, but I couldn’t give in.

I couldn’t let my frustration win. I’d end up in jail again.

The chill of the night air stung my face, but it also cleared my head, granting me the chance to take a breath and reevaluate my situation. I couldn’t afford to lose control. My grip tightened on the edge of the porch railing as I tried to slow my racing heartbeat. My mouth felt dry and bitter, a metallic tang lingering on my tongue as I fought to regain control of my emotions.

The steady thump of my heart echoed in my ears, beating a frantic rhythm as I worked to quiet my mind. The rustle of leaves in the wind created a soft melody to accompany my thoughts.

I needed a distraction.

I needed to breathe before I became a blind fury of rage.

I took the porch steps two at a time, and stumbled when my boots hit the uneven gravel driveway. I steadied myself and hurried to my truck, parked near the road. The sound of my own harsh breaths and racing heart drowned out all other noises. It was a symphony of rage, urging me to lose control. The wind whispered through the trees, adding to the chaotic chorus.

I fumbled with the door handle before I finally yanked it open and threw myself inside, digging the keys out of my pocket and slamming them into the engine.

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