Page 14 of Outbreak

Deciding to treat him as he has been treating me, I turn my back to him, walking as far as my leash will allow. I slide my ripped leggings down over my ass and squat, relieving myself on the ground.

“No panties, huh?”

“Nope,” I snap, popping the p in irritation. “Did you happen to think about grabbing some napkins, or should I just wag my ass like a good little bitch and drip dry?”

“That muzzle is sounding better and better every time you open that pretty little mouth of yours,” he says, walking closer behind me. I nearly fall on my face when I feel the rough texture of the napkin and his hand between my legs, cleaning me up.

“Oh my fucking God! What are you doing?” I yell, scrambling to get my balance and snatching my pants back up.

“Just giving you a helping hand,” he says, and I can feel the fucking smirk even if I can’t see it. “Seems like you could really use one.”

He holds the napkin in front of my face, and the evidence of my arousal glistening back at me makes me wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole. Mortification burns through me hotter than I’ve felt in a while, and I don’t know why it bothers me so much. I’ve been through so much worse.

“I was thinking about my boyfriend.” I lie and immediately feel my face flame brighter, like a flashing red beacon of my deception.

He moves so fast I don’t even know what’s happening until my back hits a tree trunk and his body presses tightly to mine. “That fuckboy couldn’t get you off if your pussy came with an instruction manual and pretty little pictures for him to follow. And let’s not forget that you caught him balls deep in a very dead blonde tonight at that party,” he says into my neck, inhaling deeply and running his nose up the sensitive skin. “So tell me the truth, Rue. What’s got your little cunt so excited?”

“Fuck you,” I spit, hatred spreading like acid in my veins.

“Begging so soon?” He pulls back to stare down at me. His lips ghost over mine, and he growls against them. An actual, honest to God, growl. “You haven’t earned it yet. But you fucking will.”

Pushing off the tree, he pulls the leash tight and turns around. I don’t have time to even process what the fuck he said before he starts walking back to the truck, dragging me behind him. My boots catch on a tree root because the fucker’s long ass legs won’t let me catch up quick enough.

“Ahhhhh!” I scream, broken twigs digging into my palms and through the rips on my leggings. My fall pulls him to a stop, and he steps towards me, looming over me like a fucking giant.A giant fuckface.

“Look at you,” he teases, and I imagine stabbing him in the eye with a stick. “You look so good on your knees for me. Collared and waiting on my command. Looks like I picked the right bitch after all.” He walks behind me, and I stare ahead like a deer in the headlights. His words have stunned me stupid, apparently. “Crawl.”

“W-what?” I stammer at his deep command, my head a fuzzy mess from this shit.

“Since you seem to like it down there so much, crawl back to the truck.”

Okay. Snap the fuck out of it, Rue!

“The fuck I will,” I snap, pushing myself up on my knees to get up. “You’re pushing your luck, asshole. I don’t crawl for anyone.”

I slap my hands together, dusting off the dirt and debris that clings there. He’s fucking lucky I didn’t fall into where I just peed. I think I would have clawed his eyes out. Giving him a saccharine smile that hopefully conveys ‘fuck you’properly, I spin around, marching back to the truck with more determination than a cheap whore when rent is due.

He can fuck all the way off.

I’m done. I’m not playing his stupid little games anymore. I don’t care how my body reacts to him—clearly that bitch has gone off the rails and cannot be trusted to make decisions. But I don’t make it very far in my trek before he pulls the leash.

My back crashes into his hard chest as he catches me, twisting the leash several times around his hand to shorten my reach. His other hand comes to my heaving chest, and I know he can feel my heartbeat pounding against it. He slowly slips it up until his hand rests just below the leather collar.

“You can fight it if it makes you feel better… but you can’t hide from me. I see everything.I see you.”

“And what is it youthinkyou see?”

His fingers flex against my throat. One by one, drumming gently in time with my racing pulse. He grips my hip roughly, the chain of the leash cool against my exposed skin. Every cell in my body feels alive, tingling and pulling me back into him. I can’t control it. I can’t stop it—like a live wire, the sparks flying could burn these woods to ash. Then, as quick as he pulled me in, he releases me, letting the chain unwrap from his hand as he steps back.

“Walk,” he growls, ignoring my question. His voice is somehow deeper and grittier than before.

Because I don’t trust myself not to do everything I swore I wouldn’t, I obey, my steps slow and steady as I try to reinforce the walls around myself. He doesn’t just invade my space. It feels as if his very essence leeches itself into my veins, scrambling my mind, and making me lose all the sense in my body.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe he doessee me. But that is just disturbing and hella creepy. He’s my stalker and my kidnapper. He literally drugged me, stole me away from the only home I’veever felt safe in, and is dragging me to God knows where—to do God knows what. I need to keep my head about me. I can’t allow myself to get caught up in whatever demented things my body craves. I’ve done research. It’s a trauma response that happens sometimes when someone has been through the shit I have. I can’t trust anything I feel, and I definitely can’t let my body make the decisions.

Just play nice, keep your mouth shut, and figure out a way out of this.

When we get back to the truck, he leans around me, opening the back door. He steps up behind me but doesn’t press into me as he unhooks the leash from the collar. “Climb in,” he says roughly, slipping the chain into the pocket on the door. His truck is big, and with the air bed filling the space, it’s about the size of a twin bed back here. At the very least, I can get some sleep and hopefully have a better handle on myself tomorrow.

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