Page 173 of Did They Break You

“No,” I say again.

“What about Chase?” he asks, his words clipped.

I feel queasy, thinking about him.

Cortland tilts my head up with his fingers under my chin, so I’m forced to look at him. “Did he hurt you?”

I just stare at him.

“Yeah,” he says, huffing a laugh. “Maybe it was only one of us who hurt you?—”

“You did,” I cut him off, those words clawing their way to the surface. “Youalldid?—”

“It could’ve been worse.” The way he says it, it’s like a promise. “But I wouldn’t let him.” His nose is against mine, his breath on my mouth. “But I’m the bad guy? You didn’t want me, Remi? That night,you didn’t fucking want me?”

I shake my head, but his fingers splay along my jaw, keeping me still.

“Answer me, Rems.”

“No,” I start to say. “I?—”

“Stop lying, baby. I don’t like that.”

Another wave of exhaustion sweeps over me. “Cortland, I?—”

“You wantedsomeone elseto take what I took?”Those words are so angry.

“Why do you care?” I say back. “Why does that part matter to?—”

“Because you’re mine, Remi. After everything we went through together,” he drags his piercing over my lips, squeezing my breast, “I thought you’d understand that by now.”

I can’t speak.

He’s insane.

I know that, but even still, as much as I’ve tried to fight it, the fact that we share some fucked up bond, there’s a part of me that knows he’s right. I hated being “his”, in any way, but it was like fighting against the tide.

I drowned in knowing it was true.

That he was my firstlots of things.

One of those being a crime. One of those being something that ruined my entire life.

But here I am, willingly at a desolate campsite with him, letting him touch me and hurt me and…

A sob breaks free from my mouth. He takes the opportunity to kiss me, his mouth claiming mine, his tongue colliding with my own.

I gasp against him as he pushes up on my breast, his lip ring rubbing my bottom lip.

His kiss is harsh, his teeth scrape against mine as he pushes his entire weight against me, the door of the truck digging into my back. “Cry for me,” he whispers, suddenly pulling back, just enough to let me breathe.

I feel dizzy with his whiplash and I’m panting, my back arching.

“Just like that night,fucking cry for me.”

Hot, fat tears roll down my cheek as I do just that, and I want to bury my head in his chest and hide.

But I don’t want to be that girl anymore. The one I was before. The one who’s always crying. Always hiding. I don’t want to be his victim all of the time.

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