Page 12 of Tempt Me

“Maybe Nan needs a lesson in training his bitch,” he said, and his face turned to stone, a creepy smile breaking his stupor like a dam.

I didn’t have time to speak. Any rebuking responses or insults stuck to my tongue when he ripped my skirt. The fabric made a horrible sound as it hung haphazardly over my hip. I couldn’t move even to grab it. He had my hands pinned on my chest and stomach with his weight.

My heartbeat quickened. The partygoers weren’t paying attention at all. They just drank, smoked, and laughed like everything was right in the world. Hot tears slipped down my cheeks. Lance laughed, and my embarrassment burned in my gut as the shameful weeping sped up.

“Please,” I tried, adjusting my tone and showing submission to this dickhead. I was used to it. Giving up my fight to simply survive.

“Oh, you do understand manners?” He chuckled and used one of his hands to trace the line of my panties on my hip.

The pathetic fabric of my useless outfit hung on by a few threads. My body against this damn counter was acting as the cloth’s only anchor.

“Show me then bitch. Show me how you beg.”

He pulled away from me, my body dropping on the hard, unforgiving ground at his feet.

The relief on my spine was short-lived because the asshole grabbed my face in his hand, and I couldn’t prevent it even if I wanted to try.

“Nan takes these pouty lips for granted, baby. But don’t worry, I promise I’ll put them to good use.”

My stomach dropped. His pathetic dick bulged in his pants, and he stuck my hand on the nasty thing.

“Suck me off, and I won’t tell your man what a fucking cunt you were to me.” He unzipped his pants and let the thing he called a dick flop out.

I gagged audibly, looking at it, and Lance struck me across the face. The impact was enough to send me flying to the ground. My head smashed into the countertop, and now I was face-first with the gray marble floor.

Blinking my eyes, all I saw was fuzzy surroundings. A vision of a weird statue shape was dancing before me. The sounds around me were like a carnival ride. Loud laughter warped into a slowed haze, like clowns and evil people in movies. God, I couldn’t see shit—just a ray of light.

My body felt weird, numb, and cold. I had an awareness of being tugged, and the tilt-a-whirl sensation that was my vision continued the spinning ride.

Ugh…the light was so damn bright that I needed someone to turn it off so I didn’t hurl. A reprieve in beautiful darkness would be fantastic because luminosity was overrated. Besides, there were more places to hide in the dark. The brightness only made it easy for everyone to see every part of you.

My head felt warm, and those jerking motions continued as my body bounced one way and then another. Suddenly, a huge shadow engulfed the glaring glow, and my eyes could finallyfocus. The sounds I heard before had gone…quiet. There was no laughter or jarring base of music…it was just silent.

Then a crescendo of screams erupted, the floor vibrating with the stomping of the party idiots. They were running…but from what?

I tried to focus on the shadow. I wanted to move or run with the others, but my body was a useless meat sack. I must have hit my head hard enough to cause brain damage. I couldn’t comprehend my reality, and that stupid marbled pattern kept spinning. Spinning and spinning until the shadow completely took over me.

When I awoke, a male voice was speaking, but not to me.

“What the fuck do I do, Tal? I got two drunk students in my apartment! One of them is passed out in my bedroom, and the other is bleeding in my living room.”

I blinked. My body was nothing but numb now. My head throbbed like a bitch, and my whole body felt like I got steamrolled by a dump truck.

“Don’t even fucking imply that. No. Nothing happened. It was some fucking thrill seeker party. I wasn’t even here.”

I tried opening my eyes, but they felt crusted shut with glue. I managed to pull them open and finally saw a clear-ish version of my surroundings.

I was lying on a couch, a white leather couch.

Oof, my head hurt.

As I reached up, something was haphazardly wrapped around my head. I put my hands on the object. It was a cloth, and underneath was an ice pack. Slowly moving my eyes, I saw a coffee table beside me with littered beer bottles and paper plates around the area.

“I got ice. I’m not a fucking doctor, Sis. Why else would I be calling your ass to grovel for help?”

I followed the low timbre. The tone was pleasant, and it sounded less and less like I was underwater with each passing second.

It was a man. He was standing in the kitchen, his back turned to me. A menacing black skull tattoo was visible even from where I was positioned. It covered his entire back.

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