Page 77 of Lost to the Woods

Shit, I really did that.

I shake my head, tears mixing with the damp on my cheeks. “Ugh, I didn’t know what I wanted then! But I do now.”

His silence is louder than anything I’ve ever heard.

It’s crushing.

It wraps around my ribs like barbed wire. I’d rather he screamed. Raged.Did something.

Instead, he just sits there and stares like I’m a caged animal at the zoo.

And then, after what feels like forever, he moves.

Slowly, so fucking deliberately, he reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a phone.Myphone.

My stomach drops as a fresh wave of horror settles into my bones.

“You didn’t know what you wanted?” he repeats, tilting his head. “That’s funny, babydoll, because you sure seemed to know what you wanted when you were sexting me every fucking night.”

My entire body locks up. Like if I don’t move, this won’t be real. But he’s so full of resentment I can taste his bitterness on my tongue.

He swipes.

And scrolls.

And scrolls.

Stopping briefly every now and then—which I know is when a naughty picture pops up.

And then, he reads.

My words. My late-night messages. My own voice reflected back at me in every filthy, desperate message I sent him.

“I want you so bad, Daddy.”

“You make me so wet.”

“God, I wish you were here… Inside me…”

“I can’t stop touching myself thinking about you.”

“Stop!” I scream. My voice is broken glass. “Stop it!”

But he doesn’t stop.

He just grins beneath his mask. I feel it. Smug. Brutal. Vindicated.

“But you didn’t know what you wanted, huh?” he taunts. “So which is it, little bunny? Are you a liar?” His voice sharpens and he leans in with his forearms on his knees. “Or just a fucking slut?”

My knees give. I drop, sobbing now, ugly and loud and helpless. My body shakes and I hate it. I hate how small I feel in front of him. How exposed. Howseen, in the worst kind of way.

He exhales like I’m an inconvenience. Like this isn’t fun anymore.

“Doesn’t matter either way,” he says, pocketing the phone. “Because you don’t get to decide what you want anymore. Never even considered I’d take what you owe, did you?”

My chest heaves. I can’t breathe right. “I hate you,” I slip up.

“I know,” he responds. No heat in it. No pity either. “And the feeling is mutual, baby.”

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