Page 82 of Deliria

Normally I’d be relieved to see him. But the look on his face right now…

He tilts his head, glancing back to the second person, the other unknown in the room.

“Playing dumb today, I see.” He remarks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I hiss. Why the fuck would he do this? What the fuck is he talking about?

He’s clearly involved in whatever this is because he hasn’t untied me, he hasn’t rushed to comfort me and tell me thateverything is okay. That he’s here to get me out of whatever this is.

He lets out a laugh that is far too close to a taunt.

“Alex, please, please, I haven’t done anything…” I don’t know if that’s true. I don’t know what awful transgression I’m meant to have committed but whatever it is, it wasn’t me. Not present me, anyway. I’m innocent.

“Dirty little whore.” Alex says, slapping my face hard enough to leave a lingering sting behind. “You enjoyed fucking my brother so much, I figured you’d want another go with my father too…”

No.

What the fuck is he talking about?

Rafe? IfuckedRafe?

No way I would have done that. No way… but my gut tells me it’s true. That I wanted him. That on some level, some part of me sought him out.

An image flashes in my head of him, of us. We’re kissing, fucking, practically devouring each other in our need. And worse, I can feel my body reacting, feel that desire even now, even though that moment has long since passed.

Was I a whore? Is that who I was yesterday?

But I can’t be held accountable, not really. I was on meds, am on meds. I don’t have full capacity, I don’t…

My reasoning dies the minutethatman comes to a stop right by the end of the bed.

He stares down, not at my face, not looking at me as a person, just gawping at what’s between my legs.

“Her cunt’s already salivating at the prospect.” Vincent says, folding his arms.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch me.” I snarl.

Vincent looks up, his lips pulled is the most depraved grin. “Don’t you threaten me, you little bitch.” He says. “Besides,you’ve ridden my cock enough times for you to be well and truly moulded by it.”

No.

That’s a lie.

A disgusting, nasty lie.

I turn my head, searching for Alex, stupidly, desperately believing that this might all be some awful hallucination, some twisted imagination of my warped mind.

I stupidly convince myself that he’s going to reach over, take my hand in his and gently soothe me.

When I find him with my gaze, my stomach drops. He’s undoing the buttons on his shirt sleeves, rolling them up like he’s about to do something that would cause a mess, and he doesn’t want to dirty himself any more than he has to.

“Alex…” I plead with everything I have, but he just stares back at me, completely devoid of emotion.

Hands, fingers, and nails press into my thighs. I might be held down, tied in place, but that doesn’t stop Vincent from manoeuvring me more to his liking.

“Stop it!” I scream, lashing out once more. “Stop. Get off me. Get off…”

Alex’s hand yanks me back, wrenching my face to the side. I’m forced to look at him while Vincent’s weight pushes me further into the bed.

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