Page 72 of Deliverance

Me: We can do whatever you want! Please.

Me: I need your help, please. Asher…

I attempt to send one more, but it fails. What the fuck? I hit call when a strange sound comes through instead of ringing. Blocked. Are you fucking kidding me? He blocked me? This is not happening.

My fingers fly across the keyboard, sending a message to Jeremy.

Me: Want to hook up tonight?

It takes ten minutes for him to respond, and when he does, my stomach flips.

Jeremy: This is Jeremy’s mother. He is currently in the hospital. He will not be ‘hooking up’ with anyone, Miss Brenton.

Cool. Just pissed off an Elder wife. As if this night couldn’t get any worse. Jeremy is in the hospital? What happened to him? I know I won’t get answers from his mom, so I set my phone down before hearing it buzz to life. I practically jump for it, praying it’s Asher. Unfortunately, it’s not.

Thomas: I’m here, sweet girl

Swallowing roughly, I look down at the red satin dress I put on. I got ready as a backup plan, but it looks like that is my only plan now. Fuck. Slipping my phone and key card into my silver clutch, I step out of my room and into the hallway. There, just a few feet away, is Thomas. He is smiling at me with his hands in his pockets of his slacks while his eyes devour every inch of flesh I have on display. Which I’ll admit is not much. I tried to select my most conservative dress without being too obvious.

He holds out his hands for me to take as he pulls me in and kisses my cheek. His rough stubble scratches against me before pulling away.

“You look divine.”

“Thank you,” I say with a dip of my head.

I keep my eyes on the ground, a move he notices as he chuckles and lifts my chin up until I meet his gaze.

“Nervous, sweet girl?”

Something like that.

He smirks, like he finds me adorable. He should. He’s the one who taught me how to tie my fucking shoes. Tucking my hand into the crook of his elbow, he walks us down the hallway and to the elevator. With his head held high, he struts through campus like he’s performing a victory lap after winning the ultimate prize. Granted, it’s already much better treatment than what I receive with Asher, but the slimy feeling that’s left in wake of his touch doesn’t make it feel that way.

We walk to his Lincoln town car, his driver already in the front as we slip into the back seat.

“Where to, sir?” his driver asks.

“16ninteythree will be good,” Thomas says as he shuts the door.

The car takes off almost immediately, and I don’t even have time to put on my seatbelt before Thomas is curling his arm around my shoulders. I try to pull away subtly, but he pulls me right back to him.

“Why are you being shy, Bridgette? It’s just me.” He smiles like he’s enjoying my discomfort.

“This is all just a little strange for me,” I say, softening it with a smile.

“Why is that?” he asks as he lifts his other hand, twirling a piece of my hair around his finger, like I’m his own personal toy to play with at any given moment.

“Well, I’ve known you my whole life. Isn’t it a little odd for you?” I question.

He smiles, his finger releasing my hair as he trails his fingers down my throat, dancing over my chest just above my cleavage, leaving that same grimy feeling in his wake.

“Not at all. I’ve admired you for quite some time.”

“How long?” I ask with hesitancy.

A salacious grin spreads across his face.

“Longer than you’d ever know,” he says before cupping my neck and hauling me towards him.

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