Page 144 of Fixation
24
HARPER
Anderson killed a man.
He killed someone I know, and I don’t actually care. I should. I pretended that I did.
I screamed and shouted, true. It was the logical thing to do.
It was the shadow of the old me acting out.
That woman, the wise, sensible me, would think it’s fucking insane.
That Anderson is fucking insane.
Deep down, I don’t care. Not one bit.
He killed him and though it jarred me when I first heard of it, now I’m relieved.
I’m not sure if that terrifies me or just confirms what I’ve become.His.
He protected me.He’s helping me like I asked him to.
He made me want him.
He’s the worst and the best.
With him, I’m being stripped of my responsibilities. He saves me time and again.
I’ve fallen for Anderson.
Doesn’t mean I’m any less terrified of him.
My chin quivers as I fight to keep my face still. I’m exposed, my clothes shredded by his hands and scissors.
I’m restrained, captured.
His.
I’m so wet for it.
“What are you doing?”
At my question, he pauses. A God kneeling between my thighs.
“You’re right.” Anderson turns to examine the syringe that’s sitting on top of the cart. “This, this is wrong.”
“Uh—really?”
“Yes.” He nods. “This position. It’s wrong.”
“Oh.”
The tilt of his head is ominous.
“This isn’t the right position to take your virgin ass.” His eyes scan my face like he’s choosing which part to break first. My stomach flips. Horror and lust crash into each other. “I won’t be able to keep your ankle elevated and punish you at the same time this way.”
Two short sentences. That’s all it takes to knock the air out of me.
