Page 101 of Broken by my Bully
Instead, there’s just an aching emptiness inside me. Like he ripped something vital out of me and took it with him when he fled.
I’m still shaking, still sprawled in the dirt like some feral thing, and I can taste blood in my mouth from where I bit him. That’s nothing compared to the shameful heat still pulsing between my legs.
I almost came. From Kai choking me. From his fingers inside me while he cut off my air.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I press my face into the grass and try not to think about how his voice sounded when he called me baby.
How his cock felt pressed against me.
How some sick part of me wanted him to finish what he started…even if it killed me.
Haven
Pulling into the small, tree-shaded alcove on the edge of Earl Avenue feels like coming home.
Every night for the past few weeks I’ve driven up here and parked in the same tread marks I left the day before. And every night, I’m filled with the same sense of calm. An ethereal reassurance, source unknown.
Everything’s going to be okay.
But this time, there’s a weirdness tainting my serenity. Something out of place, just off-kilter. Like how you can feel a shirt is inside out the moment you pull it over your head.
It’s barely gone noon. Maybe that’s why.
This is the earliest I’ve ever dared to come here. I probably shouldn’t have risked it, but this is the only comfort I have left. Plus, this route is ingrained in muscle memory by now. It would have taken more effort to figure out some other place to go than come straight here.
And there’s the view, of course.
Nothing quite perks me up like staring out over Agony Hollowand pretending I’m only visiting. That I live somewhere safe, and warm, and peaceful.
That beach house me and Kai dreamed about.
Ourhouse.
Ourrules.
Just…ours.
The sedan groans as I jerk up the emergency brake, then there’s just thetick-tick-tickof cooling metal under the hood.
I swallow, grimace.
My throat hurts.
As do my shoulders, where the rough tree trunk scraped my skin.
I’m pretty sure I still have bits of bark and grass in my hair.
I refuse to even think about what’s happeningdown there.
It took me thirty minutes to get here after I fled Kai’s crime scene, and I’m still tingling.
A part of me wishes I was brave enough to reach between my legs and end my suffering. But a different part argues it’s exactly what Kai wants. That, then, he would win this game.
But he hasn’t won yet.
I sent him fleeing, like a little boy running home to his mama.
