Page 102 of Caged
I slip out of Monroe’s car, glancing over my shoulder to see she’s waiting to make sure I get inside without issue. My head spins with unasked questions, but I suppose I’ll have to wait until tomorrow. This is far from the reunion I had imagined, and the knowledge that Monroe doesn’t plan to come back to Dornell makes my stomach knot with heartbreak. Whatever Kieren did to her must have been much worse than she shared to make her want to shed her prior self like a bodysuit that doesn’t fit anymore. Anger doesn’t begin to describe my mix of emotions.
He took everything from her. Why is it that the victims are always the ones who lose and are forced to restart? It’s not fair. I want to make him pay for what he did to my best friend. Kieren,Barrett, Harrison and especially Jace. I hope Monroe’s plan involves suffering of the worst kind, because if it doesn’t, those four are dead men walking.
46
GABI
Present Day
Early October, Senior Year,
Dornell University
“Wake up Gabriella,” a gentle voice whispers. A lucid dream. I scrunch my face, willing the noise away.
“Wake up,” the voice nudges softly. Warm breath tickles my ear, and I release a clipped whimper. My eyes flutter as my brain fights with itself. Stay asleep, it’s just a dream. Open your eyes, this is real.
A strange pressure pricks my neck. I breathe in an extended inhale, and…
“What the fuck?” I try to scream, except my words are trapped by the hand Jace rams against my mouth.
“If you try to fight me, I’ll slit your throat,” he growls.
I whine as the sharp edge of the knife nips at the fragile skin of my neck.
“Hmm, how does it feel, Gabriella?” His scratchy voice reminds me of our freshman year, tangled together under thesheets, talking and fucking until the sun came up. What a stark contrast to this morning. My freshman self could never have imagined there would be a day when I’d find Jace in my bed, holding a knife to my throat, hating me more than he’s ever hated anyone in his life. Never could I have imagined the elite fraternity he was so eager to pledge, the revered Sigma, would corrupt him to the point of becoming unrecognizable.
“You were so bold last night when you sliced my fucking arm,” Jace seethes. “It’s only right if I return the favor.”
I squirm, my pointless pleas muffled under his palm.
“But I think I’ll start with your body first,” he says, repositioning himself until his chest is flush with my lower abdomen and his face eye-level with my breasts. I don’t dare move, convinced he’s going to accidentally slice my artery. “You touched me last night, Gabriella, and you said things to me. Things you shouldn’t have said.”
I lie helplessly as I take in his words, my vulnerability on full display in my thin cotton thong and equally thin white T-shirt.
“You know what happens if you scream, right?”
I nod, and when Jace removes his hand from my mouth, I remain compliant.
Fingertips graze the side of my ribcage as he lifts the hem of my T-shirt with his free hand, exposing my bare breast. My breath hitches as he begins to knead, gently squeezing the tender flesh.
“Do you remember when you used to beg me to do this, Gabriella? Do you remember telling me how badly your tits would throb when you were aroused? Or how I would massage your aching, full tits like this while you straddled my lap and fucked me?”
I don’t answer him, but the whimper I’m unable to contain gives me away.
“Maybe you remember how I would suck your sensitive nipples, like this,” he rasps, encasing the painfully hardened peak with his warm mouth. I try not to react. I try not to writhe under him, not only because he’s holding a blade to my throat, but because I’ll be damned if I let this man have any power over me. But, fuck…
His hot, wet tongue swirls around my nipple, sucking and licking, leaving a trail of cooling saliva with each pass. I don’t realize my death grip on the sheets until he starts nibbling at the swollen bud with his teeth.
“Jace,” I plead. But he doesn’t stop. Instead, he sucks my nipple with the fervor of a newborn baby, remembering exactly how my body responds to this type of stimulation. I can feel my flush bloom, and I start to short-circuit. Within the span of a few hours, we’ve had more physical contact than we’ve had over the last two years. My brain is frantically trying to quell my body’s natural response, but it’s losing control by the second.
Popping my nipple free, Jace cups his palm over my breast, teasing the now chaffed, delicate skin. I tense my muscles in a fruitless act to remain unresponsive, even though I can feel them quiver, dangerously close to coming undone.
“Do you remember any of that, Gabriella?” he smirks.
Pure evil. This man is pure fucking evil. “No,” I croak.
“No? Then why are your panties wet?”
