Page 63 of The Rebel of Raleigh High
“You would have happily climbed into my bed an hour ago, you pathetic piece of trash. You would have parted your legs for me just like that.” He snaps his fingers. “You don’t understand. We’re given everything we want. The world bows down and lays itself at our feet. It’sboringbeing given so much, Silver. Sometimes, to know the depths of your own true power, you’ve got totake…” He unzips his fly, pushing his boxers and his pants down in one go, and then he stands there, as if he’s expecting me to swoon at the glory of his body.
I’ve seen a penis before. He’s acting like he’s unveiling the eighth wonder of the world, though. I look down at him, terrified to the marrow of my bones, my panic an insidious thing, working its way into each and every cell of my body…but, somehow, I find the courage to laugh again. At him. At the hard, straining appendage hanging there between his legs, looking like some comical design flaw. “God, Jake. Now I get it. If that’s what you’re working with, then it makes sense that you’d need two guys to pin a girl down.”
Jake’s face turns a frightening shade of purple. He’s shaking as he sinks to his knees, kicking Cillian out of the way. I try to twist out from underneath Sam one more time, frantic, the opportunity to escape flashing before my eyes, but Jake’s too fast. He moves quickly, forcing me back onto the tile, the weight of his body bearing down on me. “You’re going to regret that,” he snarls. “You’re gonna wish I’d cut out your tongue with that razor blade, so you couldn’t have said something so fucking stupid.”
I’m already regretting it. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I fucked up. He’s going to kill me. He’s going to fucking kill me. I whimper, struggling, hating myself for cracking, for letting any sign of fear through, but none of it matters. Jake roughly shoves his way between my legs, baring his teeth in a savage rictus of hate as he drives his hips forward, his erection butting up against the inside of my thigh. “Fuckingcunt!” he seethes. “Fucking dirty, disgustingcunt!”
A sharp, breathtaking moment occurs, suspended in time, and Jake stills on top of me. His pupils are blown, dilated wide enough to have swallowed his irises. He’s inside me.
He’s…
God…
I bite the inside of my cheek, reviling the new stab of pain between my legs. The signal that I’ve lost something I will never get back. “Oh, Silver. Silver, Silver, Silver. This tight little pussy of yours has just made all the hassle and trouble you’ve caused worth it. Fuck me, but you’re tight. Does it feel good? Am I making you feel good?”
Hot, burning tears streak from my eyes, but I don't make a sound. I just look up at him, my face blank again, though this time from shock.
I can’t believe…
This isn’t…
It can’t be…
Jake begins to undulate on top of me. I can feel him pulling out of me and driving back up and inside, a fresh wave of pain coursing through me with every roll of his hips. My stomach is rioting, threatening to eject its contents, and I do nothing to hold it back.
“Don’t look at me like that, Parisi,” Jake snaps. “I’m doing you a fucking favor.”
In my head, I laugh. I laugh that he could ever think that, because he does. He really believes this lie. On the outside, I remain closed off, numb, my eyes boring into him as he thrashes, quickening his pace on top of me.
“Look away,” he commands.
I don’t.
I won’t.
If he plans on continuing this violation of my body and my soul, then he’s going to have to bear the weight of the judgment in my eyes as he does it. Jacob Weaving, captain of the Raleigh Roughnecks, one of Raleigh’s most respected, influential students, grunts, gouging his fingers into my breasts as he fucks me against my will. Sam makes a guttural sound at the back of his throat, his eyes dancing with amusement as he watches Jake writhe on top of me. I pay him no attention, though. I only have eyes for Jake.
Frustrated, furious, his hand swings down to connect with my cheek, and I taste blood. “I said look away!” he yells.
Again, I don’t.
Time stretches and slows, taunting me as each second drags by. Jake bites the top of my shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. He bruises me, gouges, digs, twists, pinches. He fucks me harder and harder, and I see the mad lust in his eyes changing into something else. Something that resembles desperation. I don’t know how long he continues for. I wrestle for each breath. I struggle and pull. I do everything in my power to get away—which is to say I can do nothing. And every time he pushes himself inside me, grunting and sweating, I make sure I’m glaring at him with, cold, dead eyes.
Eventually, he snaps. Dropping down, shoving his face into mine, he roars into my face. “I SAID FUCKING LOOK AWAY!!”
I…
can’t…
fucking…
breathe…
Jacob slams his fist into my side, and my ribs scream, agony ripping through my torso, tearing through every last nerve ending. I have no choice in the matter now. My body convulses as I try and roll onto my side, vomit rising up in my throat, but Sam’s still holding me in place. Jake reels back, though, and I see what I felt between my legs—his sad, flaccid dick, hanging pathetically now, stuck to the inside of his thigh, covered in blood.
Now, he reacts with shame.
Now, because his friends have seen that he couldn’t fucking finish.
