Page 144 of Ecstasy
“Eli.” The word is muffled beneath his hand, and I hate that his name is shaky on my lips, but I hate that I let him in even more. I shouldn’t have done this. He has the power to ruin me and we both know it.
He drops his hand from my mouth.
“Get off of me,” I snarl at him.
He laughs, grips my arm tighter, but then, throwing me off again, he steps away, toward the door.
I back up, still against the counter but moving down, toward the fridge. Toward my room.
He doesn’t move.
He’s standing between me and the door and unless I want to jump out the window, he knows he has me trapped.
“What are you talking about? Going a little far?” If I run, if I try to attack him, he’s just going to feed on my fear. Maybe I can talk my way out of this.
He smiles at me, that charming smile I’ve watched him flash dozens of times, never knowing he was actually a fucking monster.
“I admire your effort, baby girl, but I know you don’t really want him. And now you let him stay the week with you? Let him try to sober you up?” There’s real anger in those questions. It makes me feel physically sick. I didn’t think he actually cared. I thought this was all a game. A game for a boy with strange tastes. But he’s mad?
“I don’t know what—”
“I think you should stop playing games now,Zara.”
But now it’s my turn to be angry. The rage flushes white hot through me, and that rush of irritation that I’ve felt all week comes back in full force. I push off the counter, turn fully to face him. His eyes light up with amusement because he wants this fight.
“You don’t get to do this,” I tell him, pointing his way. “You fucked this all up!”
He steps forward, but I don’t falter, even as he cocks his head, his expression still full of amusement as he listens to me.
“You don’t get to come back here after you fucking fucked me over. And besides, I’m fucking done with you. I am so done with you.”
“You wanted me.” His tone is plain, his words simple. “You still do.”
I close my eyes tight, trying to think. To breathe. Dammit, I really want some more orange juice. Or, more than that, I want to chug down one of these damn bottles beside me.
“Come on, baby girl, this was the plan all along.” His voice is soothing and when I open my eyes, he’s a foot from me.
I try to swallow down my rage, my confusion. My fear. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He swipes his hand over the counter, sending all the bottles of alcohol I have lined up crashing to the floor, glass bursting into pieces. But he doesn’t stop there. The glass crunches under his shoes as he steps toward me, yanking me by the collar of my shirt, my bare feet on the broken glass, sharp pain stinging under the arch of one foot. I whimper but he doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t let go and he doesn’t look down.
“I gave you space,” he breathes down close to me. “I let you breathe. I let you...live. I didn’t know all this time you wanted me to take it away from you.”
I grab his hand, digging my nails into his skin. But he suddenly sweeps his leg behind mine, knocking me off my feet. I fall against the glass, shards digging into my back. My lip trembles, tears springing to my eyes as he kneels down, too, still fisting my shirt.
“I didn’t know you wanted me to suffocate you, Zara. I didn’t know you wanted me to kill you. Why didn’t you just fucking ask?”
He leans down close, and my head is inches from the glass that’s currently slicing into my back, only his grip on my tank top holding me up, and my own core muscles, straining.
“Now I know, Zara.” He runs his tongue over my mouth. “Now I know, and I won’t ever fucking forget it. You want to be treated like a stupid bitch without a brain?” He yanks me up until my forehead is pressed against his. “I can do that for you.” He kisses me but I clamp my lips closed.
Fuck him.
“The thing about Alex, baby? He shows his crazy. But me? I like to hide mine. I like the fear in your eyes right now because you once thought I was something better. You once thought I was the good one.” He laughs, pulling on my lip with his teeth. “With the three of us? There’s no such thing.” He lowers me down onto the glass, pinning me down with his hand on my chest. “You should’ve known better, Za.”
The glass digs into my scalp, my back, my thighs. The pain is burning, stinging, sharp. “Let me up.” My voice is little more than a whimper.
Eli laughs, pressing me further into the ground. “I don’t think so, baby girl. Not yet. Not until you remember what it was like.”
