Between Now and Heartbreak - Dylan Allen Page 0,86
loose.
And the despair has festered and become even more potent. And right now, after the rollercoaster I just climbed off, I’m covered in it. I can’t ignore it.
I must indulge it so that I can put that lid back on.
But, I don’t cry. Not this time. Tears mean streaked makeup and redness that tells tales I’d rather nobody ever know. Tales they can twist and fashion into weapons to use against you.
Instead, I gather a wad of paper towels and shove them in my mouth.
And then, I scream.
My makeshift gag muffles the sound, but it’s ferocity isn’t dampened one bit. I hold it there and scream into it until I’m exhausted and my throat is raw.
I tug your strings. When you marry Duke, he’ll take over. Learn that and you’ll be happy.
A few years ago, those words would have rearranged my entire universe. But now, they just fill me with quiet purpose.
I let that man put a collar on me with his job, his house, his threats…and thanked him for the indulgence.
He wants to bring me to heel?
Fuck him.
I’m done.
The money I’ve saved from my job at Wolfe isn’t much but I can make more. And Carter will help me. With no strings or expectation. Because I know that’s how he loves me.
And then I’ll be free of these men and their dominion over my life.
I’ll never give another so much.
Not even the one who says he loves me.
If I can get through tonight, then we’ll be in the clear.
I’m done with this town and its tiny horizon and poisonous air.
I tingle at the surge of excitement as I consider the possibility of leaving Winsome. There’s nothing keeping me here now.
I pick up my phone and text Duke.
35
FUCK THIS OLD HOUSE
BETH
“You sound good singing in the shower.” Duke’s voice, unexpected and unwelcome, startles a scream from my throat that his big hand muffles before it can find wings that carry it out the open door of my bedroom.
With one of his massive arms wrapped around my torso, he pulls me back into his solid wall of a body and presses the sharp edges of his teeth together around my ear lobe hard enough to hurt. Just for a second before he lets go and laves it with his tongue. He presses the side of his face into my hair and takes a deep breath.
I wriggle against him, fighting my panic at how tightly clamped his hand is over my mouth. I have to remind myself that I breathe through my nose. He’s not trying to hurt me.
But when he doesn’t say anything and his arm tightens around my waist, I try to turn my head, frantic to make eye contact with him.
“You feel so good, smell so good,” he groans into my hair and I feel his arousal pressed into the rise of my ass and I start to struggle in earnest. I use my fists to pummel his forearms, I get the impression the strikes hurt my hand more than they hurt him.
My entire body hums like one of those old fashioned wind up timers right before it goes off. All I can think, the only thing I’ve been able to think for a long time, is how wrong Duke feels.
And not just physically, my soul has rejected him. It balks at his nearness.
He laughs, his breath washing over me makes me shudder.
“Oh Clover, why do you have to be like that? I’m always so nice to you.”
I shriek against his hand and try to bite the fleshy palm that’s pressed against my lips. My teeth barely graze him, but it’s enough for me to taste the salty skin of the hands I swore I’d never let touch me again.
“Mmmm,” he breathes, his hot breath pollutes the skin of my neck and face with the perpetually sweet mint gum flavored scent that I’ve come to loathe.
“If I move my hand, you gonna kiss me and be nice?” He asks in a deceptively calm, cajoling voice.
I’m desperate now and I see he’s wearing a pair of converse. So, I raise my knee to get some momentum and bring my heel down on his instep.
Hard.
I’m not sure if it’s pain or annoyance that drives his grunt and sharp release of his hold on me, and I don’t spare a second trying to figure it out. I scramble away from him. Grabbing my towel tightly around me and whirling angrily to face him.