the passenger seat, my body hitting the dash hard.
“Owww.”
I was yanked back on to the seat, and a knee pressed between my legs until I had no choice but to spread them. Landry was above me, a fierce look on his face.
“Stop saying his name,” he spit at me.
“Whose name?” I asked, confused. Something warm and wet slid down the front of my face, dripping into my eye. I reached up and looked at my hand in confusion when it came back with red stuff all over it.
That was mean of Landry to put ketchup on my head.
He suddenly pressed a punishing kiss on my lips, and it hurt. But my skin was on fire. Everything on my body needed to be touched, or soothed, or fucked.
I didn’t even know what I wanted.
“I’m going to fuck him out of your head, so you’ll never mention his name again,” Landry snarled, still talking for some reason about some mysterious person.
I felt him fumbling with the top of my jeans, and then the button was popped open.
What was Landry doing? Did I want him to do it? Landry was so handsome.
“That’s right sweetheart. I’m so handsome. And you’re so fucking beautiful. And you’re mine. You’re going to be mine.”
Sweetheart. There was that word again.
Jackson.
Landry pulled my pants down, and I tried to remember why this was a bad idea and how I got here, but nothing seemed clear. It was like my brain had been stuffed with cotton.
And I was tired, so fucking tired.
I moaned in distress as he began to pull on my thong and then softly stroked a part of me that no one had ever touched besides Jackson.
Jackson.
What was happening?
I began to struggle underneath Landry, trying to tell him that he needed to stop, that I didn’t want this, even though my body was completely arguing otherwise. Because every stroke of his hand felt so fucking good.
But that sensation in my head, the one that told me that something was wrong…it just kept growing, and even though everything felt amazing, I knew it wasn’t supposed to be Landry who was doing it.
“Please,” I cried softly. It felt like I was wading through butter. Was my body actually struggling, or was I just imagining it?
“I’ll make you feel so good,” Landry promised, sounding out of breath.
I started to go numb, like I was drifting above my body and watching as it happened to me.
The door behind Landry was suddenly ripped open, and Landry was torn off my body. I laid there, unable to move, but I could hear the sounds of fists hitting flesh and harsh yells.
It seemed to last forever.
And then a concerned, familiar face appeared above me, and a tear trailed down my cheek because I couldn’t move anymore, I couldn’t even move my lips to speak.
“It’s okay, LyLy. I’m here. I’ll never let anything happen to you again.”
He gently pulled my underwear and pants back up my legs, and then his arms wrapped around me and pulled me off the car bench, and I was hoisted into his arms.
I could hear his familiar heartbeat as I leaned into his chest, his scent washing over me and trying to stir a thousand memories.
His heartbeat sounded like heartbreak. But I couldn’t even move my head to get away from it.
What was Caiden doing here?
I was gone into the numbness before I could process another thought.
15
I leaned over and threw up, faintly aware of soft hands holding my hair back and whispering sweet nothings as I wretched over and over again into what looked like a pink bin.
I peeked open my eyes, a difficult venture since my eyes felt like they had been glued together by concrete, and a spark of pain crashed into me. I let out a silent scream, or at least I think it was silent, since I didn’t hear the sound of glass breaking around me from the shrill sound.
I tried to breathe through my nose as nausea continued to hit me hard.
What had happened to me?
The night’s events filtered slowly through my brain. We were at a club for Lane’s birthday. Lane was shit-faced. Landry had shown up. We had taken shots.
What had happened after that? I remembered chugging water at some point. Had I drunk so much that I blacked out? That wasn’t really like me.
There were bits and pieces slowly appearing in my memory. But it was like what I was seeing had happened to someone else.
And why did my skin feel like