I remember thinking my life was going to end as I knew it because I couldn’t stop what I had been about to do.
I. Couldn’t. Stop.
Like an addict who swears they won’t do it anymore, but the addiction controls their actions even while their mind is screaming at them not to do it, that had been me that day.
I was only fifteen, abusing my learner’s permit, and my mind had been screaming at me to just keep on motherfucking driving. It was telling me to look away and to just. Keep. On. Driving.
But I hadn’t.
I hadn’t because I couldn’t. After over a year of pure torment, I couldn’t stay away from Mystic any longer.
I had found a possibility in Mystic Anderson, and no matter right or wrong, my sanity wouldn’t allow me to pass up the chance to find out what she could be to me.
I had pulled over as she was nearing the east side of the park, leading towards her neighborhood. I had pulled over and followed her as she passed the park restrooms. As soon as I had made sure no one was around, I had grabbed her and dragged her into the restroom.
She had screamed in surprise, but once I’d had her up against the restroom wall and she saw that it was me, her screams had turned into frightened whimpers.
She had known why I was there.
I remember her fighting at first.
I remember her confusion and her distress.
But, mostly, I remember how fucking wet her pussy had been when I had stuck my hand down her pants. I remember her not telling me to stop. I remember how she cried, but I also remember how she moaned like a porn star.
I remember the blood, too.
I remember the blood from her unused cunt, and I remember the blood from my bites. I remember the blood underneath her fingernails from fighting me. But I also remember the blood from where her nails had dug into my flesh as she came all over my cock.
It was the first time I had ever fucked a girl, and Mystic Anderson has been the only girl I’ve been fucking for the past three years. She was the only girl I could fuck because I was addicted to her and the things she let me do to her.
I was also unreasonably in love with the girl.
I mean, seriously unreasonably so.
And now, passing the dining room towards the living room, I could see her standing next to Margot, talking and, apparently, having a good time.
My only problem with that was the good time she seemed to be having involved Dillon Mills, and knowing he wanted to fuck her, that was not a good thing.
Not a good thing at all.
Chapter 7
Mystic~
I knew the second he entered the room.
I can always feel when he’s near.
I also knew Dillon Mills was standing way too close to me.
The only thing I didn’t know was if it was going to be me or Dillion who was going to suffer for it.
The first time I had ever seen Gage Evans it had felt like being hit with a lightning bolt; shocking and paralyzing.
I had been getting my Calculus book out of my locker when I’d heard a slam of metal. When I had looked over, I’d been blown away by the pure hatred etched all over his gorgeous face. And, make no mistake, Gage Evans was unbelievably gorgeous.
He was over six-foot with dark brown hair and stunning blue eyes. They were framed by lashes so thick, they belonged on a girl. His face was pure masculine cuts and angles and his body was made up of the same. Being an athlete, Gage was rocking the hard, toned body of a god. He oozed confidence and walked like he just didn’t give a damn. And, for the most part, he didn’t.
We had stared at each other long after the bell for class had rung, and I remember feeling like his hate had been holding me captive. It had felt like I needed his permission to break the spell, because that’s what it had felt like.
It had felt like Gage Evans had me under a spell.
He had tortured and tormented me for a year after that first day. He had lurked in the shadows and had stalked me until I had become an emotional spazztastic mess. When he was playing football or hanging out with his friends, his vibe was always easy-going and superficial. He was the life of the party and