don’t say anything, and instead, hang up. The accident made my mother love me more, while it made my father resent me. All of that is okay, though, because the way they feel about me doesn’t matter. I know I’m a killer. I know I did this to myself.
Taking another sip of coffee, I’m hit with a jolt of joyful pleasure as it reaches my belly. I shouldn’t be able to be happy, even if it’s from something as simple as drink or food. Feeling sick to my stomach, I walk into the kitchen and pour the beverage out, watching as it swirls down the drain.
Throwing the cup away, I walk back out into the living room. I’m feeling antsy, but I know if I start doing something, I’ll feel better. My apartment is already spotless, so I pull my books out and start on some homework.
For about two hours, I work on my paper for economics class. I nibble on my bottom lip as I scribble down sentence after sentence.
The sound of heavy knocking on my door has me damn near falling off the couch. I know without even looking through the peephole who it is. I should let him assume I’m not here, but I guess I’m a glutton for punishment because I unlock the door and pull it open a little bit.
Jackson’s stupidly handsome face greets me, but he isn’t smiling. No, the look he’s giving me promises pain and fear.
“You missed creative writing. I told the professor I would stop by with the assignment.”
Wow. I’m a little shocked. It’s unlike the Jackson that I’ve come to know now, but I give him the benefit of the doubt and open the door a little wider, extending my arm out for him to hand me the paper. My naiveté is almost laughable.
Catching me off guard, he shoves the door open, forcing me to take a step back as his hulking frame fills the doorway. The stoic look on his face gives way to a malicious grin, and I know something bad is going to happen. Fear snakes up my spine and tightens around my throat.
“You… you didn’t come here to give me homework, did you?” I bite my bottom lip to stop it from quivering. Every time I’m alone with Jackson, I am reminded of how different he is.
How little he cares. It’s shocking because the boy I remember would’ve killed anyone who looked at Jillian or me the wrong way. But I guess that boy died when she did.
“How did you know?” He grins, stepping all the way into the apartment, closing the door behind him. We’re completely alone now. Yes, if I screamed loud enough, my neighbors would hear, but I’m not sure they would do anything.
“I don’t want you here. Leave. You can’t keep barging into my apartment. I’ll go to the police.” The threat doesn’t meet its mark and only seems to piss him off.
In a second, Jackson has me cornered, his huge body towering over me, making me feel small and insignificant.
He leans into my trembling form and whispers into the shell of my ear, “Call the police. They won’t help you. No one will. No one can save you.”
“Please, just leave.” I lift my hands out of instinct, mainly to push him away, but find the moment my hands touch his chest, the noise around me becomes a low hum. As if my touch burns him, he takes a step back, and my hands fall away, coming to rest at my sides.
“No can do. I’ve come to collect my payment. It’s time to use that mouth of yours. My cock is only so patient.” I swallow the scream of terror, trying to claw its way out of my throat.
“Jackson, please… please, don’t do this…” The fear is so real. The memory of that night is all I can see inside my head. The way they held me down and used my mouth over and over again. I can still feel their hands on my skin, feel the saliva sliding down my chin.
“Such a fucking slut. You think Jackson can protect you?” Fingers dig into my head, ripping the hair from my scalp, still, no matter how bad the pain, I don’t open my eyes. I refuse.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, bug. All you’re doing is sucking my cock. You owe me some fun, don’t you think?” Jackson’s voice pierces through the hazy fog around my mind, but every