Toxic - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,1

padded as he walked, making slapping noises as he strolled down the length and around to the side of the pool where I was being held. And, beneath the chlorine, I could smell him.

Clean.

Expensive.

That was his scent. Crazy, but true.

Because his presence couldn’t mean anything good, I used the moments I was free from being bound to him to breathe wisely.

I took deep, cleansing inhalations, not shallow, panicked ones, and prepared myself for what was about to happen—Maria hadn’t let go of my hair or of her wrenching hold on my wrists, which she’d shoved between my shoulders. In the thirty or so seconds she gave me to breathe, she’d tightened her grip as though threatening me with more pain if I dared fight her, and the sting to my hairline was like an electric shock to my sensitized face, and my shoulders felt like they were close to dislocating.

I was too exhausted to struggle for real.

Behind me, I heard him talking to the others. Shoulders were slapped, and laughter flowed like champagne, either at my expense or at a joke I hadn’t heard. What I didn’t expect was the feel of a warm hand around the back of my neck.

It was a new touch, and I intrinsically knew it was him. I felt it down to my bones.

For a second, I thought he was going to save me, thought he was going to use that touch to calm me before sliding his fingers down my shoulder, along the length of my arm so he could reach for my hand. I could almost imagine the sensation of our palms brushing together, our digits entwining as he grasped me, before helping me on to my feet.

Even though very little surprised me, he did. When my head was pushed under the water once more, my hands bound in a firmer grip, I closed my eyes as betrayal filled me.

It wasn’t often I felt a connection to anyone, wasn’t often that anyone managed to break through the walls I’d built around myself. But he had. In that intense, ten-second glance, he’d managed to unravel everything that made me me.

And he didn’t even care.

Didn’t even realize what he’d done.

I felt the weight of his hand, the heat of him against me. In the cool depths of the shallow end of the pool, he was a study in contrasts. The warmth of him was so intense in comparison to the water, and that, more than anything, panicked me. I seemed to feel each pressure point of his hand against my skin, and it was foolishness, but I was sure I could even sense the tiny lines of his fingers where the prints were.

A part of me hoped that when I did bruise, those prints would be there. A mark, something tangible, to represent this moment. To commemorate his betrayal and to ram it home.

He held me down, but unlike Maria, he lowered my hands, and instead, shoved his foot on my back, burying it right between my shoulder blades. More than anything, in the morning, if he let me live, I would probably hurt there the most—his brute force was ten times worse than Maria’s, and the way he squashed me, suffocating my ribcage, made the pain in my shoulders seem like a walk in the park.

Everyone here was an enemy, I realized, because he was doing this, just as Maria had, but each of them was involved. They were all wolves dressed in sheep’s clothing, and I was the biggest fool of all. Because I’d believed the lies, believed him, and I’d forgotten I was nothing more than a sheep, because he’d made me forget.

Adam.

What he was doing was the biggest betrayal of all.

One I’d never forgive.

Never forget.

Not until the day I died.

I just hoped today wasn’t that day.

THEA

The second my head broke above the surface, I heard the cheers as well as the strange silence to my left and right. I twisted my head up, saw the massive screen that glared with light, gaped at the picture of my face which took up most of it, and behind my goggles, my eyes widened. Disbelief filled me to the point where I had to twist around further, checking out what was happening.

I mean, I knew, but this? It staggered me.

The glance revealed more than I could have imagined.

What I saw?

Blew. My. Mind.

I was first.

By miles.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. It wasn’t by miles, but in the pool, time was what mattered and...

God, had I

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