“God damn, Doc. I can feel how close you are. This pussy of yours wants to come all over my fingers.”

“Time’s almost up,” I managed to groan out, even in my state of ecstasy I needed to put him in his place.

“Fuck time,” he growled, pushing one long finger deep inside me.

“Aaaaahhhhh,” I called out, leaning against the rock for support.

He was now grinding against me, sliding his cock through the crack of my ass over and over again as he pumped his finger inside me, angling it so that he was pushing against my front wall with his fingertip when he pulled out.

I lost my cocky attitude, suddenly, when he lowered his cock and slid the shaft between my legs, through the wetness dripping down my thighs. A flash of Conner holding me down by my head, while Eric raped me from behind, flooded my mind. I was there again. In that dirty motel room. I could smell his stench and relived the fear as they laughed at my cries for help. “Stop stop stop no!!!!!!!” I screamed, it was no longer Preppy behind me, but Eric. There was no more pleasure. Only pain.

With all the strength I had, I jabbed my elbow into my attacker. Preppy stumbled back with a grunt, holding on to his ribs with one hand, his thick cock purple with his arousal, bobbing up and down as he bent over in pain.

I felt an overwhelming tug of guilt when I realized what I’d done, and that it was not Eric but Preppy that I’d done it to.

Guilt quickly turned to fear.

Preppy stood, straightening his spine and his eyes darkened. He glanced down to where he was covering his torso and pulled his hand away, revealing the bright red spot where my elbow had connected with his ribs. He LAUGHED, and in my head it sounded just like Conner’s laugh, sending a trickle of fear rippling down my spine. “Oh, Doc. You did it now.” And then there it was, for the second time, I saw it. The spark of evil living behind his cocky smile.

Fear crashed into me and the need to escape was overwhelming.

I tried to run, but I forgot where I was and just as I was about to turn, my back connected with the rock wall. I was trapped. He was on me in a second, towering over me, his face up in my face, his cheek against mine. His cock still hard and hot between us, jutting onto my lower stomach. He reached under my shirt and took hold of my nipple, pinching it hard. A bolt of pleasure shot straight to my core.

I didn’t like it.

I didn’t want him, but yet I wanted him. I felt excited and nervous and strong and weak and I wanted to give in, but not as much as I wanted to get out.

My head was a cloud of confusion, a mixture of fear and want, delivered courtesy of the man glaring at me as if he were about to eat me alive.

There was no doubt in my mind that he wouldn’t.

“Stop! Stop! No!” I cried. Preppy watched as a tear fell onto my cheek, following it as it rolled down my face and dripped off my chin onto his chest. That’s when I noticed that, in an odd way, he reminded me of Mirna, except instead of being unfocused, it was as if he was almost hyper focused. He reached between my legs and I pushed them together, trying to keep him out. Trying to make it all stop. It was too much. He was too much. I was scared. More scared than I’d ever been, but there was nothing I could do to stop him when he pushed his knee between my legs, spreading me wide open. “No! Nooooooo!” I slapped him across the face as hard as I could, but wherever it was he’d gone, it was like there was no coming back from. He didn’t even flinch.

I pushed against him as hard as I could. Pounding on his chest with my closed fists, kicking him with my legs. “Then you’re just like them!” I screamed. “You’re just like them!” I said, wailing against his chest.

He stilled.

Slowly, Preppy lifted his head and when his eyes met mine, it was as if whatever spell he was under had been broken. “I wouldn’t…” he said, and then he stopped like there was more to say, but he didn’t know how to say it.

Suddenly, he reared back, slamming his fist into the rock above my head with a roar tearing from his throat. The soft rock crumbled into tiny pieces, falling over us in a cloud of dust and debris. He released me and I dropped to the floor, pulling my knees up to my chest and sobbing out my relief.

Preppy moved back hesitantly, one slow step at a time. He watched me cry with confusion written all over his face. For someone who was so aggressive only seconds before, he now looked defeated. Vulnerable. He grabbed his jeans and quickly tugged them on.

“I’m not just like them,” he said, his jaw tight. His fists clenching over and over again. “Because they didn’t stop did they?”

I shook my head.

Preppy ran his hand through his hair and punched the rock for the second time. I yelped. His muscles across his cheek and neck tensed. He was breathing erratically. His look drilled me to the rock. “I’d kill him all over again if I could.” He grabbed his shirt and darted through the opening I wasn’t able to find, its location now ridiculously obvious.

It made sense that his body was built for sin, because the hold Samuel Clearwater had over me was something straight from the depths of hell.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

PREPPY

PRESENT

I was beginning to think I’d never again see the light of day.

Or light at all.

I didn’t even really know where I was being held. All I knew for sure was that the walls and floor were both made of dirt and were cold and damp to the touch on some days and dry and dusty on others. The ceiling felt low although I couldn’t see it.

My voice echoed all around me when I talked to myself. “There isn’t a damned thing a chick could wear that’s hotter than high heels. That’s a motherfucking fact,” I said, into the darkness. “You can hold on to them when you fuck, too, so they serve a practical purpose. It was I who coined the term ‘handlebars,’” I coughed up dust, choking on it when I breathed it back in.

Surprisingly, the darkness answered me back and a dim light walked toward me, growing brighter with each step. “Shut the fuck up, asshole,” Chop muttered, shining his flashlight into my eyes.

“You know, if you didn’t look like Bear’s older, uglier doppelgänger, I would never think that the two of you were even related. ’Cause even when Bear is PMSing and in a bitch-ass mood, he’s still all there upstairs.” I pointed at the gray-haired man, staring hatred down at me. “You sir…have a few pumpkins missing from your patch.” I swayed and my vision blurred, when it came back into focus a few seconds later, Chop’s hovering image shifted from one to three, then back to one.