Page 39 of The Wallflower

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Page 39 of The Wallflower

His grip tightens, and I grit my teeth, bearing through the pain. My vision becomes blurry, and my lungs start to burn from the absence of oxygen. Sirens go off in my mind. The muscles in my limbs start to lose feeling, and I become weaker.

Would this guy kill me? Maybe. He’s got the personality type to do it.

Blackness threatens to take over, and for half a second, I start to doubt his desire to keep me around. I had assumed he wouldn’t kill me, that I wasn’t worth that much trouble.

Before I can finish the thought, the pressure on my throat disappears. I sag against the shelf and half gasp, half cough while sucking precious oxygen back into my deflated lungs.

I look into the dark eyes of the man who has shown me both pleasure and pain. Menace and kindness. The look of desire, of unholy obsession that reflects back at me freezes me with fear. A smile touches his lips, and the sudden whiplash I feel over hischange in emotions makes me spiral. He reaches for me, and I flinch. Of course he doesn’t care, and continues doing what he wants, tracing my cheek with his finger like he didn’t just try to strangle the life out of me moments before.

“I think I’ve figured it out, Bel. What it is that makes you so appealing. You said it best. You don’t give a shit about my name, what I look like, or how much money I have. None of the superficial things matter to you. In fact, if I had to guess, I’d say you don’t like me very much right now, if at all… and that’s okay. I can like you enough for both of us.” The boyish grin he gives me is a terrible attempt at easing the tension. “But let me warn you, there is a reason many steer clear of me. None of the superficial things have to mean shit to you, but I need you to use that brain of yours and not push me past the point of no return. Make it easy on both of us and be the good girl I know you can be.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” I hiss through my teeth. It’s a complete lie. I’m not just afraid—I’m fucking terrified—but you can’t do anything but face fear. You own it…or it owns you. What’s worse, I can’t tell if I’m more afraid of him or how he makes me feel.

“And that’s why I want you and no one else, flower. Can’t you see how perfect we are together?”

“No thanks,” I mumble and attempt to make a beeline in front of him. My body crashes against his bigger stature as he steps forward, cutting me off. His huge hands come out of nowhere, cupping my cheeks, and he drags me closer. Leaning in, he presses his full lips firmly against mine. I've kissed people before, and I know what it feels like.

This isn’t a kiss. It’s a fuckingclaiming. A form of ownership, a show of dominance. His tongue probes against my lips, and I press my own tighter together, refusing to allow him entrance. He fixes that with a simple press of his thumbs into my soft cheeks. Pain fills my face, and I open my mouth on instinct tostop it. His tongue invades my mouth and tangles with my own. His touch, his kiss… It's a promise, a warning.

The thing is, I’ve been dealt a shitty hand my entire life, and I’ve determined the only way I can get a better hand is if I do the dealing. Choosing my next move, I lift my hands and press them against his chest flat, then I sink my teeth into his lip, hard enough that the coppery tang of blood fills my mouth. I shove him at the same time as he pulls back, his body teetering and off balance. Finally, I caught him off guard. Those dark eyes of his clash with mine, the promise of pain reflecting back at me.

“You bit me.” It’s more of an astonished statement than a question. “You made me bleed.”

I shrug, even as tiny warning bells go off in my mind, telling me that I should be running. The less likely of a challenge I appear to Drew, the more likely he is to walk away.

“Good. We’re even then. Since you know you claimed my virginity and made me bleed.”

He cocks his head to the side, clearly considering my statement. “I suppose, but there are other ways to make me bleed. Ways that don’t involve pissing me the fuck off.”

“It’s only fair that I get to choose the circumstances in which you bleed since you got to choose mine without my consideration.”

This all appears to be backfiring on me because instead of warning him off, he looks curious and interested. “Every time I think I know what you’ll do next, you surprise me. I like it. I like the shock and uncertainty. You’re unpredictable, the chaos to my madness.”

“I don’t want to be anything to you. All I want is to figure out what you want from me so I can fulfill that obligation and get the hell off your radar. Other girls might find the lengths you go to gain access to them romantic, but I am not them.”

He looks me up and down, his gaze hungry and demanding. “Believe me, I know, which makes you all the more appealing. Like I said before, the more you fight, the harder I’ll tighten my hold.”

The reality that he isn’t going to disappear into the background and leave me alone hits me like a ton of bricks. “I’m begging you, please. I won’t tell anyone what happened in the woods. I’m no one.Nothing. I just want things to go back to normal. I want to be unnoticed and blend in with the background.”

“I already told you, Maybel. The answer is no. I’m not going anywhere. I can’t forget your existence. Not when I’ve just discovered your beauty. You’re mine. Accept it, and it'll be more pleasurable for you. Don't, and it'll be better for me. The choice is yours."

His tone is crystal clear. He means every word he says, and that’s as terrifying as the reality that I’ve garnered the attention of a man who seems intent on keeping me no matter what.

CHAPTER 13

DREW

Some days,rarely anymore, hell is on my side. And by hell, I mean I paid off one of the nurses who takes care of my mother to tell me when my father will be off the estate for an extended period. My phone pings again as my personal accountant tells me the transfer went through to Nurse Helen. She gets a bonus when I can actually sneak onto the estate to see my mother without my father knowing since he always makes a big bullshit show of things if he catches me there, especially if I'm still with her when he arrives. Yet he has no problem throwing it in my face that I don’t see her enough. A complete narcissist if I ever met one.

I scrub my hands over my wet hair and walk faster to the motorcycle I barely ever use in the garage at The Mill. My father's driver usually takes me anywhere I need to go unless I choose to walk, but for this, he can't. The house was quiet when I left, and I showered at lightning speed before racing down the stairs and out the door.

It's early still, nine o’clock, the sun already peeking through the nearby forest trees.

I smile when I think about the last time I was in those woods. With Bel.

Fucking Bel.

I touch my tender lip where she'd made me bleed, and I smile all over again, the skin stretching, a lick of pain washing through the tiny cut. Oh yes, she's so much more than I thought she'd be. A beautiful, chaotic mess that I intend to dirty up. The engine roars beneath my legs, vibrating through me. The sound and feeling make me miss riding this thing. The wind in my hair, whipping all around me, the speed and agility. I hit the throttle, my speed climbing as I hurdle down the road. It’s a short drive to the estate, and I hate how quickly it goes.




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