Trace tilts his head at me as he watches the panic sink in. And then a smirk curls over his lips.
“What did he say to you, Olivia?” His tone is sinisterly calm, so much so that it threads danger into my brain.
“You,” I start, looking into his eyes, feeling confused. “You did this,” I state.
I see the look on Trace’s face. One of pride but also betrayal, annoyed that I’m stepping away from him. But he jumps, crowding me in and slamming up against the tree behind me.
I gasp as he wraps his hand around my neck, leaning in and pressing his lips to mine.
He kisses me, a gentle counter to the grip he has on my throat, squeezing as his lips brush mine softly. And I melt, letting him have me even as fear grips my soul.
And then he pulls away, but lets his hand trail down from my neck over to the curve of my breast and down. I react. I press my lips together, my cheeks burning and my eyes fluttering closed as his hand continues down past the hem of my skirt, and then, he slides his hand underneath.
“Yeah,” he starts, as he moves his hands up my skirt. I gasp, a lusty sound that betrays me but it’s inevitable to deny the way he makes my body feel. “I did it, Olivia. I tied him up and beat the crap out of him because he knew something and I wanted him to tell me. I stabbed him in the fucking leg just because I wanted to. And watching his blood fill for my enjoyment was riveting, Olivia. Does make you afraid of me?”
I open my eyes right as Trace leans in. I stay completely still as he moves his hand to touch the hem of my fishnets, teasing his finger along the edge. His other hand is above my head, towering over me.
He moves his mouth to hover near my ear, his breath creating heat over my skin to counteract the chill from the snow that falls from the sky. And then he pushes his hand down, lowering himself past my tights, and into my panties.
“Tell me, Reckless…” Trace parts my lips, moving his finger against my clit before traveling down. “If I were to take the hilt of my knife, the same one I stabbed into his skin, and pressed it against your pretty little cunt, would you quiver?”
Of, fuck.My eyes roll back, feeling like a prisoner to the way he’s touching me. Then he slides his finger up and down, up and down. Slow, deliberate strokes centering me in a compelling chaotic wave of ecstasy while he speaks a horrific fantasy to me.
“Would it terrify you to know that the same bloody weapon that used to tear into a man’s flesh is the same weapon that would bring you to an orgasm so fucking hard, you’d see heaven?”
He presses his finger into my pussy, and I can’t help but moan. What he’s saying is wrong, it’s gross, but it’s turning me on. Fear colliding with pleasure, confusing the lines between the two.
“You’re fucking crazy, Trace,” I say, realizing it comes out with lust marking my tone.
“I have a reason to be, Olivia.” He pushes his palm into my clit, his eyes claiming me like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
“What else did he say to you?” he asks as he continues to move his finger inside of me. I want to scream, to push him off me. But it feels too good. Even though I’m mad at him, even though he’s been nothing but a fucking dick to me, I want it too badly to deny him. To deny myself.
But then he pulls his finger out of me, and my body slumps, feeling empty. I watch as he slides his finger over his lips, darting out his tongue to taste me,before pushing his finger all the way into his mouth and sucking.
“Fear tastes so fucking good on you, Livie.Jesus.” He stares at me, his eyes burning into the very depths of my soul.
Who the fuck am I kidding? I hate him. I’ve hated him for so fucking long that I hate that I hate him. And, yet, this is what I want. I want him to claim me. I want him to chase after me. I want him to fucking ruin me. He’s been watching me and the realization that he’s been here, hunting me from the shadows does sinful things to me. Things I forced myself to deny because I thought I had to be ashamed of the way I view pleasure.
I spent years trying to get over him, trying to pretend like he wasn’t fucking threaded into me, sewn into my soul. I’m done hiding who I am. I’m done denying myself. My life has been a lie. Lost memories. Secrets unfurling about people who I thought were closest to me. I don’t know who I can trust anymore and soon, I feel like this town will swallow me whole.
There’s a darkness that I refuse to embrace. But I want it. If that’s all I can have, I fucking want it.
Broden breaks the silence, his agonizing groans resound, echoing quietly around us. I look over just as Trace does, seeing that he’s moving. Slowly, but he’s moving.
“Fuck,” Trace says as he pulls out his phone. “I’ve got to take care of this.” And as I watch his finger move across the screen of his phone, dialing a number, I realize that now is my chance.
I take off in a full sprint, feet pounding into the ground as wind and snow dance with my hair. Myheart is thundering and my lungs burn in my chest, but I don’t hear movementbehind me. So I stop my run and turn around, eager to see Trace’s reaction. That’s when I see that he’s watching me, his mask now covering his face. The glow of the teal light excites me, my nerve endings buzzing with the anticipation of what comes next. Trace tilts his head, and that’s when I see the glint of silver by his hand. The blade of a knife.
My breath hitches, fear sinking into my core as something more erotic floods my veins. And then, without warning, Trace takes his first step toward me and I run.
24
TRACE
“I’m gonna split you in two.” — Freddy Krueger, A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)
This is it. She’s finally done hiding behind her shame and her unresolved grief. The look in her eyes tells me everything I needed to know, she’s ready. She wants me to claim her. For me to unveil her pain and her fears and provoke the shadows that keep her broken past hidden from her. So I’ll play, knowing that this is bigger than she can ever imagine. Knowing that there’s more at stake here. That everything I’m doing with her is with intention, and she might not know it yet, but the first step is getting her to let me take control, to let go.
