and stalking from behind.
“Connor.”
My voice cracks in half.
Then louder: “Red.”
But all that replies is silence.
It’s like he doesn’t hear me.
He keeps circling,
eyes sliding over me
like I’m not speaking at all.
“Red,” I choke out again,
fear strangling my throat.
And he smiles,
keeps moving closer,
my safeword becoming
his favorite joke.
“Red,” I beg. “Please—let me go.”
He laughs,
slapping the whip against his palm,
and laughs again.
—CRACK.
Ben’s palm slams down across my ass,
knocking me back into my body,
the past,
present,
and future collapsing into one moment.
Everything rushes back in?—
my breath,
the cold sweat chilling my skin.
I fall forward, crashing into the mattress.
I don’t feel good. I don’t feel bad.
