I grip the sink with both hands, looking into my glassy, teary eyes in the mirror.
One day at a time.
That’s what I’ve been telling myself since I kissed Nico. I knew this was too good to last, and I fought not to get too comfortable, not to let my romantic side take the reins and imagine a future I’d never have.
I wipe my cheeks when the door swings inward, flooding the restroom with Six’s take on “I Got 5 on It” which drowns the tornado of thoughts brewing in my head.
For a second, I fail to realize this isn’t a unisex restroom.
I fail to realize these three guys shouldn’t be in here...
It all clicks when my eyes lock withhis.
He’s changed a bit since high school: lost weight he never had much of to spare. His skin is ashen, eyes dull, but disdain shines clearly, and a giant cold fist clutches my stomach.
The air shifts immediately. An unrelenting aura of impending doom fills the space when his best friend, Michael, slaps a makeshiftOut of ordersign on the door before yanking it closed. He stands his ground, barricading the exit with his big body and greeting me with a sly smirk.
I don’t care much about him or Jessie, who scrutinizes me with a hard edge to his narrowed eyes. My focus is on Jake Grey, his steel-gray irises almost completely swallowed by blown pupils, the way he grinds his teeth back and forth, the tremble of his hands...
“Missed me, BJ?” he asks, cracking his neck as he casually leans his hip against the sink.
Cold fear slithers in my gut, the space between us less than five feet. I’ve got no chance, but I snatch my bag off the sink, tugging the zipper.
“Grab her!” Jake booms.
I almost close my hand around the pepper spray. So close, but Jessie rips the bag out of my grasp, tossing it aside, and ties my hands behind my back, his bony fingers hurting my wrists.
Panic kicks in. An unreasoning, nerve-shaking, blood-to-water-turning sort of horror courses through my veins, rendering me momentarily useless.
“Calm down, BJ,” Jake chuckles. “I’m here to help.”
“Help?” I choke, glancing right and left, up and down, assessing my position, the distance to the pepper spray that rolled out of my bag, stopping not far from where Michael’s barricading the door. “Help withwhat?”
He pulls his phone out, tapping the screen. “I hear Brandon Price is playing games with you. He put a prize up for the first guy who fucks you, correct?” He looks up from the screen, his nostrils flaring. “Correct?!”
I nod, struggling against Jessie’s hold. “Let me go.”
“Not so fast,” Jake tuts, taking a few wobbly steps from the sinks, pointing at the ground before him. “Get her on her knees.”
“N-no,” I stutter. “Please, just—”
“Please, just stop,” Jake mocks, imitating my voice. “Relax, BJ. It’ll be fun. I’vewanted that pouty mouth of yours wrapped around my dick since I nicknamed you Blow Job Lips back in fucking high school,” he muses, unbuckling his belt.
The realization of what’s about to happen grips my throat like cold, dead hands squeezing hard enough to cut off my air supply. Every self-defense technique the triplets taught me evaporates from my mind.
I’ve got nothing. My mind blanks. Panic grows swiftly, annihilating rational thought.
I thrash about, losing the battle before it begins.Jessie manhandles me to where Jake stands. He bumps the back of my knees with his, and I hit the ground, wincing when a sharp jab of pain shoots up my legs.
“You hated me for years,” I choke, grasping the only rational thought: play for time. The triplets are outside. They’ll start looking for me soon. I’ve been here too long already. I just need to stall. “You didn’t want me to touch you all through kindergarten, and now you want me to blow you?”
He grips a fistful of my hair, yanking me back so hard I yelp. “I don’t have to like you. I think the fact Idon’tlikeyou makes this even more exciting.”
Tears drip down my nose.
My stomach curls into a hard, hot ball, and I tremble all over while Jessie holds my hands behind my back.
“What happened?” I pant through the sting of my hair getting almost ripped out of my skull. “You bragged about how girls fall over themselves to get a taste of you every day back in high school. No one wants to blow you willingly anymore?”
