“What?”
“A handjob. Or a blowjob. Want a blowjob?”
I loosen my grip on her in hurt surprise. So that’s what this is to her? That’s what she thinks I want? A cold transactional fuck?
“The hoodie’s over there,” I mutter, nodding at it. “You can have it.”
“Oh.” She sits uncertainly on me as I pull my arms away. “You mean… I should go?”
“Yes. Go to bed. We have another long drive tomorrow.”
“Oh,” she says again. “Okay.”
She scrambles up and goes to bed, leaving the hoodie untouched.
I don’t touch it either as I lie back on the floor, turned resolutely away from her. Despite my resolve to stay awake untilI hear her snoring, I fall asleep to the sound of her quiet sobs.
Chapter 5
Piper
Idon’t know what’s wrong with me.
My entire body has turned into a vat of incomprehensible emotion ever since I woke up convinced Quill had shot me.
I believe by now that he didn’t. I believe that he didn’t kill my parents. I believe that he didn’t tell his friends to rape me.
I believe a whole lot of things after having seen the look on his face when I accused him of them.
But accepting what he didn’t do also means accepting what hediddo.
It’s like I’m finally having to deal with all the shit he’s put me through over the years.
From the hardcore bullying in high school that I’d conveniently forgotten all about the moment he first kissed me.
To the way he treated me after dumping me, all while stalking me and going after the people I dated.
Even if Ihadcheated on him, I wouldn’t have deserved all of that.
People cheat on each other all the time. How many of them get choked in back alleys while getting fucked with a gun and called a worthless whore?
But the hardest thing I’m having to accept is my own reaction to it all. Because if he’s a criminal, then I’m definitely fucking complicit.
He called me a whore, and I begged for more. He watched me while I slept, and I asked him to fuck me when I awoke. He aimed a gun at me, and now I’m on a forty-hour fucking road trip with him.
And even after all that, it takes all the energy I have not to give in to him. The truth is, Ihavegiven in, twice already in just one day, each time trying to convince myself that my feeble protests meant I didn’t want it.
Fuck, am I pathetic.
It takes forever for me to fall asleep, and when I awake hours later, it’s with a pounding sinus headache from all the crying.
Between my still-teary eyes and my shitty vision, it takes me a while to find my glasses on the bedside table. Another moment to put them on, and still longer to realize that…
I’m alone.
Okay, what the fuck?
I jump up, suddenly realizing I’m still stark-naked, and hurriedly hunt for some clothes in the suitcase. Jeans, a shirt, panties. I don’t bother with the bra, which is a size A anyway. I pull up a pair of socks and some sneakers, whip my arms into a sweater, then rush over to the door and open it.
