I say nothing, so he slams my face into the wall. Everything is black and I’m on the verge of passing out and I have no choice because I can’t allow that to happen again.
“Yes,” I tell him. “I understand.”
He lets me go, and I crumple to the floor. His breathing is harsh, and his eyes are excited. Alive.
His zipper comes down and my stomach roils.
He grabs my hair again and tries to pull me up onto my knees. When my knees don’t cooperate, he kicks me in the calf to make sure that they do.
And then he’s got his cock out, rubbing it in my face. It’s happening all over again, and I want to kill him but I’m too weak and when I try to hurt him he hits me again.
There is no hesitation. He just keeps coming at me. And he gets off on my pain and now I know he is the monster that fucked up Kylie.
I need to get away from him.
But I’m dizzy and weak and I can barely form a coherent thought. When he squeezes my jaw and tries to shove himself in my mouth, acid lurches up my throat. And my body supplies its own defense mechanism. By vomiting all over him.
There’s a sound of utter revulsion followed by a harsh shove.
“God, you’re fucking disgusting.”
And yet all the while, he’s stroking himself in his palm. Getting off on the filth of it all. The revulsion he feels when he looks down at me.
It isn’t long before he tips his head back and lets out a groan, spurting his come all over my dress.
“Filthy whore.” He zips himself back up and straightens out his clothing. “Don’t think for a second those tricks are going to work for you. Next time, I’ll fuck you face down in your own vomit.”
He moves towards the door, only pausing to give me one last instruction.
“You have a week to make your decision,” he says. “Death or marriage.”
Six
Scarlett
Hell isempty and all the devils are here- Shakespeare
“Tonight’s initiation night,” Hanna whispers from the other end of the line.
“How do you know?” I feign ignorance.
“I got a note in my locker after school. It said I have to meet outside campus just after midnight.”
“Cool,” I tell her. “I hope you get in.”
“You’re going to get a note too,” she insists. “There’s no way with your family’s alumni that you wouldn’t.”
I don’t tell her that I already got a note, and I have no desire to follow up on it.
“I wouldn’t go anyway,” I say. “The whole thing is so archaic.”
“Are you kidding?” Hanna hisses as if it’s the worst thing I could ever say. “Ten, you HAVE to go. It’s complete social suicide if you don’t. Besides, what would your mother say if she knew?”
My eyes dart across the kitchen to the woman in question and I know exactly what my mother would say. She’d blow a gasket if she knew I didn’t go.
Every woman in my family for the last three generations has been a member of Birds of a Feather. Being a Birdie is an Albright birthright, my mother says. An honor and a tradition that I need to take seriously.
I wish I cared as much as her, but it seems so stupid. It’s not like these ‘secret’ societies are even secret anymore. Everyone knows who’s in them and who runs the school. And regardless if I’m a Birdie or not, my social status is not going to change at Marquardt Prep. I’m a nobody, and that’s exactly how I prefer it.
