I drive my knee up, hard, catching his thigh.
Not good enough.
He grunts but doesn’t let go, just grabs harder, dragging me back a step.
“You think Carrson’s going to come save you?” he says against my ear. “He threw you away. I watched the whole thing. How you cried. Begged. And he just stood there.”
There’s rage in his words, but it’s notatme.
It’sforme.
Like he can’t understand how anyone could look at me…and then walk away.
“I’d never do that.” His words are full of devotion, but his hands are all violence. They slam into my chest, shoving me back hard. “I’d never push you away.”
I lose my footing and land on my back, the impact rattling through my bones. He’s on me a second later.
“Finally,” he breathes out with relief. His weight pins me, one knee driving into my thigh, the other braced beside my hip. His hand catches my wrists, slamming them above my head into the dirt. He covers me with his body, and my stomach churns at the hardness between his legs.
“Stay still,” he says, voice low, almost soothing. “You’ll make this worse if you keep struggling.”
I buck under him, twisting, trying to wrench free, but he’s stronger, heavier. My wrists grind into the dirt as I struggle, skin scraping, breath coming fast.
“Get off me,” I snap, forcing anger into it instead of fear.
He laughs, the sound twisted this close. “You don’t give orders. I do.”
His grip tightens, fingers digging into my jaw now, forcing my face toward his.
“Carrson had his chance,” he goes on. “And look what he did with it.”
I growl, struggling, but can’t break free.
“Left you out here.” He shakes his head, disgusted. “Unprotected. Alone.”
“I don’t need your protection,” I bite out. “Or his.”
My hands flex uselessly, trapped by his hands.
The tree is there. I can see it out of the corner of my eye.
So close.
Not yet.
I jerk my knee up, trying to catch him off balance, but he shifts with it, absorbing the movement, pushing me harder into the ground.
“Fuck, yeah,” he says, eyes hooded, amused. “That’s what I like about you, babe. You don’t break easy.”
My pulse hammers.
Think, Becky. Think.
I go limp, and he grins.
“Better,” he murmurs, easing up. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
I turn my head so he can see my lip quiver, like I’m giving in.
