"Because you hit me." My voice doesn't waver. "Because you called me a slut. Because you made me feel exactly the way Marco did—powerless, small, trapped. And I swore I'd never let anyone do that to me again."
Daniel's face crumples. "Liza, I'm not—I would never—"
"You already did."
Someone knocks on the door. Reeves. "Liza? You okay in there?"
"I'm fine," I call back. "Almost done." I take a breath, steadier now. "I saw him again about six months later."
Daniel blinks. "What?"
"Marco. At a house party. I'd been planning it for weeks, working up the courage." I cross my arms, lean harder against the door. "I walked right up to him, all smiles. Flirted. Acted like what happened in the woods was no big deal. Like I'd wanted it all along."
"Liza—"
"He bought it. Of course he did. His ego was massive. Thought I was just another stupid girl who couldn't resist him." I laugh, sharp. "We went upstairs to a bedroom. He started kissing me, pawing at me. Then he asked me to go down on him."
Daniel's face drains of color.
"So I got on my knees." I watch his expression shift to horror. "Unzipped his jeans. Pulled him out. And I pretended for just a second or two, just long enough for him to relax."
"Oh my God."
"Then I bit down." I mime it with my teeth, a quick snap. "As hard as I could. Tore right into that thing.”
Daniel leans forward. "You—what?"
“I heard he needed surgery and got a bad infection.” I shrug. "Grapevine talk, you know how it is."
"Jesus Christ, Liza."
"He tried to attack me after. Screaming, bleeding everywhere. But I came prepared." I tap my jacket pocket. "Pepper spray. Hit him right in the face while he was clutching himself. Left him crying on the floor."
Daniel just stares, mouth open.
"I know you hate how I'm always chewing gum. Life-long habit. It came in handy that day. Turns out all that Hubba Bubba I was chewing back then gave me a jaw like a steel trap." I smile, but there's nothing warm in it. "And all that rage I'd been carrying? It had to go somewhere."
"That's... you could've been charged. Arrested."
"Maybe. But he never reported it. Funny how that works, isn't it? Didn't want everyone knowing what happened. Didn't want to admit a sixteen-year-old girl almost bit off his cock."
I cross the room slowly, deliberately. Daniel leans back like he wants to disappear.
When I reach him, I lean in close. My lips brush his ear.
"Nobody fucks with me," I whisper.
Then I pull back, grab my suitcase, and unlock the door.
Reeves and Greg are standing in the hallway, waiting.
"We good?" Reeves asks.
"Yeah." I don't look back at Daniel. "We're done here."
The guest room is barely bigger than a walk-in closet. Literally. There's a twin bed shoved against one wall, a wide dresser, and a nightstand that wobbles when I set my phone down, and about two square feet of floor space. The window overlooks the neighbor's junkyard, complete with dumpsters and a chain-link fence. The house is super cute, yellow, dollhouse-like and decorated very nicely, but the neighbor's place is an eye-sore. It's such a shame.
I've stayed here before, quite a few times—Reeve's ex-wife being my bestie and all.
