“Fuck, baby girl,” he moans, his rhythm speeding up, “keep saying my name.”
When he comes, I’m at the mercy of a feral beast who twists his claws into my hair and pulls my head back, licking and biting my throat like he’s about to eat me alive.
Maybe I wish he did.
After he finishes, his breaths slow but he lingers over me like he’s guarding a kill from scavengers. I don’t mind, because I wouldn’t mind suffocating in his jaws, like I’m suffocated by his intoxicating presence every day.
“Bo?” My voice shakes when I finally manage to form a sentence, “Can we do that again?”
He squeezes the top of my throat, tilting my face up to his, “You’re not going anywhere,” he scoffs, “I’m nowhere near done with you tonight.”
Technically, Bo did teach me to fuck like him. Sneaking down the hall to his room, parking his car in the middle of nowhere, running around the woods with him, watching him scale the pine right outside my bedroom window—after that first night, I just wanted to be wherever he was. And it’s not difficult, he usually finds me before I find him.
I just have to figure out how to tell Hildy…eventually.
“I don’t care who you tell or don’t tell,” Bo says before I leave his bedroom to sneak back down the hall. He squeezes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, this time with a smile, “As long as you don’t forget who you belong to now, that’s all that matters.”
That’s all that matters.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
Colson
High School
I can drive like I should be out on the salt flats, breaking land speed records, or on a racetrack somewhere, ripping around curves and disappearing like an apparition, but I can’t play pool for shit.
Still pissed off and not knowing when to quit, I’ve already lost whatever was in my wallet to Mason. Finally deciding I’ve embarrassed myself enough, I relinquish my stick to some dark-haired girl I recognize from English and wander over to the sofa where Alex is about to pour a line of shots.
“Where’s Aiden?” I ask, “Isn’t he coming over?”
Alex shoots me a look and then continues pouring. I don’t know why I bother to ask. That’s what Aiden does, he disappears and reappears at will and no one ever sees him when he does. It’s been especially true this year since he’s had something new to keep him…occupied.
My phone vibrates and my look turns to disgust when I see it’s a text from Bowen. What does
that idiot want now? One thing’s for certain—next time we race, I’m picking the route and he can careen off the road into the quarry for all I care.
He sent me a video, but the thumbnail’s too dark and blurry to recognize anything. It’s probably a video one of his loser friends took of me arriving at Grumpy’s long after Bowen’s sham win. I should just delete it. It’ll only piss me off more, and I’m too drunk for this right now.
But, I don’t, because I’m apparently a masochist and I want to get even angrier. I’m sure someone here will fight me if I ask. Maybe that’s what I need—to take a few hits and then beat someone senseless. But instead, I tap the thumbnail to play the video.
Immediately, my heart seizes and it feels like someone’s just punched me square in the chest.
The first thing I see is Evie’s profile. She’s in a dim room, on a bed, on her hands and knees, and she’s naked.
My eyes bulge and I sink back into the sofa cushions, trying to hide my screen. I’m probably doing a shitty job of it. I glance around, but no one’s paying attention to me. Thank God the sound is either really low or non-existent, otherwise I’d just off myself right here in the middle of Mason’s basement.
Bile rises in my throat and it tastes like Old Crow. “No…no…” I mumble, staring at my screen, but not wanting to stare at my screen, “God…no…” It’s a fucking trainwreck and I can’t look away. “Fuck…no!”
Hearing my incoherent mumbling, Mason stumbles around the corner of the pool table, “What, dude?”
“Nothing,” I lock the screen, “not a goddamn thing.” I shake my head, thoroughly tweaked the fuck out, “Uh, Bowen…” I stammer, “just fucking with me.”
“That guy,” Mason scoffs as the same girl takes the stick from him, “he’s lucky the cops showed up before you laid his ass out,” he shoots me a smile over his shoulder, “just like the Canaan game.”
“Damn straight,” I mutter as I vault off the sofa and make my way down the hall to the bathroom.
There’s no way I’m watching this where any asshole could walk behind me and see it. Then again, I could just delete it. But then I wouldn’t know whether Evie’s in trouble. Right now, it’s the only possible scenario that comes to mind, and Bowen knows that. If Evie’s in this video, he knows I’ll suffer through whatever fucked up shit he sends me.
I duck into the bathroom and lock the door before opening my phone again. Once I get over the initial shock and pull my shit together, I realize Bowen is on the bed, too, holding her waist and fucking her doggy-style.
My heart sinks and my mouth twists into a grotesque scowl, “Ugh…”
He’s not gentle about it, either. Evie’s lurching back and forth, trying to brace herself against the mattress while her long red hair swings back and forth over her shoulders. But she doesn’t look like she’s under duress. As much as it makes me want to gag, her mouth is hanging open in a crooked smile like she’s enjoying it.
I can’t decide whether I’m too drunk for this or not drunk enough.
This was obviously recorded on a phone, but from the angle and stillness of the shot, it doesn’t look like there’s anyone else in the room. Good thing, or else I’d have to find out who and kill them, too. Based on what’s in frame, it looks like the phone’s propped up on something in forward facing camera mode. Evie probably doesn’t even know it’s recording…
What a fucking asshole.
I watch with revulsion as Bowen wraps her hair around his fist and pulls her off the bed, back against his chest. She lets out a squeak, which fills me with rage. There’s sound after all, it’s just really low. The bed is a box spring and mattress laying on the floor instead of a frame, which makes all their movements nearly silent. He grabs one of her tits and holds her head back while he continues fucking her.
“Am I hurting you, baby girl?” he says loud enough for the camera to pick up.
“Not—” Evie stammers, “not anymore…”
Then Bowen turns to the camera—he fucking turns to the camera—and grins.
