A Five-Minute Life

Chapter 14

Thea

The bed dips behind me, making the mattress creak. In a half sleep, I become aware of someone lying next to me. A body curled into mine, a broad chest to my back. Stubble on the back of my neck.

It’s a man.

His panting breath—sour with cigarette smoke—wafts over my cheek. My arm is pulled back and his hand grips mine. Behind me and between us, my fingers are curled around something both warm and hard.

The man holds me there. His fingers guide my hand. Warm skin slides over the hardness. Up and down. Over and over. He groans and my heart crashes in my chest.

I open my eyes for the first time.

It’s dim. A shaft of moonlight falls over the bed.

I crane my head to look behind me. Beady

eyes in a pale face that is silvery in the moonlight. Black hair. The man is silver and black.

My heart pounds and blood rushes to my ears. It’s hard to breathe. There was the accident, and now I’m in this room. With this man. Touching him. He’s making me touch him.

This isn’t right.

How did I get here? How much time have I lost?

“Wh-Who are you? How long has it been?”

“Goddamn, you’re a broken record,” he says, laughing. “You don’t remember, but this is our thing. We had to skip last night, so now I need it more.”

I struggle to pull my hand away but he’s crushing my fingers. Squeezing harder. Up and down.

“No,” I say. “Stop.”

I pull away but I’m under the covers and he’s on top. Pinning me. I can’t move but for my hands. I reach over my shoulder and slap him. The sting flares over my palm. The man grunts, and with his free hand, he grabs my hair and yanks my head back. Terror slithers over my skin with the pain.

“You don’t do that again.”

“You’re hurting me,” I gasp.

“Shh,” he whispers over my ear. His grip on my hair softens. He strokes it as his other hand makes me stroke him. “Don’t fight me. You’re my girl, remember? You want this.”

“No,” I whisper. “This isn’t right…”

“You promised. The other night. The hand stuff has been fun, but you promised more tonight.”

I shake my head. Hot tears are gathering in my eyes. “I don’t… I don’t know you.”

“Sure you do. I told you. I’m your boyfriend. Brett. You had an accident, but you’re back. And now we’re going to do all the things boyfriends and girlfriends do.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and curl into myself. I search my memory for Brett but find nothing but emptiness. He moves to sit up and makes me sit up beside him. He’s stroking himself now, jutting out from white uniform pants.

I’m alone. The man is here with me but I’m so alone.

He chuckles at my expression. “You don’t like this? Don’t worry. In a few minutes, you won’t remember anyway.” His hand slinks back into my hair, to pull my head down. “And you promised—”

The door slams open so hard, it rebounds off the wall. The mirror over the dresser falls and shatters. A scream erupts out of me as a man in black leather and heavy boots crosses the room in two long strides. The shadows and light dance over his handsome face that’s twisted in rage.

Brett jumps to his feet. “Jesus Christ—”