“Hazel?”
We both turn to Evan, the guy in my physics class who invited me to the party. “Hey, Evan!” Jumping into his arms, I smack my lips against his cheek in a kiss. “Thanks for the invite.” Clearly, the tequila is doing its job of loosening me up.
“Glad you came. You look super-hot,” he praises. It could be the shots, but his compliment sends a rush of heat to my cheeks. “Hey, wanna go do a shot or something?”
I look at Violet to see if she cares. Smiling, she nods for me to go. I mouth, “Thank you,” and bring my attention back to Evan. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go!” He grabs my hand, and I’m on cloud nine as he escorts us deeper into the kitchen. We pass a bunch of people he knows, slapping backs and high fiving. He stops to take a shot from a buddy, then continues walking us farther into the kitchen.
“Wow, you already know a lot of people,” I say, trying to make conversation while he pours two shots of flavored vodka.
He hands me a cup. “Yeah. Technically, I’m a sophomore. I failed physics last year so gotta retake it. Cheers.” We knock cups, and I take down the shot. “Have I mentioned how super-hot you look in that dress?”
I smile. “You may have once or twice.”
I twist my hips back and forth in a flirtatious manner, and he captures my waist, pulling me into him. “Well, you do, babe.” He catches me off guard when he dips his head, capturing my lips. I’m not used to someone being so forward. It takes me a second to start kissing him back. He parts my lips and delves his tongue in, nearly thrusting it down my throat. I try to pull back a bit, but his grip on my waist doesn’t allow for it. Before I have to use force and knee him in the balls, he lets me go.
“Hey.” I step back, touching my bruising lips.
“Shit, sorry…I thought… Did I just misread that?” My put-off expression answers for me. “Shit. I’m so sorry. Hey, let me get you another shot. We can talk. Dance if you want to. I thought you were into me. I thought—”
“Hey, it’s fine. It’s just…you surprised me, that’s all.”
His smile returns as he replaces his hands on my waist. He senses the vibrations of my phone in my pocket and reaches for it, looking at the screen. “Gabriel’s calling. Should I be worried about competition?”
I snatch the phone out of his hand. What the hell? Why is he calling me? Now? It’s been too long. Too much time has passed. If he even tries to apologize, I won’t hear it. If he tells me what we shared was wrong, I’ll…
“I’m sorry I have to take this. Be right back?” I force a smile and rush through the back door. Finding a quieter spot, I answer.
“What do you want?” I snap, not holding back the anger in my voice.
“Ah…a week at college, and she grows claws.”
“I’m hanging up,” I threaten, but it’s just that. I stay on the line, listening to him breathe and waiting, hoping he explains. Please tell me. Don’t make me beg for it.
“I thought you were hanging up?”
“Why did you leave like that? Why’d you do that to me?” Even I can hear the hurt in my tone. I’m angry. Humiliated. The memory of how he left me…
“You weren’t ready,” he replies.
“I wasn’t ready? How was I not ready? Armageddon could have been happening around us, and I wouldn’t have cared. I was ready.”
“You’re not ready, little bird—”
“Oh, stop calling me that childish nickname. I’m not a kid anymore.”
“What would you like me to call you then, pet? Are you still my pet, Hazel?”
God, say no. Tell him he’s fucked up, and you want nothing to do with him. Lie to him and tell him your body isn’t buzzing with anticipation to become his.
“No. I’m not.” The lie burns up my throat.
“Lies will cost you, pet.”
A sharp sound slices through the phone. But it’s a woman’s moan I hear after that sickens me.
“What was that?” I dare ask.
“That was the sound of my whip, pet.”
“And the other?”
“That was the sound of a willing woman, ready for me to take whatever she offers.”
My stomach turns at the image of him with another woman. “You son of a bitch.”
Another crack. Another moan.
“A lash for every lie, little bird.” He accentuates the nickname to prove his point.
“Why are you doing this? You know I want you. Why are you doing this to me?”
“Tell me who you belong to.”
“I belong to no one,” I snap back.
Another crack. Another moan.
“Stop!” I scream. “Why are you doing this?”
“Tell me who you belong to, and I will stop. I will stop inflicting the pain meant for you on this beautiful woman. Tell me who you belong to, and I’ll refrain from fucking her instead of you. Tell me—”