I try to school my expression, try to keep my eyes from widening but I know I fail when his grip on my chin tightens.
“What in the fuck do you have going on with him?” he asks me.
My head whirls with something to say, some sort of lie. I don’t know how he found out or what exactly it is that he thinks he knows though, and that’s the problem. If I say something, I could potentially be digging myself a bigger hole.
Does he know about the coroner's report, the picture?
I’d tucked them under my mattress, figuring it was my best hiding spot.
Had he found them?
“Winter Chastine, don’t fucking play with me. Enzo saw you talking to him at the club.” He jerks my chin to the side and I swear I hear a bone pop in the back of my neck. He pushes me onto my stomach, the hot asphalt doing even more damage to my skin. “tell me what the fuck you were doing with that piece of shit.”
Maybe he doesn’t know anything then, maybe Enzo only saw me with him and now they want me to squeal like a pig.
A weight presses down into the center of my back, his foot, keeping me pressed down to the the ground.
I press my lips shut tightly. I can’t accidentally reveal the truth thinking he already knows it.
No, instead, I’m going to have to ride through this, finally prove for once and all that I’m not a doll he can break.
The pressure on my back increases until the pain is almost too much to bear. It feels like he’s trying to crush my spine.
My legs grind into the concrete.
“You want to be a stubborn little bitch?” he hisses. The weight thankfully leaves my back but then his hands are on me, pulling at the waistbands of my shorts, pulling them and my underwear down in one swoop. He leaves them hanging around my knees.
“Winter,” he breathes out the one word warning as I close my eyes tightly.
I tuck my hands under my cheek, trying to protect my face from scraping against the concrete. It’s the only thing that seems to be unharmed at this point and I’d like to protect it.
“Winter, last chance,” he mutters. The sound of his zipper being pulled down is the last warning bell that he’s going to give me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I seal my fate with seven little words, and I don’t regret it.
I didn’t come this far just to give up because of Giovanni Costa. I’m going to get the full truth and then I’m going to dance on his fucking grave, remembering this day and everything else that he’s put me through.
“So be it then,” he says and in the same breath he slams his dick right into me.
I scream, squeezing my legs and trying to buck him off of me. It’s a useless fight, I know this already in my head, but my body doesn’t understand. It wants to get away from this pain.
“Shut the fuck up, this is what you wanted,” Giovanni says a moment before his fingers slide into my mouth.
I bite down on his hand as hard as I can but it only makes him slam into me harder. I can taste his blood in my mouth but still he continues to punish me.
My body jostles against the ground and with every little scrape and burn, I’m thankful that I’m at least still wearing a top to protect me from the entire front of my body feeling like it’s been through a grader.
Giovanni’s fingers move over my tongue and when I try to bite back down on him, his opposite hand moves around to grip my jaw. His fingers shove into the back of my throat and I gag.
“Don’t make a sound now when I gave you the opportunity to sing freely earlier,” he taunts. I think my vagina has practically gone numb until one particularly hard thrust has me whimpering.
Both of his hands move until two fingers are hooked just inside of my mouth, pulling back and stretching the skin. I can’t close my mouth even if I wanted to and the way that he’s holding me just barely has my chin off of the ground.
He continues to ride me hard, and I just try to live through it.
I wince when his last thrust sends my body moving even harder against the concrete. He pulls out of me, turning me onto my back. He’s standing over me, his hard cock in his hand, and then ropes of white come are painting my face.
He never takes his gaze off of me the entire time, not even when he pulls his pants back up, zipping me.