Hating You (Blackthorn Elite 1) - Page 8
Using the same card I used to open the front door downstairs, I place it in the slot beside the doorknob of my dorm and listen as the lock disengages on the first try. The door creaks as I push it open and step across the threshold. Reaching for the light switch, I take another step.
My fingers graze the very edge of the switch, but before I can flip it on, someone grabs me from behind. Everything happens so fast I can barely comprehend what’s going on. Before I can even think of crying out for help, a hand comes slamming down over my mouth. A scream catches in my throat, only to come out as a muffled whimper when I’m shoved against the nearest wall face first. I can’t breathe. I can’t do anything. My attacker kicks the door shut next, ruining any chance of someone seeing us, or me seeing his face.
My eyes are wide open, but with the room draped in complete darkness, I can’t even see a foot in front of me. The smell of whiskey and soap tickles my nostrils as I suck in a precious breath of oxygen. Without warning, I’m gripped by the shoulder, my attacker’s fingers dig into my skin with just enough pressure to cause pain, and I’m flipped around, my back meeting the wall a second later, and the hand is removed from my mouth.
Opening my mouth to speak, I find I can’t form a single word, my tongue heavy in my mouth. My pulse pounds loudly in my ears, banging like a drum.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I just stand there, petrified with fear. My arms hanging down at my sides, useless limbs.
The same fingers from my shoulder, start trailing down between my breasts. What’s going to happen? I’m shaking now, my entire body vibrating.
I can’t just stand here, I have to do something, anything…
“I…” My lips wobble, a sob building in my throat.
“Shut up!” The sound is violent, dark, deep, angry, so angry. His words pulse through me like a second heartbeat, and I don’t understand why I just stand there. Why don’t I try and fight him? With his other hand, he circles my throat, gently squeezing the flesh as if he’s testing its durability. The pressure against my throat makes it hard for me to focus on anything else. Is he going to strangle me? Hurt me? His touch is firm, warm, and I gasp when I feel his nose skim against my cheek.
He inhales through his nose, and it’s almost as if he’s smelling me. He squeezes, and I lift my hands, grabbing at his hand around my throat. There’s no point in fighting him though. Like an annoying fly, he swats them away, and instead squeezes harder, warning me, proving that he holds all the power. Letting my hands fall away, I do my best not to struggle as my lungs burn with the need for air. Slowly, his grip eases, and breathing comes easier, each labored breath making my breasts brush against his solid chest.
Seconds tick by, but I remain still, my body rippling with fear. My throat throbs and my knees threaten to give out on me, but somehow, I still manage to keep myself standing up.
“I’ve been watching you, Willow,” he finally speaks; his tone a little more collected now. “I’ve been watching you since you got to campus. I haven’t seen you in so long. So long, I almost forgot how sweet you smelled.”
Through the fog of fear, I notice that his voice sounds vaguely familiar to me, something about it tugs at my memory, but I can’t place it. Can’t connect a face to the dark sound of his voice.
“Who…” I croak, only to have the word cut off by the tightening of his grip once more.
“I said, shut up!” He growls into my face, his hot breath fanning against my cheeks. He gives me a hard shove against the wall, and my head bounces off of it like a basketball.
“That’s always been your problem. You just couldn’t shut up. You couldn’t keep your nose in your own business. If you had just kept your mouth shut and stopped the lies from pouring out, we wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t be here to make you pay for what you did to my brother.” Like a bucket of cold water raining down on me, I piece the broken puzzle pieces together in my mind.
“P-Parker?” I say his name in a whisper, praying that I’m wrong. Hoping that I’m wrong.
“The one and only.” Even wrapped in the darkness of the room, I still know he’s smiling. I can feel it on my skin. My breathing turns erratic in a second, and the panic bubbles up inside me. How did he find me? How did he know I would be here?
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