“Fuck you.”
“No, Danika, fuck you. Here’s what I have planned for you. We’re going to take a nice long drive out into the desert, about an hour out from the city. No matter how hard you fight it, you’ll be out by then, dead to the world.”
He twisted my left nipple hard, and just kept twisting, no matter how I batted at his hand. “You’ll be so out of it that I can do whatever I want to you, however I want it, and you won’t have any recollection of it come morning. And make no mistake, I have plans for you.”
I could hear the sick smile in his voice as he continued. “First, I’ll strip you naked. You won’t even get to keep your shoes on. All of that will stay in here. Then, I’ll drag you out of the car, push you facedown, ass up onto the hood. I’ll spread you wide and fuck your pussy first, because you know I’m dying to know how that feels. I’ll pull out before I come, because I want to feel your ass too. I’ll fuck that next. I won’t use lube. I don’t mind tearing you up. You won’t feel a thing, but I like that your body will remember me tomorrow.”
“Fucking sicko,” I bit out, my body starting to shake. I thought that might be a good sign. Perhaps the effects of the drug were starting to wear off.
“Whatever. I’ll come in your ass, or maybe on your lower back. I don’t like to plan it out, so that’ll be a surprise. I’ll be sure to leave the mess on you, wherever it is, so you’ll have to clean it up yourself later. You’ll be so confused. Maybe you’ll think it’s from Tristan. Who knows, but one way or another, you’ll have to handle the mess. After I’m done with that, I’ll lay you out on the ground in front of the car, so the headlights shine on you nice and bright.”
He took his hand off me, finally, as he stopped at a red light. I had no idea where we were, but at least we weren’t in the desert yet.
“I’ll look at you, every inch of you. I’ll open your legs and look my fill. I’ll study your body hard, so that, anytime I want, I can close my eyes and remember. That will take some time, but when that’s done, I’ll shove my dick down your throat. I’ll shove it as deep as I can, but I won’t get off like that. You’ll be too out of it to suck me proper, but I want to shove my dirty dick in there either way. After that, who knows? Maybe I’ll titty fuck you, maybe I’ll fuck your pussy again. I’ll see what gets me most excited. One thing is for sure, I’ll have you at my mercy for hours, and you can’t undo the things I’ll put your body through. I’ll shove my dirty dick in every orifice, and you won’t say no.”
“When I’m done, I’ll put you back in your clothes and drop you off somewhere. Maybe the apartment, or maybe I’ll sneak you back into your very own bed. Does it matter? You’re going to wake up tomorrow feeling dirtier than you ever have before, and you won’t remember why, but you’ll be too disgusting for Tristan to ever lay a finger on again, because he was in love with you, and you let his best friend use you like a dog.”
“You aren’t his best friend,” I found the voice to say. “He can’t even stand you anymore.”
That set him off, and he was practically foaming at the mouth as he whirled on me. “Fuck you! That’s your fault!”
I was watching his face when it happened. One second I was at his mercy, and the next, I was at the mercy of fate, as another vehicle crashed into his side of the car.
I remembered spinning and spinning, and when the spinning was over, the pain.
Later I would learn that we’d spun out until my side of the car made solid contact with a telephone pole, caving in my side, though Dean’s half of the car got it far worse.
I was still staring at him, at his crushed, bloody body, his blank, empty eyes, when my side hit.
No one ever had to tell me. I saw Dean die.
I never so much as asked about him after that.
I remember that my head smashed onto the dashboard. I remember the windshield breaking, bits of glass embedding itself into the skin of my face, chest, and arms, but that was but a taste as it was followed almost instantly by a burning pain in my stomach that I’d never forget, as the frame in my hands broke into pieces and stabbed into several vital parts of my belly.
I don’t know to this day if I screamed out loud, but deep down in my soul, in the place inside of me that was bursting to be a mother, that pined for it, that lived and breathed for the day that I could give birth to my own child, my own flesh and blood, that part of me screamed, “Nooooo!”
It was quite possible that, somewhere deep down, I never stopped screaming it.
That pain was profound and unforgettable, but the agony of my leg being crushed was what finally, blessedly, made me black out.
When I woke again in the hospital, recovering from multiple surgeries, I didn’t have to ask.
I knew.
I’d lost everything in that car.
Only, even I didn’t know what all that loss entailed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
TRISTAN
I woke with a start. My head was killing me, bile rising in my throat before I’d even opened my eyes.
I kept those eyes closed for a moment longer, my hands reaching out to feel the naked body beside mine, and then, with something akin to horror, another one, on my other side.
I recoiled when my hand skimmed over one plump breast.
I stumbled out of bed, barely making it to the bathroom before I began to wretch.
I emptied the contents of my stomach in huge, racking heaves.
I had no idea who it was in my bed, but I knew who it wasn’t, and that was enough to scare me sober.
She can’t find out, she can’t find out, she can’t find out, ran like a mantra in my head. We’d broken up, and she’d stopped taking my calls over a month ago, had in fact divorced me without so much as a phone call, but still, I’d been faithful before this.
I knew that this was unforgivable. It felt unforgivable.
I was in the shower, washing away the night’s sins, when pieces of the evening started coming back to me.
I remembered the fucking speedballs, the shots, and a whole lot of fuzzy details in between. The fucking morbid tribute to my brother, remembered not caring what happened to me, maybe even hoping that something bad would. Maybe I’d wind up in the hospital, and she’d feel so bad for me she’d take me back, I remembered thinking.
She’d been at the apartment, I recalled, in horror. Said she’d needed to tell me something, but I couldn’t remember what it had been. Had she told me and I’d forgotten, or had she not told me at all?
Of all of the nights for her to come and see me…things couldn’t have turned out worse.