“That’s a good idea,” Ginger’s date said, standing with the door open on the driver’s side of the car. “Shouldn’t be out here alone. You can never be too careful.”
I wasn’t alone. There was a whole houseful of people behind me and an escort on the way. But if Theo felt like a good scout to wait with me and if it gave Ginger and her guy an easy way to get rid of their third wheel, so be it. “Right. That’s true. Thanks.”
If Theo thought I was going to be chatty, though, he had another think coming.
The car had just barely taken off when I realized it wasn’t chatting that Theo was interested in.
“Sabrina,” he said, inching closer to me. Closer than I liked. “You’re a lot prettier than you let on. I’m sure you get told that all the time, don’t you?”
“No. I don’t. Thank you, but.” I pulled on the back of my ponytail and turned my head from him to look at the curb. The problem with the escort service was it was understaffed. Especially on Saturday nights. There was no telling how long it would be before it would get here. Maybe I should have waited inside after all. It wasn’t too late to change my mind.
“Why do you hide all that pretty?” Theo reached his hand out and tugged at the belt of my coat, pulling it open.
“Excuse me?” I turned my head sharply toward him and yanked my coat back from him, but he wouldn’t let go.
“I bet you have a gorgeous body too.”
“Theo, thank you, but I’m uncomfortable with what you’re saying. And what you’re doing.” He was drunk. That was all. He was just being playful.
Except he wasn’t just being playful. He stepped closer. “I don’t really care if you’re comfortable with what I’m saying, Sabrina.” His breath smelled faintly of beer, but his words weren’t slurred. He was in complete control of himself. He knew what he was doing.
I tried to step around him, but he put a hand up on the wall behind me. I had nowhere else to go. I’d made a mistake when I’d ducked into the shadows earlier because now I was in the corner where the stairs met the house, and Theo was blocking my escape.
“Theo. Please.” I swallowed the ball at the back of my throat.
He sniffed, the second time I’d heard him, either from the cold or from snorting, I wasn’t sure. “Please what?” he said as if he really didn’t have any idea what I was asking.
“Let me go.”
He feigned consideration then shook his head as if he was sorry he couldn’t comply with my request. “Look.” He pulled his thumb along my bottom lip, which quivered under his unwanted touch. “I don’t want to draw this out, so here’s how this is going to go—I’m going to fuck you. You can either make it easy or you can make it hard. Either way, we both know who has the power here.”
I didn’t even think. I just opened my mouth and started to scream. “Hel—!”
Theo was ready for me. He clamped his hand over my mouth—cutting me off before I could get any real sound out—and grinned from ear to ear. “I was actually hoping you’d choose the hard way. I like it when girls struggle. It will be better for you too. I’ll come a whole lot faster.”
“Fuck you,” I said, muffled against his claw. And though I hated giving him what he wanted, though he was at least six feet tall and probably two hundred pounds, though I had no chance in hell at getting away from him, I fought back. I pushed against his shoulders with all my strength. I kneed at him. I wriggled. I cried.
Theo only chuckled. “Just like that, baby.” He pressed his body in tighter against me, using his thighs to keep my lower body from squirming. With his free hand, he undid his pants and drew out his cock.
I started crying harder. I’d seen a penis before. I was a virgin but not a prude. I’d had a high school boyfriend. I’d given him blowjobs and handjobs and he had done enough to me in return that I wasn’t even sure my hymen was still intact.
But looking at Theo’s cock made me want to throw up. It had to be the ugliest thing I’d ever seen. Everything about it was disgusting. I didn’t want it anywhere near me. Definitely didn’t want it inside me.
I had to get out of this.
I brought my hands up to his face and scratched as hard as I could. Scratched until I drew blood.
Theo cursed and let go of his dick so he could wrestle my hands down instead. When he had them pinned tightly under my breasts, he moved his other hand so it covered my nose as well as my mouth.
“I can keep my hand like this, and in a couple minutes you won’t have the energy to fight me. Would you prefer that, Sabrina? Is that the way you want to do this?” He locked his eyes right on mine, got right up in my face so he was sure I understood what he was saying. So he was sure that I understood that he was giving me the choice of whether or not he let me breathe.
I shook my head.
“So you’ll be good?”
Did I have a choice? My lungs were already aching. My eyes were already seeing spots. My brain was already panicking with the impulse to take a breath.
I nodded.
He didn’t move his hand.
I nodded harder. I cried harder. Desperate.
Finally he moved his hand down ever so slightly so that my nostrils were uncovered. I inhaled cold air in long, sputtering draws, taking as much as I could get in through my nose. My chest rose and fell with each gasping breath.
Slowly, Theo let go of my hands, giving me another warning look as he resumed stroking his cock.
I got it. He had the power. I did not. Lesson learned. Lesson fucking learned.
I still struggled. I couldn’t help it. It was like a reflex. Like that one time I’d gotten a pedicure and couldn’t help kicking the technician because I was so ticklish. I willed myself to cooperate with Theo, and still my body fought him.
“Undo your jeans,” he ordered after he’d jacked himself for a minute, his voice tight.
No. Please no, don’t make me. I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
He inched the hand over my mouth slightly toward my nose—threatening—but I was already undoing the snap. Unzipping the zipper.
Tears leaked down my cheeks as Theo shooed my hands away. He licked two of his fingers and said, “Don’t want to go in dry,” then he stuck them inside my panties, searching for the hole he wanted.
A sob bubbled deep in my chest, and I closed my eyes, wishing I could be someplace else, surrendering to a deluge of mismatched thoughts that went on and on randomly. A panicked stream of consciousness. I’m not here. I’m somewhere else. I’m on the beach. I’m in the Riviera Maya. I can’t tell my father. He’ll be so mad. I haven’t shaved. Can you get frostbite in October? That redhead had nice breasts. What was her name again? It’s just my virginity. It’s just sex. Will I tell my sister? This is so embarrassing. I should have waited inside. It’s so cold. Who was the blonde in that picture in Donovan’s room? That last trip we took with Mom to the Riviera Maya was in October. It will be five years this December. What if he hurts me? What if he really hurts me? I hope no one comes out and sees this. I can’t tell my sister. I can’t tell anyone. Nichelle. I keep forgetting her name on purpose. I miss my mom. Please, God, let someone come and stop this!
I was still aware of everything around me. Hyperaware. I knew I’d forever be able to identify the smell of Theo’s shampoo. Of his cologne. His watch ticked in the quiet, each second sounding after an eternity while his fingernails scraped along the walls of my insides.
But I must not have been as attentive as I thought I was, because I never heard the door open or the footsteps on the stairs. I didn’t see Donovan grab Theo by the back of his jacket and pull him off of me, but I did see him punch Theo squarely in the nose, heard it crack, saw the blood gush.
“What the fuck?” Theo howled, one hand holding his nose while he quickly pulled up his pants with the other. “Jesus, Kincaid!”
My knees nearly buckled in relief. I was free of Theo, free of his sweaty hand and his oppressive body. I scooted away from the corner I’d been trapped in, afraid I might somehow end
up imprisoned there again, and fastened my pants as fast as I could. Shock halted my tears, and though I felt steady, I could see my hands were shaking.
Theo, seeming to see that he might be in trouble, took a step away, but Donovan grabbed his arm and yanked him back. “Did I say we were finished?” Theo had Donovan beat on size, yet Donovan didn’t seem concerned at all.
I bit my trembling lip and hugged my arms around myself. Donovan might not be scared, but I was. Too scared to leave to get help. Too numb.
“Hey, I don’t know what you think happened—” Theo started to say, but Donovan cut him off.
“You don’t get to talk.” Donovan yanked Theo’s arm again. Hard. “It’s up to Sabrina whether she presses charges. Sabrina?” Donovan looked at me, his green eyes searing into mine, searching as though he was afraid I was lost.
Maybe I was lost.
I blinked. He’d asked me a question. “What was that?” I managed.
“Do you want to press charges against Theo?”
The reality of the situation came crashing back on me full force. I’d been assaulted. That asshole had had his fingers inside me. If Donovan hadn’t shown up, he’d have raped me by now.
I choked back bile.
Of course I wanted to press charges. Except…
I thought about it again. Went quickly through the scenario—white rich boy accused of assault by a nobody girl. Alcohol involved. No actual rape. Scholarship at risk. There was no way this would end in my favor, as much as I wanted it to. As much as the world needed brave warriors for violated women, it wasn’t what I wanted for myself. It shamed me, but it was my truth.
“It’s fine,” I mumbled, a tear slipping down my cheek. I just wanted to forget all of this. Go home, take a bath. Pretend none of this ever happened.
“What?” Donovan asked, forcing me to repeat myself.
“I’m not pressing charges,” I said louder. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t even know who I was apologizing to. Myself. Every victim of assault who’d never gotten a chance to face her attacker in cuffs.
“Fine.” Donovan let go of Theo’s arms, but when Theo turned around to face him Donovan kneed him in the nuts. “You deserve worse, you asshole. Unfortunately, the U.S. legal system probably wouldn’t give you much more than that. Penalties at The Keep are more severe though. You’re not welcome here. You won’t do business with our families. Your investments at King-Kincaid will be canceled. Now get the fuck off my property. You’re bleeding all over my Ferragamos.”
Theo wiped the blood dripping from his nose with the back of his hand and leaned a shoulder forward as though he were going to challenge Donovan. Then he seemed to think better of it and took a step backward. “All right. All right, Kincaid. Didn’t realize you were saving this one for yourself.”
“Get the fuck out of here.” Donovan never raised his voice, but his tone and his eyes and his posture said it all. Theo took off.
I was still shaking, still crying. I swiped the tears from my eyes and started to turn to thank Donovan when a car pulled up to the curb. I turned my attention there instead. It was my escort. What timing.
When I shifted back to Donovan, he was already climbing back up the stairs toward the front door without a goodbye. Without even an, “Are you all right?”
I cried the entire drive home. Cried for an hour in the shower. It wasn’t until hours later when I was curled up in the fetal position in my bed that I realized that Donovan’s Ferragamos were boots. And they’d been tied. He’d seen my situation through his bedroom window then taken the time to lace them up before coming downstairs to rescue me.
Chapter 3
I didn’t go to classes on Monday.
I said I had the flu and stayed in bed, facing the wall. Sheri brought me microwaveable soup and crackers from the Shell station, and I told her I was only crying because my head hurt.
Tuesday, I managed to pull myself together. Nothing happened, really. Theo hadn’t actually raped me. I was the same girl I’d been before. It wasn’t like I had to see him again either. I didn’t have any classes with him. He was an upperclassman, and we didn’t run in the same circles. And no one else knew what had happened—I’d decided not to tell a soul—so all I had to do was smile and pretend nothing had happened. Easy peasy.
If it wasn’t exactly easy, it was at least doable. As doable as it had been when my mother had died five years ago and kids at school had pointed and whispered behind my back. I’d put on a happy face and acted as if it meant nothing. As if it didn’t hurt. That experience with tragedy had taught me an important lesson in how to deal with hard things—you smile, you nod, you go on.
That’s how I’d planned to handle Intro to Business Ethics too. I knew it would be different because of Donovan, because he knew. But it wasn’t like he was going to bring it up in class. We’d never even talked before that night at The Keep. He was my teacher. I looked to him to learn things. He looked at me as another paper to grade. I didn’t think it would be a problem.
I walked in to the lecture hall, early as usual, and headed for a seat in the front row. Normally I came in from the door below, but this time I came in from above since I’d stopped for a bottle of water before class and taken a different route to get there. As I walked down the stairs, I glanced down at the teacher’s desk, and maybe I was a little nervous about seeing Donovan because I silently hoped it was Velasquez teaching today.
It wasn’t.
Donovan sat at his laptop, wearing his grey trousers and a dress shirt and tie under his black pullover, and as though he could sense me, he looked up just then and caught my gaze.
I froze, unable to take another step.
My knees swayed. Sweat beaded on my brow. It was like he was a trigger. My entire pretense fell apart, and I was transported back to that night. I swore I could feel Theo’s palm across my mouth. The sound of his nose cracking echoed in my ears. Emotion overwhelmed me.
But it wasn’t just terror and humiliation that I felt. There was something even worse underneath it all. Something ugly but undeniable.
As soon as I recognized it, I flushed with panic. Donovan had to notice because his eyes narrowed and his chin tilted up with curiosity. I wanted to turn around and run out of the classroom, but that would only direct attention to myself. Besides, my legs felt like jelly at the moment, so I slipped into a seat in the row I was already standing in and ducked my head, pretending not to realize that my behavior might be odd or that he was still watching me.
Actually, I wasn’t pretending—I didn’t care if he was watching me. I didn’t even care about keeping an eye out for Weston like I usually did. I had to figure out what the ever-living fuck was wrong with me. My heart was pounding, my clothes felt too hot, I felt restless and unsettled.
But it wasn’t thoughts of Theo that had me riled up. It was Donovan. From the way he’d taunted me in his bedroom to the way he’d commanded the situation with Theo to the way his jaw set when he studied me with those intense eyes.
God, those eyes…
I snuck a glance at him as he stood up to start the lecture, and another tumultuous, confusing wave rolled through my body. I shifted in my seat, but it didn’t help. When he started talking it was even worse. His voice sent shivers down my spine. I drank in every word, yet sentences went by without me comprehending a single phrase.
I was seriously fucked.
Whatever was happening, there had to be a perfectly natural explanation. Like, I was having a psychotic break. My mind was trying to change the terrible thing that happened to me by associating Donovan and pleasant feelings with that night instead of Theo and those awful ones.
Except these feelings weren’t exactly pleasant. They were sick and tormenting. They were fierce and turbulent. I had to cross my legs and uncross them at least a hundred times just to make it through his lecture, the whole time hating myself because I couldn’t settle down.
It all made me mad. And uncomfortable. And then mad again. For so many reason
s. I was mad at Donovan anyway because of everything he knew. Not just about what Theo did, but those other things that he’d said about me in his room. Those things he’d perceived about me so easily. I didn’t like him knowing me like that. It felt invasive. Like a violation.
And I was mad about how he’d taken his time in rescuing me.
And how he didn’t even seem to really be sure he was glad he saved me at all.
Mostly I was mad about the thoughts I was having about him, even though they weren’t really his fault. Yet, if he hadn’t been so fucked up with the way he’d gone about dealing with that night, I wouldn’t probably be so fucked up with the way I felt about it now. So maybe it was fine to blame him for that too.
Whoever was to blame, it didn’t matter. I was the one who had to deal with it. It wasn’t like he cared about how I’d come out of the nightmare. I’d figure it out, somehow.
After what felt like the longest hour of my life, the class was finally over. I took off the second we were excused, careful to dodge Donovan by going up the stairs again instead of exiting below. I’d planned to grab lunch with a friend, but I had to run by my apartment first to change my panties before my next class. That’s how bad it was.
Once I was out of Donovan’s presence, I was sure the whole strange thing would blow over. I thought about Weston to clear my head. He was the guy I’d been into. He was the one that gave me butterflies to think about. Still. Even now.
The rest of the day, however, I found my mind wandering back to Donovan now and then, found myself imagining different endings to the night at The Keep. What if he had asked me back inside after Theo had left? What if I hadn’t left his room in the first place?
I was ashamed of myself.
But it’s where I got the idea of how to deal with the bad dreams I’d had ever since it had happened. That night when I woke up in a cold sweat with the ghost of Theo’s touch on my skin, I slid my hand beneath my panties and erased the memory with thoughts of Donovan.
“Did he hurt you too badly?” he asked, cupping my cheek as Theo hobbled down the street. His hand was warm against my skin, tentative without being gentle.
Need you Now (Top Shelf Romance Book 2) Page 3