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Ever.

I gulped, feeling Damon’s arms tighten around me. “You’re not him.”

“Him who?”

“L—Let me go,” I stammered but didn’t have time to scream.

He whipped us around, carrying me away, and I pushed at his body to get away.

A door opened, then closed, and I was forced back into the room, my combat boot hitting something on wheels. A bucket, I think. We must be in a closet.

My mind raced. The bucket would have a mop. That was a weapon.

“You did this?” I asked, realization finally hitting me. The alarm. He and I alone in the school. Did he see Rika leave me alone in the library?

“What do you want?” I yelled and then shouted at the top of my lungs, “Help!” I sucked in another breath. “Help!”

His hand found my throat, and I was pinned to the wall. I grabbed his wrist, fighting to pull it off.

“What do you want?” I struggled to speak, rage coursing through my veins.

His body came in close as he spoke down to me. “Are you scared?”

I shifted on my feet, struggling with his hand on my neck. “No,” I gritted out.

“Liar.”

“Fuck you!” I fired back. “Let me out!”

I kicked at his leg, but he didn’t budge. I kicked him again, harder, and twisted my body out of his grasp, finally feeling him lose his hold. I ran for it, but he grabbed hold of my necktie and yanked me back to him.

My body slammed into his. “Let me out!” I screamed again. “My sister is ready for you. Always ready for you. Why don’t you bring her in here?”

He picked me up again, this time wrapping his arms around me like a steel band, my arms pinned to my body under his tight hold.

“Why bother with her when there’s you?” he taunted. “I like you.”

I shook my head at him. He was horrible. And disgusting and sick, and I hated that I had his attention. I wished he’d never laid eyes on me. Was this it then? Was he going to hurt me again? It wouldn’t be like last time. I was old enough to know how men hurt women now.

“You know, a lot of girls would love to be in your position right now,” he told me.

“Yeah, I’m guessing you didn’t almost kill them once upon a time.”

“Do you want me to apologize?”

I hesitated, because his tone actually gave the impression he would apologize if I asked him to. “No,” I finally answered.

“Why?”

“Because I won’t forgive you anyway,” I said.

No need to waste your time.

He held me, his chest moving with mine, and I could feel his eyes on my face. He didn’t speak for several seconds.

When he did, it sounded almost sad. “Winter…”

But whatever he wanted to say, he didn’t finish, and I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to spend another six years recovering from anything he did to me. Another scratch, and I’d kill him to make sure he never touched me again.


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance