He bends his face and presses a kiss on my shoulder. I flinch, terror shooting me straight in the chest. What if I was wrong? What if this whole situation turned south? What if he and Trey and Vincent pinned me down and raped me?
“You know, Ophelia,” Emmett says into my ear. His voice sounds tired. “You’ll be a good little pet.” He kisses my ear, and I try to think of anything, anything but the absolute need to turn around and punch him. “And I always treat my pets very, very nicely. I give them what their body wants. I never ever take.”
His next words send a true shock of fear through my spine.
“And soon, pet, you’ll be begging for me.”
3
Chapter Three
David Granger must delight in his athletes’ pain.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve been so exhausted. Sprint drills push me to the brink. 300 meters at 95% effort. 100 meters at 100%. Rinse and repeat, until I’m dripping with sweat and the lactic acid build-up in my legs is killing me.
David Granger isn’t present – he stopped by for a quick hello at the beginning of the session. He reiterated that these pre-season workouts were on our honor. He’d open up the track for us every day after school ended at 3:15 pm and expected us to be done by 5pm. We could only log so many hours.
I’m by far the best in-shape of the girls – even the girls who were nationally ranked last season took a couple months off. I didn’t. But, nearing the end of workout, the assistant extends our rest period by a minute, and I find myself greedily sucking in lungfuls of air.
Sweat slicks my skin when the assistant walks away, signaling the end of our group session. The assistant really isn’t an assistant but a fellow WJ Prep student, “suggested” by David to hold a timer and stand in the field. A couple of the long jumpers and high jumpers meander to their pits – they’ll practice their form.
The track is fabulous. State-of-the-art, actually. Almost as good as Arcadia. And much better than the weather-beaten, warped track at my old high school.
I grab my bag and chuck my spikes into it. I haven’t really gotten to know my teammates yet, but I figure that as we suffer together, we’ll bond. It always happens. Pain does that to groups.
I don’t dally – I’m hungry and tired, and I want to shower. I head to the parking lot, but my eyes pick out three figures hanging around a car parked next to mine. Anxiety knots my stomach – it’s them.
I won’t talk to them. I want to run to my car, but my legs are too exhausted to even walk. I can barely hold myself upright as I beeline straight to the driver’s door. I see Emmett move smoothly out of the corner of my eye.
He slides in front of the door just before I get there. My jaw ticks with irritation. I just want to go home.
“What do you want?” I grind out, staring at his chest. I will not give him the satisfaction of my gaze – I don’t want him to see the fear in my eyes.
He must’ve been working out while I was training. He’s changed into a tight muscle shirt that strains against his chest, and I can faintly smell his sweat. There’s a leftover droplet clinging to his Adam’s apple. My fingers itch to wipe it away.
“You’re taking a ride with us,” he says.
“No, I’m not. Please move.”
“Seems like she’s not cooperating,” comes Trey’s voice, winding around the side of my car.
“Ah, I do like the struggles of a woman,” Vincent muses, sliding around the other. “So...appetizing.”
The two guys stand on either side of me, too close for comfort, but I know I can’t outrun them now.
“You’re a sick fuck,” I tell Vincent.
He smiles. “Aren’t we all?”
“So, are you coming?” Emmett asks like I have a choice.
“I’m not getting into a fucking car with you three psychos.” If only my phone wasn’t in my bag, then I could call the police. But I don’t want to alert them. “Never.”
He shrugs, and my blood both chills and heats – it’s a weird combination. I’m both full of fear and hatred, and I don’t know which one will win out.
“Suit yourself.”
Vincent and Trey pounce, and my body gives a half-hearted dodge backward. Steel-like hands grip my arms, and for the second time today I feel my feet leave the ground. I hiss in pain and I know I’ll have bruises tomorrow.