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17

Bianaca

“Dylan,” I gasped, staring up at the man—no, themonsterwho’d tormented me for years. He didn’t look like the slug-like creature who’d attacked me in the gym. Instead, he appeared relatively…normal. Well, as normal as a beast like him could ever be. His blue eyes were as dark as onyx in the dim glow emitting from his flashlight. Standing at six feet and four inches, he towered over me, a looming, malevolent presence that I couldn’t hope to escape.

My first thought was that he was a part of Purgatory. Another challenge I had to conquer, perhaps? But the longer I stared, the more I began to realize…he was truly here. He wasn’t just some hideous, gruesome monster I had to fight in order to survive. He wasn’t a figment of my imagination or a nightmare I would wake up from. Somehow, someway, Dylan Holebroke had found me.

“Surprised to see me?” He smiled cruelly, flashing blindingly white teeth, as, just on the outskirts of his flashlight’s beam, a monster roared. All around me, darkness pressed in, thick and cloying. I couldn’t even see my hand where it hovered just at the edges of the pale, golden light.

And I definitely couldn’t see Tanner.

My heart nosedived into my stomach as I worked to moderate my breathing.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

“How did you…?” I trailed off as my heart beat rapidly inside of my chest.

Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom.

“Did you really think you could leave without me?” When he took a step closer, appearing ten feet tall from where I still lay on the ground, I noted that his face was different than usual. It was still artfully handsome and chiseled, with angelic features that belied the wicked soul resting just underneath the surface, but there was a paleness to his cheeks I’d never seen before. A thinness to his body that hinted at his weariness. The whites of his eyes appeared jaundiced, as if he was sick.

But that smile…

That smile was still the same damn smile, cutting me up like a knife.

“You followed us,” I mused, and I couldn’t help but recall the times I’d felt like I was being watched. I’d believed it was merely a product of being in a place so terrifying, but now…now, I wasn’t so sure.

Was it Dylan this entire time? His penetrating glare stabbing at my scalp, flaying me open and grinning wickedly while I bled?

“I knew there was something suspicious going on.” His voice was accusatory. “You were actually going to leave me behind.” Something akin to wonder flashed in his blue eyes, as if he was honestly shocked that I’d ever considered leaving him.

Was he completely delusional? Did that pea-sized brain of his forget about all of the awful things he did to me? The way he’d tortured me? Raped me? Broken me?

Another monster cawed menacingly, the noise sounding from directly beside my head, and my chest constricted.

“How long have you been following us?” I whispered.

His grin sharpened, and his tongue snaked out to lick his upper lip. “I’ve always been there, little sister.” He lowered to a crouch, clasping his hands together between his legs. “In the gym. In the store. Here. You can’t get rid of me.” Before I could move, could run, could scream, his hand clasped down on my thigh. Tightening. Bruising. Demanding.

“No!” I screamed, twisting and wiggling as his entire body fell on top of mine, the flashlight rolling to the side. Tears burned where they touched my cheeks as he planted his lips on mine, his tongue plundering my mouth. His other hand moved to cup my breast, squeezing to the point of pain. I twisted my head to the side, wrenching my lips free of his, but that only made him laugh.

“Now, now, little sister. That’s not nice.” He fumbled with the buttons of my pants, and I kicked at him, my foot landing squarely in his shin. He hissed out in pain, his teeth gritting together, but did not stop his attempt to remove my pants.

“I HATE YOU!” I screamed in his face, my heart thrashing wildly.

He paused in his movements, lifting his head up to meet my gaze. His soulless blue eyes, momentarily appearing black, fixed on my own, his expression indecipherable. After a moment, he smiled, all sharp edges and keen blades. His hands left the buttons on my pants to push up my shirt, resting on the bare skin of my stomach. My entire body trembled in revulsion and fear—so much fucking fear, I thought I would drown in it. I wanted to retreat into a place where these emotions couldn’t consume me, where they wouldn’t wash over me in an angry torrent of water, but my brain refused to cooperate.

It chose to remain present, even when everything inside of me wanted to run.

“You don’t mean that.” He shook his head once in denial, his hands turning into claws on my stomach.

“You’re fucking insane!” I seethed.

His palm connected with my cheek, and pain exploded. I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste blood as a tiny whimper threatened to escape.