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His brown eyes search my face. Amusement curls his mouth.

“You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?” He shoves to his feet. “You think I’m going to take you back so your knights in shining armor can save you. No one’s going to save you, Everly. No one gives a shit about you. Not my dad. Not Weaver. Not even Lauren. You could vanish and they’d move on. The whole town would. I was the only one who ever noticed you. I was there when everyone else was tired of your whining and crying over your parents. Yet, instead of being grateful, you betrayed me. You tried to ruin my life. And why? What did you get out of it?”

I don’t tell him the satisfaction of watching him lose everything. I can’t let him get angry. I need him calm and thinking he’s won.

“I’m sorry,” I lie. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

His smile deepens. His head cocks to the side and he lightly strokes my hair back from my face.

“You’ll do anything I want to make me happy, right?”

I nod obediently.

His smile vanishes. He pushes up and starts towards the truck. I think for a moment he’s going to just leave me here and let me find my own way out — which is fine. But he stops and turns back.

“Take your clothes off.”

I blink. “What?”

He folds his arms over his chest. “Take your clothes off. You said you want to make me happy. I want to fuck you. I want to see what made you so special that my dad turned his back on his own son. I want to see if your pussy really is magical.”

I want to crawl away but with my stomach bruised and my arm throbbing, I know I won’t get far before he has me and it’ll make things worse.

“I’m hurt. I can’t—”

“Take them off or I will.”

Every breath tears from my sore lungs. My heart rattles in my chest as I fight not to make any sudden movements.

Not a problem when I can’t move. When I’m frozen.

I try to swallow, but I have no spit.

“Fine.”

He’s on me before I can process. His hands are twisted in my blouse. The buttons snap. The fabric tears.

“Stop! Bron, stop it.” My single-handed attempts do nothing as I’m forcibly wrenched to the ground.

His hips shove between mine. His hot breath turns the skin of my neck sticky as he buries his face.

“Nothing about you appeals to me,” he drawls into my pulse. “I fucking hate you. Touching you turns my stomach.” His hand wedges between our bodies and fights with the snaps on my shorts. “Little Miss goody good gets everything handed to her.People whisper how great and perfect she is. If only they knew what a sick, twisted slut you actually are.”

“Bron, stop!”

No amount of shoving with my good arm is doing a thing. He’s too big, too strong. He has me pinned.

“Let’s see how long it takes you to start crying. Your friend only lasted five minutes before I had her screaming and begging. I bet you can outlast her.” He thrusts and grinds with his hips. The hard bulge rocking against my core has my stomach roiling and a sob escaping. “I took that bitch for five hours. Over and over until she crawled to the door. I’m going to make you crawl back to the road.”

His words carve fear through me that amplify with the hands tugging and yanking, clawing at my shorts. I somehow find my voice and I scream.

I kick and flail. Pain in my shoulder, absent as adrenaline rushes through me in hot, panicked waves. My claws catch the side of his face. Nails sink into skin and I drag from temple to jaw.

Bron howls. His massive body jerks back and I scramble backwards, cutting palms on rocks in my attempt to escape.

“Stupid bitch!” Dark eyes the very pits of hell pierce through me from a face now oozing droplets of blood. “To think I was goingto go easy on you.”

He lunges and my knee instinctively jerks. My heel catches his shoulder. A futile effort when it does nothing, except get captured in his grip. He uses it to drag me back the pitiful steps I’d managed to put between us.