Page 70 of Scream Little Sister

I excuse myself from the table and bring my empty champagne glass with me for a refill. A happy hum spills out of me as I grab the bottle from the refrigerator. I pop the cork and pour the fizzling alcohol into my glass.

Justin’s voice carries from the other room, killing my short-lived buzz. “If it’s all right, Mr. Richmond, I’d like to stay the night. I had a little too much to drink, and I don’t think I can drive.”

“Of course. I’m sure you’d like some alone time with your fiancée, too,” Dad says, loud enough for me to hear. “I’m positive Madison has something important to tell you concerning what happened yesterday.”

I scowl at my glass and squeeze my eyes shut as I tip my head back. I finish the champagne in three gulps. It burns all the way down and settles in my churning stomach.

The memory of Justin’s touch raises goosebumps on my arms, bringing helpless rage with it as it lingers.

I pour another glass so I can numb the sensations.

Justin asking to stay the night is his way of slithering into my bed. How can my dad be okay with Justin staying the night here, when he’s made it clear we aren’t allowed to do anything until we’re married?

And there is no way in hell I’ll apologize to Justin, if that’s what he’s implying.

Footsteps approach from behind, and a hand slides over my shoulders, then settles on my lower back.

“You’ve had enough to drink,” Justin murmurs into my ear.

Ignoring him, I tilt my head back and chug the rest of the champagne in my glass.

“Madison,” he warns, and squeezes my waist.

I shrug him off. “I don’t need your permission.”

Justin plucks the glass from my hand and sets it on the marble countertop in front of me. He grabs me by the elbow and guides me out of the kitchen.

My heart sinks to my stomach, and I dig the heels of my flats into the floor. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He ignores me, sending my panic into overdrive. I dig my elbow into his side, but Justin doesn’t even grunt. The only reaction I get is his tightening grip—another warning. I hold back a wince, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me hurt. He drags me out of the kitchen, then out the back door before anyone can spot us and save me from whatever punishment Justin has in store.

“Let go of me.” I shove out of his grasp, and this time he releases me as he slides the door shut behind him.

Justin adjusts his tie, then stalks toward me. Gone is the perfect gentleman, replaced by the monster he keeps hidden from everyone but me.

“Who am I?” he says as he advances.

I scramble backward, putting as much space between us as possible. This is a game I can’t win. For every step I take,he takes two. My chest squeezes as my heart fights for its life, pounding against its cage so it can escape Justin as well.

“I didn’t know your brain was between your legs. Did I bite you so hard that you got a concussion and forgot your name?” I stammer. My tongue is thick from the alcohol, which thankfully gives me a little extra courage to tell him off.

His lips flatten into a harsh line. Shadows blanket his face, with only the moonlight highlighting the sharp edges of his nose and cheekbones.

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?” He shakes his head. “You forget who I am.”

It was a lame jab toward him, but I call it a win because it got under his skin.

But at what cost?

I gasp and stumble over my own feet as he lunges the last foot between us. His hand snaps out and fists my hair on the side of my head. I yelp as he yanks me into a standing position, then walks me backward until my ass meets the banister overlooking the woods in the backyard. I clutch Justin’s shoulders as he bends me backward until I’m dangling over the edge. The toes of my shoes barely touch the ground as he hovers above me with a deep-set scowl.

It’s a twenty-foot drop if he lets go of me, and I wouldn’t put it past him to do exactly that.

“You’re my fiancée,” he says through bared teeth, “which means you answer tome. You’ll do everything I tell you to do without questioning me or talking back.”

“Justin,” I whimper. “Please. You’re hurting me.”

He scoffs. “You’re being dramatic, Madison. Isn’t this what you wanted? To see me angry after I’ve shown you nothing but kindness? I’ve spent thousands of dollars on you, and you’re still acting like a bitch.”