Page 114 of Trust
“Hurry up,” Adam growls at me.
I fumble with my pants, and it takes even longer to unfasten those and get those and my underwear off. I fold those, too, then I’m standing naked in front of Adam.
He’s still in his police uniform.
The irony hits me.
If I called the cops, would they dismiss this as just one morebullshit domestic?
Probably.
Then I’d be left alone with Adam again, and he’d really make me pay.
He hasn’t laid a hand on me, and there’s noproofthat he’s doing anything wrong.
Yet.
My stomach lurches again.
“Adam,” I whisper. “Adam, please. You don’t really want to do this.”
“What am I doing?” Adam asks, caressing my cheek. “I remember how you mewled for me. It’s nothing we haven’t done before. Why shouldn’t I fuck my boyfriend?” He suddenly pulls on my hair, making me cry out. “Unless you actually think that Russian piece of shit is better than me?”
I do.
I think Ilya is better than Adam in so many ways.
No, Iknowhe’s better.
He’s brutal, and he’s done terrible things, but he’s gentle with me. He cares about me, and he’d never hurt me.
He’ll protect me.
I just need to hold out until he gets here.
Part of me wonders what will happen then, though. What do I actually expect? For Adam to calmly accept that I’m going to walk away — for good this time? Or for him to grab the gun and turn it on Ilya in what I know he’ll claim is a home invasion, or an attempt at revenge, or something that sounds equally valid in court?
I’ve made a terrible mistake.
“He fucked me bare,” I blurt the lie out, unable to think of any other excuse. “You don’t want to risk getting any diseases, remember?”
Adam stops. For a split second, his eyes widen, then he snarls in anger. “You did what?”
I don’t have time to react.
Adam backhands me, sending me reeling. I stumble onto the floor, my side crashing against the bedframe.
The pain flares, and I’m momentarily breathless from it. “I’m sorry!” I say desperately. And I am. I’m sorry I said it, because it’s only made him angrier.
I didn’t want to be fucked, though.
I don’t want his hands on me, good or bad, but I’d rather he hurt me than touch me that way.
Adam grabs my arm and shakes me. “You couldn’t wait to cheat on me, could you? You fuckingwhore. After I treated you so kindly. You let just anyone fuck you bare!”
I wish I could have. I wish I could’ve felt the intimacy of it.
“It wasn’t cheating!” I protest. “You told me to do it.”
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