Free The Breakaway by Michelle D. Argyle

her more and more until it was a regular ritual, and now she missed his lips on her skin, his tight embrace and whispers that he would keep her safe forever. He was so wrong.
    Jesse approached her and she backed away. The last thing she wanted was him trying to comfort her. They wanted to make her believe they cared about her, and she couldn’t allow that.
    “Don’t touch me,” she whimpered. “Please.” She backed into a bookshelf and watched him come closer. He was the same size as Brad, just as strong, but leaner. She could see his firm muscles defined under his shirt. He definitely worked out, but she wondered why—if it was for a girlfriend. Why was he even here? He didn’t seem related to the others in any way.
    He came closer. Naomi held her breath. She would not freak out. She could handle this, but tears spilled down her face. Something about him tipped her over the edge. It was something strong, like in Brad, the hard glimmer in his eyes pushing her into submission, the way he moved as if nothing could shake him. A part of her yearned for it, and the other part cowered.
    He touched her cheek to wipe away a tear. His hand was warm and gentle. “The news reports say you’re shy. You have no close friends except for Brad.”
    She couldn’t tear her gaze from the freckles on his cheeks. They weren’t nerdy like some of the boys’ freckles at school. She could see he was proud of the way he looked, the way he held himself.
    He tilted his head. “How can someone so smart and beautiful be so lonely?”
    More tears. She couldn’t keep them back. She felt behind her, but there were only books, nothing to defend herself with as his hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her away from the bookshelf. She remembered how firmly he had held her in the motel room when he had helped her up from the floor, how he had smelled of stale cologne and sweat—a sweet, almost comforting scent. He smelled like that now, like Brad, like everything she loved and hated.
    With a heavy sigh, she gave in and let him gather her into his arms. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, embarrassed that her tears were already soaking through his shirt. It was gross, but he didn’t seem to care.
    “Shhh,” he whispered, tightening his hold on her. It was tighter than it needed to be. He lightly caressed a spot on her back. “You must still be scared to death, even after a month here, but we haven’t hurt you, have we?”
    “N-no,” she whimpered. An odd feeling swept over her, like she was floating in water. She remembered months ago trying to straighten the starfish in the tide pool so she could take a picture. It had velvety, bumpy skin. It clung to the rock for dear life as she tried to pry it away.
    “The only reason Eric will hurt you is if you try to get away,” he said in a steady voice. “You won’t do that.”
    “I won’t.” She had no idea if she meant it. They couldn’t possibly expect her to give in so easily. She was trembling now. Jesse loosened his hold and nudged her away enough so he could look at her.
    “Let’s play a game.” He nodded to the pool table. “I’ll teach you if you don’t know how. It’ll get your mind off things.”
    “I don’t think so,” she said through a sob. Her mind was spinning around thoughts of Brad and the starfish and that night on the beach with Damien as she ate a hot dog with mustard. The only thing she thought about her parents was them driving away to work in the morning, and that made her feel guilty for some stupid reason. The last thing she wanted to do was play a game.
    “Naomi, calm down.”
    She looked up and realized she was sobbing uncontrollably. Little hiccups escaped her mouth. Her nose was starting to run. Fantastic.
    “I’m sorry,” she spluttered and turned away to wipe her nose with her hands. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, a complete wreck. Even her knees felt weak.
    “What’s the matter?” he asked. “I had no idea mentioning