Free Damage Me (Crystal Gulf Book 2) by Shana Vanterpool Page B

me not to want you.” He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked so hard I cried out, and then he crushed his lips to mine.
    Think! I had to maim him, or distract him. All I had to do was get to the door, unlock it, and scream for help. But my body felt hollow. My limbs were empty. My brain felt sloshy. His tongue probed my mouth, tasting strongly of cigarette and vodka. I tried to turn my face to the side, but he followed, moaning the way monsters do. I ran his susceptible body parts through my head. Eyes, sternum, and groin. His taste turned my stomach, and my thoughts thickened, feeling more like mud than moving matter. My opened eyes were shielded by his hat. It was a Crystal Gulf University Gators cap.
    I felt his hand on my thigh. When I tried to clinch my legs he roughly shoved them open and settled between them, humping me like a rabid dog. It felt like he weighed a ton. The panic overtaking my body was mixing with the confusion. I was terrified and yet my brain couldn’t comprehend what was truly happening. As if my fear had amplified the effects of the drugs. It wasn’t really happening. For all I knew I was asleep, and this was simply a nightmare.
    But this wasn’t a dream.
    This was really happening.
    That single thought, that damaging truth, broke through the dam. I found his lip and bit down so hard I tasted metal. He roared and reared back, giving me enough room to roll over.
    “Even better. I’ll take you from behind.” He pushed my skirt up and tried to pull me back, gripping my waist.
    I grabbed the edge of the mattress and pulled, forcing my body to work around the drugs. “Get off of me! Help! Somebody help! Please!”
    “Shut up!” the monster growled, grabbing my hair so hard I felt my scalp tear when he yanked me back to him. He settled on top of me and covered my mouth with is hand as he tried to free his zipper.
    This was happening too fast. Too many damaging things were going on, waiting to break me. His zipper gave way, sending a bone-deep, catastrophic, swarm of terror through me. It rolled around in me until puke filled my mouth. With his hand over my mouth it went back down my throat. Tears made his hand slippery.
    He wasn’t going to do this to me. I refused to let a monster take who I was. I prayed to God hard, begging him for strength. I just needed one second of strength. Only one. I had to have the energy to fight because I was going to fight. I wasn’t going to let him ruin me.
    He pushed my thighs apart and reached for my panties. He grabbed the waistband and attempted to push them to the side, but they were too tight. In order for him to get to them he had to either let my mouth go or give up. But I wasn’t a monster. I didn’t think like him. I had no idea he had other plans. How could I predict the thoughts of an evil bastard?
    The moment he reached for his belt a revolting tremor rocked my body. I didn’t know what he was going to do with it. Tie me up, strangle me, fasten me to the bed, hit me—all I understood at that moment was if he got his belt off I lost. He wanted it for a reason. He had plans for it.
    Amidst my fear my eyes were blurrier. The drugs started to win out over my fear, but one look at his exposed body rocketed me into action. As he tried to get his belt free, I struggled to get the flesh of his hand between my teeth. I bit down hard.
    “Fuck!” he shouted, pulling his hand back.
    “Help! Help me!” As I shouted I recalled something I’d heard in high school. When people scream for help most times the person hearing it wouldn’t respond. It sparked their fear. It made them afraid of what you were afraid of. It was better to scream something they would respond to. Something that denoted action. “Fire! The house is on fire! There’s a fire!” I screamed with everything inside of me, with every ounce of my being, with the fire in my heart, with the part of me who refused to lose.
    “Shut your fucking mouth.” His fist came at me too fast for