Page 95 of WTF
I’d let him have this, and then I’d take what was mine and I’d never let anyone else touch him again.
It didn’t make it easier that I could tell he didn’t want to do this. That he was uncomfortable under someone’s hands. In fact, it made the torture even worse like someone rubbing handfuls of salt into an open and infected wound.
My angel was a stubborn one and liked to give as good as he got—something I admired but only when it didn’t hurt him as well. I’d give it to the end of this song, and then this was over. No more games. I’d grovel if I had to, then spend the rest of my life making up for the pain I’d caused the last few weeks.
A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, and I whipped my head around. Max wasn’t looking at me, though, but likely at the man I was keeping watch over.
His teeth flashed, tinted blue in the neon light. “Ah, he took my advice.”
My mouth dropped. Then I pointed toward Lars. “You told him to do this.”
“Figured that would do it.” Max seemed proud of himself.
“You would know.” I glowered.
We stared at each other for the span of a heartbeat and then laughed.
Max leaned in toward my ear so he didn’t have to yell. “You got this?”
I nodded. “Thanks for watching out for him tonight.”
“Always,” he said, holding out his fist.
I bumped mine against it. Then he went back to my brother, exactly where he belonged.
And I turned back to where I belonged.
Except when I did, Lars was gone.
24
Lars
The lossof his attention was a knock-out punch that sent me spiraling.
The hands of the stranger I’d been enduring for the sake of making him seethe suddenly felt like a violation. The hands seemed to cling like vines with thorns as I pulled back, trying to get some distance.
I turned my body, still dancing in hopes that the movement would somehow shake off the worst of my ick. Crushing dread welled up again, making the vodka in my belly churn and my body feel off balance. Sweat beaded the back of my neck and forehead as I looked for my friends for a bit of familiarity.
The machines pumping fog into the massive space went off again, and the white smoke-like shit permeated the air like poison slowly taking over everything. The lights flashed, almost blinding me, creating shadows that were chased away almost instantly by new flashes of neon.
My pulse thumped rapidly, making me feel breathless, and the guy I’d managed to evade found his way to me again. He pulled me against his chest, my back to his front. Hips rolling against mine, I fought the urge to gag.
No. No. I didn’t like this.
The room blurred until I was straddling a line between the present and the past, clawing like hell to stay here in this moment instead of being thrust back into a time and place I only wanted to forget.
Unfortunately for me, this was the perfect storm with no sun here to light up the worst of the rain. I gave one last try to push away from the one I was dancing with, but his free hand came up to grab my throat.
My nostrils flared, the urge to run pumping me so full of adrenaline I was almost useless.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he rumbled in my ear.
Eyes flying wide, I stared ahead, the white fog rolling past giving way to a flash of red. And in that red, he stood.
Oskar. My tormentor. My abuser. The man I just couldn’t seem to shake.
He stood unmoving like the chaos of the crowd was no match for him, like he had some sort of impenetrable forcefield around him. He stared at me in sick satisfaction with just enough accusation to make my stomach heave.