❝ 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪 '𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 ❞
frannie is willing to do anything to get back to her family, but can she put her trust in strangers to do it?
[slow updates]
[book 2/4]
[glenn rhee x fem!oc]
[through...
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tw: implied/referenced sexual assault, animal death ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Footsteps echoed on concrete, reverberating endlessly through my ears. The steps were heavy, an undeniable certainty in every fall. I knew who opened the door before I saw his face.
The hallway lighting haloed his frame, but through the shadows on his face I could see those eyes. "It's been a while. Have you reconsidered my offer?"
I said nothing. I bit my tongue, bid my time. I was waiting, waiting, waiting, because I was foolish enough to believe I'd have a chance.
"It's a shame." He dragged the chair across the floor, the screech painful to my ears. "You seem like the reasonable type, maybe a bit hot-headed, but reasonable nonetheless."
"I guess you were wrong about me, and I guess you got nothing out of her. You would have killed us by now if you did."
"And smart, too." He laughed and took a seat, his knees brushing against mine. Even the lightest touch made me flinch.
He reached out and touched a piece of hair that's fallen from the rest. He holds it between his fingers gently, almost admiring it. I couldn't move.
"But sometimes even the smartest among us can't see what's right in front of them." He whispered to me, a tone which I could hear salacity in.
His once soft touch turned violent. His hands wrapped around my neck. I could feel him getting closer, I could feel his breath on my face. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the tears away.
"I don't want to get violent." He told me, lifting my head so my eyes met his. "If you just tell me where—"
I fought back. I kicked his chair away, slipping free from my chair as fast I could but I wasn't fast enough. His hand was in my hair, throwing me around as if I was nothing. And when I got a hit in, he laughed.
He laughed as his hands wrapped around my neck, pinning me against the table. I remember the pain, I remember the blood trickling off his lips, and I remember his eyes. Even after all this time, I see them clearly.
His hands, how cold they were. Every movement he made, I felt the cool brush of his skin against mine. His belt, the buttons of my jeans, the sound of his breathing. I laid there on the table, staring up at that single light above my head, and I was crying.
