Chapter 6: Realizations

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"I'm waiting for an answer, Grace."

I didn't answer back. I couldn't; shock had taken away my voice. My legs gave out, I collapsed onto the rough carpet.

I couldn't process the scene: Jeff glaring up at my from my bed, spine hunched over. Mouth twisted into a snarl, teeth sharp and glistening, like a dog's. Hands balled up into fists.

This was beyond anger. I had never experienced anything like this...THING. I could almost see the anger, black and snarled, surrounding his figure.

I couldn't even call him a person; his face was bone white, his eyes and messy hair pitch-black, all the color washed out by the moonlight pouring through the lacy white curtains. He was cold, icy cold, but for his eyes. They burned into mine like black fire, burning me where I sat, leaving me paralyzed.

Jeff took several deep breaths. He unclenched his hands. He seemed like he was trying to collect himself.

He got up off my bed, pacing across the carpet with such an energy, I was scared he'd lose it and break something of mine. I could feel the anger rolling off him like tsunami waves.

Five more minutes passed. Jeff finally stopped his pacing and strode over, sitting down next to me, and grabbing me by my shoulders. He looked at me pleadingly.

"Grace, please. I was so worried when you didn't show up. Please, just tell me where you were," he said. His voice was almost...sad. But definitely calmer than it was ten minutes ago.

His words may have been calm, but his eyes still had that manic gleam in them. I could tell that he just barely had his anger in check.

I knew I had to be careful about what I said. Anything could set him off again. I whispered, "I-I, was at Chelsea's house. I wanted to talk about...things, with her."

He frowned. "And by 'things', you mean Nico, right?" He looked down and picked at the carpet. Like nothing was even wrong. But I knew that he was deep in thought. And waiting for my response.

My stomach dropped, and I looked away from him. I probably looked guilty as hell. "How...how did you know about that?" I didn't try to deny it wasn't about Nico, because -somehow- he already knew. Plus, the truth was written all over my face. I've never been much of a liar.

Jeff laughed sarcastically. "I saw you and him in the coffee shop. I heard most of the conversation. I saw you hit him. I talked to Kacey afterwards, and he told me what he heard."

I opened my mouth to answer, but he put his hand over my mouth, and leaned closer to me. He was so close our noses were touching. I could smell the intoxicating scent of him.

"Now, what I sooo want to know," he whispered into my ear. I shivered at his closeness, and at the velvety, barely-disguised harshness in his voice. Like a razor blade under silk. "Is why you told Chelsea, and not me. Oh, and why you met him there in the first place. I don't particularly want you alone with him." His eyes held mine, almost hypnotic.

Almost. Gathering my brain, I tore Jeff's hand away. Anger flooded through me, coloring my face. Who was he, telling me who I could and couldn't see? He wasn't my owner. I still had my free will, dammit.

I probably should've thought before I spoke. "Jeff, you do not own me, I'm perfectly entitled to see who I want to see. Unless 'boyfriend' means 'Super Nazi dickhead' in your language, in which case, I'm not interested. Just, get out," I spat at him. Without looking at him, I stood up and walked over to my bed, far away from him. Even from this distance, I could feel his eyes burning into me. I sat down, legs curled under me, arms crossed. I glared over at him, just in time to see him jump up.

Before I had time to react, he pounced onto me. I gasped and struggled to throw him off, to no avail.

Pressing his weight on me, he pinned my arms down with inhuman strength. I drew my knee up to kick him, but he pinned my legs with his own.

"Jeff, get off! You're hurting me!" I squealed. I was panicking. I couldn't get him off; his hot, hard body was weighing me down, making me immobile. I was trapped under him.

His onyx eyes flashed at me. He brought his face to mine and kissed me forcefully. I tried to resist at first, but my body couldn't help but respond. Bit by bit, I stopped struggling against him. My head was filled with the taste of him. I suddenly couldn't get enough; I arched upward, as best as I could, to crush my lips even more closely onto his. He let go of my arms to caress up and down my body. I sucked in a breath as I felt his warm, rough hands lightly grab my hipbones. Possessing me.

He let go of me and pulled his face from mine. He got off me, unpinning my body. I sat up shakily and moved away from him, leaning back against the wall.

"See?" he whispered hoarsely. "Mine. You're all mine." He was still inches away from me.

Though my body begged me to agree with him, I couldn't. Though I wanted to fling myself onto him again, I couldn't.

Two weeks with him, and he was already trying to control my life. Tell me who to talk to. I wasn't the kind of girl to be told what to do by some creep.

"Jeff...no. I'm not yours. I never will be. Just, leave. We're done." I crossed my arms as I said this, and glared right back at him.

He balled his fists up, and snarled incoherently. I thought he was going to pin me down again, but he didn't.

"You'll see, Grace. You're MINE. You'll see."

He glared at me one more time, and jumped off my bed. He stomped out of my room, slamming the door behind him. I could hear him stomping down the stairs, and finally, out of my house.

I fell back onto my bed, pulling the blankets over my shivering body.

His words haunted me. 'You'll see.' What did that mean? My hands shook as I remembered the look on his face. It was the face of a lunatic. The memory of his eyes burning into mine were branded in my brain. I could see them when I closed my eyes. I was physically and mentally exhausted, but the eyes wouldn't let me sleep.

They were watching me, still. I knew they were.

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