𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 | 𝟏𝟖+

6

A month passes but inside, I'm still a mess. I'm lying here in the dark, covers pulled up over my head like I'm a kid again hiding from monsters.

Except this time, the monsters are very real.

It all replays on a sickening loop in my mind, no matter how hard I squeeze my eyes shut. Part of me regrets ever leaving home in the first place. As messed up as my life was there, at least I knew what to expect. A big part of me wants to turn and run, to go back to the simplicity of my old life.

But of course, there's no going back.

No matter how hard I try to push it down, I can't shake the memory of that vile man's hands violating me, the cold press of his blade against my throat. It invades my thoughts at the worst moments - when I'm getting dressed, when Damien's touching me, even in my dreams.

I haven't been out with Damien since. He's let me slide for a while, but I can tell his patience is wearing thin. Damien says that having a beautiful woman by his side at events makes him look good, boosts his reputation.

But after what happened, the thought of putting on that fake smile and pretending everything is perfectly fine makes me want to vomit.

I know Damien's going to push it soon though. He's been dropping not-so-subtle hints about an upcoming event he has to make an appearance at.

I know I can only deflect and make up excuses for so long before he gets fed up.

Sure enough, a rough knock at the door nearly makes me bolt upright.

"Get ready, we're heading out tonight, wear the white dress," Damien's voice carries through the wood, not waiting for a response before I hear his footsteps retreat.

I flop back with a frustrated huff. So much for giving me a break after...everything. Of course he just expects me to shake it off and be his perfect little doll again.

"Yeah, okay," I mumble sarcastically, rolling my eyes as I angrily kick off the covers. My phone vibrates on the nightstand and I snatch it up eagerly.

"Hey, are you all going to club Crimson tonight?" I blurt out before she can even greet me properly.

"Uh, yeah girl, we're all heading there around 11," Star replies, clear confusion in her tone. "Everything okay?"

"Yes. No...I don't know," I admit, running a hand through my tangled hair anxiously.

Her concern is obvious and I feel grateful for having her as a friend through all this.

I shake my head, forgetting she can't see me. "Thanks for checking, but yeah...I've got to just power through, you know? I'll be fine as long as I know you guys have my back there."

"You know it, babe," Star vows fiercely. "We'll keep our eyes peeled for any sketchy shit, cross our hearts." She kisses me through the phone, and ends the call.

I stare at the white dress Damien set out for me, it stops right above the knee. "Oh...so he wants me to cover up now." I scoff.

Does he think that just because I was wearing a short dress, I somehow deserved it?

I rifle through the closet until I find a tight black lace dress that looks like it belongs on a stripper. The material is nearly see-through, showing almost as much as it covers, and the hemline barely skims my upper thighs. Perfect for the foul, defiant mood I'm in - if Damien wants a perfect, pretty little doll tonight, I'll give him one.

If I'm going to do this whole arm-candy thing, I might as well own it on my own terms for once instead of simply obeying.

I'm real tired of men doing whatever they please to me.