Legacy

Chapter 22: Scream For Me

Michael carries me back to the rickety bed and lays me down gently. A scream rises in my throat at the feeling of my stitches stretching, but I bite it down. I didn't even notice that he'd preset the camera right next to the dresser. After he starts recording, I fix him with a glare.

"September, I might go easy on you this time," he grins. "If you wanna have a little fun before we get started." The damned eyebrow quirks again.

"With my injuries," I glance pointedly at my sling and then my thigh, "is that really the best idea?" I slide up to an awkward sitting position against the wall. My thumb rubs along the sling and I fight the urge to pop my fingers.

I don't want his cold hard hands on my bare skin. I can't stomach the thought of him inside me again.

"I'll be gentle," Michael whispers, leaning in so his lips are near my neck.

I poke my arm gently and grit my teeth at the sudden sharp ache in the bone. The feeling of Michael's lips on my throat makes chills run up my spine.

I gulp. "It's not this part I'm worried about."

"You should've thought of that before you decided to run," Michael whispers in my ear before gently pushing me down on the bed. His fingers creep up my shirt and grip my breast, pressing into the bruises that are still healing.

I flatten my good palm against his chest and try to push him away. "As long as Mason's still out there looking for me," I grunt, "I'll never stop trying to get away from you!" The image of Michael's sudden flinch on the bridge flashes through my head and I repeat the words I'd used to cause it. "You fucking psycho."

Michael pulls away and meets my eyes with no emotion on his face. He grips my wrist and pins my arm to the bed as he straddles me.

"You want psycho, Morning Bird?" I hear the click of a pocket knife being whipped out and stiffen beneath him. "I'll show you just how psycho I can be." The cold flat of the blade presses against my cheek and I glare up at him.

Michael glares right back before crashing his lips against mine and sliding the blade down my cheek, drawing blood. He kisses me so hard that our teeth might as well be scraping against each other.

I yank my face to the side and try to knee him between the legs, earning his knee ramming into my stitches as a reward. The blade, now wet with my blood, taps lightly against my chin, guiding my face back to where it was a moment before. He kisses me again, this time a little softer.

"Scream for me," he mumbles, opening his eyes to stare into mine. The blade moves from my chin to my throat and my breath hitches. His hand around my wrist slides down my stomach and slips beneath the waistband of my shorts. My fingers curl around his knife hand and I try to push it away from my neck.

Michael forces his tongue between my lips and I take the chance to bite down. Hard. His head jolts back and I hear a grunted curse before the knife slices against my collarbone.

I can't hold the scream back as Michael climbs off of me and pulls me up beside him. My thigh and arm throb in the sudden pain. "Oh yeah, Morning Bird," Michael says, roughly bending me over the bed and yanking my shorts down to my knees. "Just like that."

~~~~~

When Michael finally pulls away, I manage to turn my head over my shoulder and glare at him. His answering grin as he zips up his pants and removes his belt makes me flinch and turn back around.

I tug my shorts up as fast as I can manage with one hand and sit back on the bed. There's no way for me to sit comfortably after all that just happened. I can't cross my legs without feeling the slick goop still there. My fingers go up to the cut on my collarbone and I wince, glancing down at the blood now coating them.