Dancing With The Devil

Chapter 25

My eyes burst open. I couldn't breathe. My hands went to my throat, trying to claw the obstruction away. My nails dug into soft flesh and I heard a man hiss out in pain, but the grip remained firm around my neck. I instantly knew that resistance and that voice.

Josh.

Every fiber of my body begged me to fight in an effort to save my own life. Every part of me wanted to scratch at his hands, to go for his eyes that I could barely see in the dark, or to punch out until I struck something soft. My lungs burned in my chest, screaming for air. I began seeing dark spots in my vision. My head was starting to fill with a numb dizziness that could only come from lack of oxygen. I knew that I couldn't last much longer like this.

But fighting him would only make him hold out longer. In his anger at my resistance he would want to punish me more. And maybe, tonight would be the night that he pushed too hard. Maybe, if I provoked him I wouldn't wake up again. So, if I wanted to make it out alive I had to be as still as possible. And if he didn't give in and let me breathe? Well, at least I would never have to see his face again.

As I stopped moving- stopped squirming in an effort to save myself- I could feel his fingers loosening.

I sucked in a breath as soon as I was able, but it was small and certainly not enough.

"Did you miss me?" Josh hissed out into the dark, his mouth close to my ear.

I could smell the alcohol on his breath. That made my heart pound so hard I almost feared I was having a heart attack. But a hard slap to my face and the pain the that was emitting through my body because of it assured me that I was very much alive. At least for now.

"Answer me!" Josh barked.

"Yes. I missed you." I lied.

Tears streamed down my cheeks and onto the pillow beneath my head.

"Good girl, I knew you did." He purred.

His head dipped down and his lips touched the side of my throat. His affection was blasphemous, fueled only by vile lust and it make me sick to my stomach. I wanted to shove him away instantly and I wanted to scrub every part of my body, relieving my skin from his filth. From his disgusting intentions. But I would only make it harder on myself. I would only make this awful time last longer and I wasn't sure if I could bear another second of it.

Thankfully, he pulled away rather quickly to turn on the bedside lamp.

When the light illuminated the room and my eyes adjusted I gasped in horror.

Josh was wearing a white dress shirt that was tucked into designer slacks. His blue eyes were gleaming with a violent edge and his expression was absolutely terrifying. But not nearly as frightening as the crimson liquid that had stained the entire front of that perfect, white dress shirt.

I was screaming before I was awake.

I jerked upright in the little bed as the wails poured out of my mouth and tears streamed down my pale cheeks. I frantically reached for the switch on my lamp as I sucked in harsh rasping breaths. Severe white light filled the room, burning my sensitive eyes, but I still forced myself to look around, to survey my surroundings.

My small bed covered in quaint sheets. The bedside table with an old book and tube of lip chap on it. The small, antique dresser that had been filled with my clothes. My duffle bag and dirty clothes strewn across the floor.