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“Stop it, Abel.”
Of course, I didn’t listen. I got her bra off, worked toward her panties, and lowered them along her hips, but she squirmed and scowled. “I said stop it.” She pushed me hard enough to take a step back, and she walked over to my dresser.
Fighting me off had me eyeing her closely and made my cock leak pre-cum as I started warming up, and I scanned the wall. The image of thrusting inside her against said wall had me stepping toward her, and I prepared to grab her and throw her against it, but her head cocked slightly as she pulled out some of my sweatpants and a T-shirt. The hair on the back of her head was streaked with blood, a big fat blinking stop sign. Even though she was acting like she was fine, the need to care for her dampened the fiery heat pulsing within me.
With no undergarments on, Chan left the heels on and bent to put on the pants, her ass high in the air. I wanted to bite my fist, I embedded it into my memory to reenact this position when she wasn’t hurt.
Once dressed, she glared and stomped toward the door. Shocked, I gave her a double take. “Where the fuck are you going?”
Nothing. She slammed the door behind her, and her footsteps sounded on the staircase.
“Damnit.” I ran toward the dresser, threw on a shirt and sweats, slipped my feet into my slip-on shoes by the door, and ran after her.
Furious, I shouldn’t have to run after her. I didn’t chase, but Chan proved to be the exception, which had me acting like a bull with a red flag waving in front of me.
Chapter 5
Chantilla
A slew of negative emotions thundered inside me, and I didn’t understand how to express them. I kept my mouth shut all my life and did what I was told. I became the perfect daughter because causing waves made everything much more difficult, but finding my voice improved things. It didn’t mean I figured out how to execute it all the time because now was a prime example.
Despite not being used to wearing the three-inch heels that I’d allowed Abel to dress me in like his personal doll, I amazed myself at my ability to stomp through the campus as he caught up with me. His displeasure was evident as he had no problem outsourcing his negative emotions. He was highly vocal and demanded others know how unhappy he was with them. I was no exception.
“Chan, stop.”
Ignoring him, I pushed forward as the anger over the camera and his lie combined with the fear of the recording being turned into a new way for him to torture me. Against my better judgment, I stayed with him because I understood the workings of his mind and his need to control and manipulate. The longer I stayed with him, the more I desired to remain against all good sense. There was no denying any of it. I loved the jerk.
Everything I did was to make him happy. The need for his validation was overwhelming and made me angry with my neediness. Knowing how much I cared about what he thought of me pissed me so much right now. There was no lying to myself. I didn’t do any of this because he had something over me, like the shooting or now the sextape. The worst part about it was that I wasn’t supposed to know about the shooting, and the inner struggle of telling him what I had seen made lasting internal conflicts. I wouldn’t be surprised if it manifested into an ulcer one day if I didn’t come clean.
Abel’s hand grabbed my elbow and jerked me to a stop. I folded my arms over my chest and glared at the ground because the urge to smack him was far too strong.
I wanted to blurt into all this tension that I had stolen the SD card, watched it, and put it back. Maybe we needed a knock down drag-out fight. We could have it out, cool off and come back together. Or Abel might explode with anger and walk away from me. The fear of that thought confirmed to me that there wasn’t much I wouldn’t do to stay with Abel. Even if his idea of our future was far from what I’d imagined for myself.
I snapped my eyes up to his, settling with the need to get everything out in the open, but he beat me to the punch when he said, “No pools at the trailer park?”
The desire to stomp my heel into his foot was remarkable. “No.”
Abel tipped his head to the right and a half smile curved on his lips. Strangely, there was no arrogance in it. “Your mom married up many times. No one had a pool besides us?”
Yanking my arm out of Abel’s hold, I maneuvered around him and resumed my path home. The stomping wasn’t as pronounced as I was instantly tired, and my feet ached. My head did too, especially the back.
I gave him a mirthless laugh. “You think I stayed anywhere long enough or got comfortable enough anywhere to treat it like a home? I was a constant guest and have never had a home. I’d never assume to simply go into the pool.”
Abel was at my side within a couple of steps, but his tense shoulders were no longer present, and he tucked his hands in his pockets. I didn’t pay him any further attention as we walked.
The urge to explain had me talking. “Come on, Abel, you lived with me. I never left my room outside of times I had to. I did a bit more when you were there, but you were hardly there. I spent hours at school and doing extra credit in the library. You were good to me when we were younger. I wanted to be your friend because you seemed like an outsider like me, but look where it has gotten me. You bullied me and then have this need to control me constantly.”
Abel’s shoulders tensed again, and he spat out, “Well, it doesn’t seem to have been too rough. You and Blake sure look mighty comfortable with each other.”
I wanted to throw my hands in the air but rolled my eyes instead. “Don’t worry, he was forced to spend time with me. He babysat me. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice.”
“Oh, so it’s authority figures you are attracted to, not stepbrothers. You liked him then because he was in charge. What is it now? A good grade so you can sleep with the teacher.”
Smack! My palm stung. Abel’s left cheek was red. My jaw dropped open, and I covered my mouth with both hands in shock. “Oh, God. Abel?” I’d never slapped anyone before, and I didn’t enjoy a moment of it.
Staring at me, he rubbed his hand against his cheek.
“I’m sorry, but that was completely uncalled for. You know for damn certain I don’t sleep with him. How could I when you order me to your bed almost every night? You have your frat brothers watching and ushering me around everywhere.” Frustration leached from me as I laid it all out for him.
