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Islipped out of the party but couldn’t leave untilIcaught one last glimpse ofValeria.IknewIshould’ve left, butIwas drawn to her.
Iwanted her to see me, to feel my presence, to fear me.
Iwatched as she sensed me before she even fully saw me, her body tensing subtly, andIcould picture the way her nipples hardened under my gaze, wishingIcould be the goosebumps that erupted all over her skin.
Thememory sends a rush through me.
Icraved her fiercely.Iimagined pulling her into the darkness of the woods, pinning her against a tree, claiming her lips with mine.Instead,Isettled for something more subtle yet equally powerful: intimidation.
Herbreathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling rapidly.Icould sense the thrill in her, even though she looked scared.
Herfrightened expression turned me the fuck on.
Itwasn’t just the fear in her eyes that stirred me; it was the powerIfelt knowingIprovoked such a reaction in her.
Hervulnerability fueled my desire, andIcould feel my pulse quicken in response.Itwas as if she was at my mercy.
Now, as she emerges from the bathroom,Ifeel a primal need to assert myself, to dominate her in ways that go beyond the physical.
Iwant to press her further, to see how farIcan push her.
AsIwatchValeria, a thrill shoots through me.
I’mgoing to finally make my presence known.
5
VALERIA
18 YEARS OLD
Theday is finally here, andI’mnot sure how to feel.
Istand in front of the small, cracked mirror that’s been my only companion in this place, staring at the face that hasn’t changed much in the past few years.Maybea little older, a little sharper.I’meighteen today.
I’mfree.
Igrab my old, worn bag from under the bed and start packing what littleIhave: a few clothes, toiletries, a bookI’veread a hundred times.It’scrazy how little you accumulate when nothing really belongs to you.
Theroom is silent, save for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.Isabelis scribbling something in her journal.Theother girls are out in the common area, probably waiting for me.Iexhale slowly, the breath catching in my chest.
Istand by the door, my hand resting on the worn wooden frame asIlook at my best friend.Myheart feels heavy, like it’s being pulled in two directions.
“Idon’t want to leave you,Isa,”Isay, my voice trembling. “You’vebeen my rock through everything.HowcanIjust walk out of here alone?”
Isabelgives me a small, reassuring smile, butIcan see the pain she’s trying to hide. “Val, you’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.You’vecounted down every day until you could leave and findCamila.Youcan’t put that on hold because of me.”
“Butyou won’t turn eighteen for another few months,”Iargue, more desperate thanIintended. “Ishould stay.Weshould leave together.”
Isabelshakes her head. “No, you need to go now.Thesooner you start, the sooner you’ll find her.Youcan’t waste any more time.I’llbe fine,Ipromise.”
Tearswell in my eyes. “Itjust feels wrong.”
Shestands up and crosses the room, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. “Iknow, but this is what you need to do.ForCamila.Foryourself.I’llbe right behind you when it’s my turn, okay?”
Inod, trying to hold back tears. “Okay.”
Wepull apart, andIcan see the resolve in her eyes.Itgives me strength, even though my heart aches at the thought of leaving her behind.Iknow she’s right.Ihave to go, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
