Page 69 of Vicious Kingdom

Those clammy fingers brushed over my cheek. “So pretty. You’ve always been such a pretty child.”

And just like that, I froze.

The self-defense tactics were no match for the soul-crushing terror, the gut-wrenching fear, the panic that was embedded in me after endless days and nights of his pursuit, his torment. Years of his grooming and assaults left me feeling powerless. I tried to move, to fight back, but the sickening dread had me paralyzed. He’d never raped me—he had some sick, twisted notion about waiting until our wedding night to complete our destined union—but it was just as bad. The constant torment, the unwanted caresses, the terrifying kisses—it all lingered like a rotten stench, threatening to suffocate me. I was a mess, a spineless, cowardly, anxious mess. He made me that way.

While I could stay strong in public, while I could pretend it wasn’t my reality and live my life, he was always there, lurking. A single encounter with him, a single moment of being caught in his trap, laid me bare. It unraveled the pretense, shredded my defenses and left me helpless. How could a man who was nothing but sweat and bone have such power over me? How could he reduce me to this? It was disgusting. It was so wrong.

And yet, it was happening again.

Full-fledged panic gripped me as he shifted his weight, pinning me further.

I whimpered.

“Get off,” I tried again. The words were weak. I was weak.

“Pookie, don’t be like that.”

“Leave me alone. This isn’t right,” I insisted, but the words came out as a plea.

A car drove up the drive. The lights flickered over the grass, just beyond us.

“They’ll see you,” I warned, summoning courage from the presence of the lights to fight back.

“It will all be over soon, Pookie Bear.” The Tormentor pressed a sloppy kiss on my forehead. “I’ll save you. That’s what you want. Say it.”

His fingers dug into my flesh.

“You’re hurting me,” I choked.

“Nooo, you’re hurting yourself. Just say the word, and this will be over.”

Heaven forgive me, I couldn’t fight him. So I told the sick, twisted motherfucker what he wanted to hear. “Save me.”

His laugh of delight was a demented cackle. But he sprang off me with the agility of youth and took off running into the dark.

My knees, weak and shaking, pulled inward and close to my chest. I hugged them for comfort. It was over, the worst was over. He was gone, but his presence lingered like an old nightmare. Which was exactly what he was.

His words festered in my ears, his touch alive on my skin. I clung desperately to my own limbs, trying to steady my breath, embracing myself as though I could hold all the madness at bay. They would find me like this, alone, scared. I tucked my legs further under me, trying to protect my fragile self.The Tormentor wouldn't come back, not tonight. I hoped. I whispered the lie to myself. It was over.

He’s gone.I trembled. I couldn’t stop the fear trickling through me. “This has to stop.”

But I hadn’t found a way to make that happen. Part of me, the part that was ready to give up, almost convinced me yet again that it never would.

“It has to.” I forced out the words. “It has to stop.”

I sat up, but I couldn’t stop shaking. Once I was out of this house, away from the circle of acquaintances, he couldn’t touch me. While death was a more sure ending to his torture, that had never been an option to escape him. That would require me admitting what he was.

And no one would believe that.

His poison ran so deep that it triggered my self-defense mechanism: Tell no one. Shame welled inside me. There was no one in my corner to defend me. They would all side with him, say that my stories were lies.

It was how men like him got away with hurting their victims.

I remained silent, dying slowly on the inside while knowing a demon like him was popular with society, friends, neighbors, and our own family.

No, my only option was to escape, to make myself unreachable. Then he would watch from the sewer that was his existence as I lived a happily ever after in direct defiance to his torment. That was how I would beat him at this game! And I was so very,veryclose to it being over.

Chapter 25 – Leonardo