Fear Me (Broken Love #1)

“I see.”


His right hand dropped and I thought he was going to step back until I felt his fingers grip my thigh, lifting it up to wrap around his waist in one smooth movement. I clutched my towel to keep it from falling while silently pleading with him not to do whatever it was he was about to do. All the confidence I had moments before washed away.

“I can feel the heat from your * burning through the towel,” he paused and moved his hand further up. “I bet if I ripped this shit away and touched you, you would be wet. Should we find out?”

I whimpered as my body reacted to his threat. It caused this familiar ache I felt deep inside me, whenever he was near, except this time was stronger. His eyes darkened as he pressed harder against me.

“This business between us has taken a dangerous turn and I have no intentions on stopping. I’m going to enjoy stealing away what you cherish most and making you love it while I do.” His voice was barely restrained, animal lust as his hand slid further up to rest at the apex of my thighs.

“If you had even the smallest idea of all the things I’m going to fucking do to you, you would run and run fast.” I shook my head weakly and pushed forward as I licked my lips and met his eyes, letting him see the need he was creating inside me. “But then…I wouldn't let you get far.”

He suddenly pushed off the wall and scrubbed a hand down his face, his normal blank mask in place as if the last sixty seconds didn't just happen. Without another word he moved to the window. So he did come through the window.

I watched him go and had the fleeting thought that desire and fear were the same. Was that screwed up or what? He lifted the window and paused, gazing out into the night.

“There isn’t a worse threat out there to you than me.” His shoulders tensed and I held my breath, waiting for him to continue. “Do as you’re told,” he gritted, disappearing into the night.



*



Morning came too soon. It was my birthday. I was now eighteen and miserable. I’d forgotten my birthday was coming until Aunt Carissa reminded me last night. Ever since the pharmacy my mind was stuck in one place. Keiran.

I hated my birthday though. It was the day I found out my parents weren’t coming back. I stopped thinking of it as my birthday and instead considered it the anniversary my parents became dead to me. They left.

I’d come downstairs expecting my aunt to be gone but found her waiting with my favorite dessert. I was a sucker for ice-cream cake. She tied balloons to the bar stools and had streamers everywhere and I laughed at her when she blew on those blow out things that sounded like an elephant with a cold.

“Happy Birthday, Lake!” she jumped up and down much like a big kid, which was sort of embarrassing, but I loved it.

“Thank you, Aunt Carissa. This is great.”

“Oh honey, Willow was supposed to be here, but she’s running late. Something about Peepee hiding her keys.”

“Pepé,” I laughed, correcting her. “He is still mad at her for leaving for the entire summer.” He was a sneaky little guy but cute as a button…for a rat.

“Shame. He’ll come around. No one can stay mad at Willow for too long.” That was true. Willow had a gift for winning people over except for the ones who thought she was a freak. It was more about the way she dressed than it was about her.

“I’m making your favorite mixed-berry pancakes so I hope you’re hungry.” I was hungry though I never ate much in the mornings. My appetite usually developed later in the morning but today was different considering I skipped dinner after Keiran left. I went straight to bed, too emotionally wrung out to hang.

“Starving.”

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