He took me to old movies at a local theater that served themed menus to match. And on Valentine’s Day he sent so many roses that my room had overflowed. He told me that he liked my innocence so much he didn’t mind waiting for me.
His eyes narrow. “I think you like this shit, giving me blue balls. Making us fight over you.”
“You weren’t fighting over me! Not like that. He was just being an ass.” I’m not sure when the anger started, the accusations. It feels like it came slowly, creeping up on me. By the time I realized how bad it had gotten, I was almost afraid to end things. How would he react?
Shane scoffs. “All my friends want to fuck you, and I’m tired of fucking lying.”
“So don’t. It looked like Rick knew anyway.”
“He figured it out, because I was—” He cuts off with a dark glare. “And now he won’t fucking shut up. I get it, you’re hard to get. Message received.”
My breath catches. “You think this is a game?”
“It is a game. You’re playing me, and I fucking played along. I waited for you longer than any other guy would have.”
That isn’t exactly true. Giovanni waited for me longer than a couple months…and we never got to be together. But he’s gone now. I can’t keep living in the past.
And maybe Shane is right. Maybe this is a game, but not like he thinks. I wasn’t trying to make him jealous. I was living in an imaginary world where Giovanni was somehow alive, where he’d find me and we could be together. I was playing pretend.
“Okay,” I say softly, giving up more than my virginity. I’m giving up the dream of another boy in another time. “Let’s go back to my place.”
“No,” he says.
“Yours then.”
“And give you time to change your mind? No fucking way. Here. We’re doing it right here.”
Shock leaves me cold. This isn’t the charming boy who paid for my latte. This isn’t the hot guy sneaking a feel underneath the table on a date. This isn’t even about sex. I saw what my sister did, both at the strip club and in our previous life—the way sex became about power. That’s how this feels, like Shane is trying to prove a point.
That’s not how I want my first time to be. Cruel hands on my back, hot breath on my neck. I swore to myself that my first time would be with someone I loved. I may be able to break that promise for Shane, but at least I want the illusion.
I make my voice soft. “Please, Shane. I’m sorry I made you wait so long. Let’s just find a bed, and I promise—”
“I said no. Did you hear me? We’re going to lift that short skirt of yours right here, right now, and I’m going to get what I’ve been waiting for.”
My shock hardens into anger. I would do a lot to avoid conflict, but I won’t lose my virginity in a back alley. I know I seem soft—it’s why my sister is so protective of me. But underneath I’m forged in steel. Even she doesn’t know how that happened. She doesn’t know what our father did and she never will.
I push against his broad chest, and maybe in surprise, he takes a half step back. “I said no, Shane.”
And then he does something horrible—he laughs. The most disturbing thing about that laugh is that I’ve heard it before. It doesn’t sound particularly sinister. It’s an ordinary, fun-loving laugh from an ordinary, fun-loving guy, except he’s laughing about something dark and twisted.
“No one will care,” he says. “You’ve been dating me for months.”
My chest feels tight. I’ve been in this situation before, with a man who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Last time I had a protector. I had Giovanni, but I’m alone now. “Stop,” I say. “This isn’t you.”
His lips brush over my cheek. “You don’t really know me.”
Then I feel his hands on my legs, pushing up. I shove my skirt down, but I’m no match for him. The cold air rushes between my legs—and then this hand is there, groping, feeling, taking.
No, I won’t let this happen. I make fists and hit him anywhere I can reach: his shoulders, his neck. Only when I manage to get the bruise on his face does he swear roughly. It seems to enrage him. Hard hands shove me back into the wall. The brick catches me in its cold net. My breath rushes out of me. Spots dance in front of my eyes.
Shane leans back to reach for his zipper.
A blur flashes in the corner of my eye, something dark and fast.
It crashes into Shane, and they slide along the gravel into the shadows. The sound of fists smacking flesh makes me wince. My hands shake as I cover my mouth. Oh God, this is just like before. Except I don’t know who had come after Shane. A stranger? I can’t see into the deep part of the alley, and I’m not getting any closer than I have to.
Without even meaning to, I take a step back toward the street. Then I turn, and I’m running to the entrance. The bouncer’s still there. Amy, too.
“Someone’s fighting,” I manage, breathless. “In the alley. Please help them.”