Whatever the hell that means.
“I was ready to let you go, but you pissed me off, so I changed my mind.”
I watch his poker face closely. Aside from the slight twitching in his left eye, he looks peaceful to me.
Not pissed off at all.
But then again, what the hell did I know about Aiden’s body language? He’s like a fort.
Impossible to climb, to peer over, or to destroy.
“Then change it back,” I mumble.
“That’s not how it works.”
“Let me go and I won’t tell anyone,” I say in my most neutral tone.
“Is that so?” His fingers draw small circles inside my thighs, and I clench my fists against the sensation.
I bite back the discomfort and the freaking tingling. “Yes. I only want to finish this year in peace.”
“What makes you think I want you to have any peace, Frozen?” He grips my sex harshly. “You were born to suffer.”
I cry out at the intrusive gesture. A zap bolts straight from where he’s gripping me to my entire body.
Aiden is watching me with those sadistic eyes. Only now, the glint is becoming darker. Hazier. Stronger.
He loves having this effect on me. He’s getting high on it.
Like a drug addict who can’t get enough, he seems ready for more.
The harder I refuse, the more drastic his methods become.
It started with demanding my phone then he wanted me to call him by his last name then he wanted me to apologise.
Whenever I say ‘no’, his assault becomes relentless.
Ruthless.
Remorseless.
I’m provoking a monster.
A full-blown monster.
During my years of struggle against bullies, I learnt to never give them what they want. If I acknowledge their bullying or show them I give a damn about what they did, it’d give them the incentive to push harder.
Aiden is darker than the usual bully, but he’s still a bully all the same.
Only he doesn’t want those apologies or for me to beg or even the damn phone. He wants my struggle.
He wants my helplessness.
My weakness.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt and try to mean it.
He pauses his ministrations for a second, but he doesn’t release my sex. His gaze meets mine and his left eye twitches before he presses his thumb on my clitoris above the cloth.
My legs shake and I briefly close my eyes, willing the feeling to go the fuck away. I shouldn’t be affected by whatever this monster is doing.
“Why did you say that?” he asks.
“You told me to apologise.”
“You don’t mean it.” He leans closer and whispers in hot breaths against my ear, his voice amused. “Did you seriously think I’d fall for that, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart?
Sweet-fucking-heart?
It takes everything in me not to let my anger seethe to the surface. I want to push him so badly, but I know it’ll only give him the upper hand.
Aiden’s type gets off on hysterics. It’s their driving force.
I level my tone. “I apologised as you asked.”
“Apology denied.” He muses. “You of all people don’t get to play games with me.”
You of all people? What the hell is that supposed to mean?
“You said you’d let me go. This isn’t fair.”
“Who said anything about fair, hmm?”
How am I supposed to win if he keeps changing the rules?
An idea flashes in my head. It’s something I learnt from old Chinese war books.
When cornered, use your opponent’s attack mechanism.
“What do you want, Aiden?” I soften my tone. “Tell me.”
There must be something he wants. If he asked me the question then he must already have an answer of his own.
“Let me guess.” He smiles without humour. “You’ll make it happen?”
“If you let me go.” It’s a dangerous game and he might decide to not play fair again.
“You never cry.” He observes me, sliding his thumb back and forth over my clit.
I clamp my lips against the sound trying to claw its way through. I want him to stop, but I also want something else.
What, I don’t know.
“Why do you never cry, Frozen?” he asks with an almost gentle tone.
I want to tell him I do cry, just not in front of him or any of his bully minions, but I keep that information to myself.
If I get worked up around him, it’s game over.
“These eyes should be filled with fucking tears.”
“Aiden, seriously, what the hell is your problem?”
“Cry and I’ll let you go.” He deadpans. “You have to be convincing, though.”
My lips part. Is he serious?
“I won’t cry.”
He tightens his grip on my sex, and I whimper. Pain shoots through my core along with something else I don’t want to think about.
“Hmm. I’ll be generous and give you the right for two moves. Either cry or we can stand here all day and I’ll see how far I can take your sexual assault report.”
I look over his shoulder, desperately trying to find anyone. But I should’ve known better. Kim purposefully chooses this place because no one wanders this far in the back garden.
When I stare back at Aiden, he’s watching me with a strange mixture of emotions. Interest? Curiosity? Hate? I don’t know what it is, but I need this freaking psychopath as far away from me as possible.
If crying will push him away then so be it.
“Do you need me to count to three?” he asks.
“Tears don’t come on demand.” I can’t help but snap. I’m too angry and flustered to just cry.
“Let me help.” Still gripping my core, he uses my bound hands to push me back until my breasts thrust in his face.
He glares at the scar as if it’s a person he loathes.
“This should’ve killed you.” His warm breath tickles against my skin and goosebumps erupt in its wake. “You should’ve died, Frozen.”
My nose tingles and pressure builds behind my eyes.
With a few words, he thrust me back to my child-self. To the fear. The helplessness. The unknown.
He’s right. That heart surgery almost killed me. But that’s not the reason behind my unshed tears.
It’s the memories surrounding the surgery — or the lack thereof.
The reason I hate the scar so much isn’t because of the surgery or the non-aesthetic appearance.
It’s because the scar is a reminder that everything before it is blank.
All I have left are nightmares and phobias and a distant reminder that I once had parents.
The scar represents that missing part of me.
Before I can try to seal those emotions into their dark box, Aiden bites on the flesh of my breast. I cry out as his teeth sink into the skin and then he sucks and bites along the scar with such animosity that leaves me breathless.
And terrified.
It’s like he wants to bite the skin off.
Unleash those memories.
The nightmares.
The smoke and the flames.
And the blood… so much fucking blood.
“Aiden, s-stop.”
He doesn’t.
He continues feasting on my skin like he’s a cannibal.
Everything will be out.