12. Camryn

TWELVE

CAMRYN

Seated on the fountain steps before class, we watch the students mill about the courtyard, some with their eyes buried in their phones and others with books clasped to their chests.

Overhead, clouds slowly move across the sky.

"I can't believe he's dead," Gwen says, her voice as distant as her gaze.

No one says a thing.

It feels like a cruel joke that we're all here and forced to attend classes after two college students are dead. The world never stops, not even for a brief second.

His hatred for you really is delicious.

The words play on repeat in my head. I'm going crazy, wondering if I heard him correctly, wondering if I'm finally losing my mind in this relentless heat. Weird things happen in this small town.

"I wish he would have talked to us," Lily says in a quiet voice that I would have missed if she wasn't seated beside me.

Aron stiffens, lifting his gaze. The pain I see there squeezes my chest. "He wasn't suicidal."

"That's not what I meant."

"No? Then what the fuck did you mean?"

"You were there… He shot himself?—"

"Shut up!" he snaps, and Lily shrinks back. Tears cling to her lashes when she drops her gaze to her lap.

A shadow settles over us as the sun disappears behind the clouds, and I peer up at the darkening sky, then let my eyes drift to a nearby tree. A warm breeze sweeps through the leaves.

"Let's not argue," Gwen pleads. "We don't know what happened?—"

"Benny wasn't suicidal," Aron grits out. "Sure, we don't know what the fuck happened, but that thing up on the roof…wasn't Benny."

Lily's hair shields her face as she sniffles beside me.

Seated on her other side, Brittany wraps her arm around her shoulders. "What are you saying, Aron? That someone else made him push Erica off the roof?"

Gwen winces.

"Not someone," Aron answers, gritting his teeth before peering overhead at the rolling clouds. "Something."

The wind picks up, and with it comes the sound of leaves rustling. Shivers work their way down my spine as I tear my eyes away, meeting his accusatory gaze.

"The séance," he states, staring at me dead on.

Gwen speaks up. "You think the séance caused it?"

Aron doesn't look away, his black hair moving in the breeze. "I think we welcomed something in."

A sycamore leaf drifts across the steps, propelled forward by the singing wind. I watch it twirl and pirouette, dancing over Lily's shins.

"Demons don't exist," she says, drawing her legs up and wrapping her arms around her knees.

The leaf takes flight and carries on its journey.

Aron glares at her before shooting to his feet and striding off. We watch him enter the building, his broad shoulders disappearing through the doorway.

Gwen blows out a breath and lets her head fall back against the fountain. "Everything is such a fucking mess."

"Do you think he's right?" Brittany asks, looking between us. "Do you think we caused this?"

"We didn't cause this," Gwen says in a firm tone. "Whatever happened isn't our fault."

Lily swipes at her wet cheeks before rising to her feet and picking up her bag. She shoulders it, staring at the cracks in the steps beneath her feet. "I didn't mean anything bad by what I said."

"We know," Gwen says, pulling her in for a hug. "Aron knows it, too. He just… Emotions are running high."

I meet Brittany's gaze but look away.

His hatred for you is delicious.

What if Aron was right? What if there's something more sinister at play? Weird things have occurred ever since my family arrived in this small town. It can't be a coincidence that Benny pushed Erica off the roof a week after the séance before committing suicide.

I keep my thoughts to myself as we rise to our feet and set off toward the entrance. But the tense air surrounding my friends is palpable. We're all thinking the same thing.

What if we invited something in?

"Why don't you go ahead," I say to Gwen when we pass the bathroom. "I need to pee before class."

It's not true. I just need a moment alone.

"Sure." She offers me a small, sad smile.

I wait until they turn the corner before shouldering my way into the piss-smelling bathroom and locking myself inside the nearest stall. My arm itches, and the sensation of crawling insects beneath the skin has me sucking in a breath.

"It's all in my head," I whisper, hands flat against the graffitied door. "It's just in my fucking head. Get it together."

Sweat beads on my lip. Why is it so stifling? I can't breathe in this fucking place.

Something drifts through the gap between the stall and the floor. I peer down, distracted, watching a sycamore leaf move across the floor on an imaginary breeze.

Every muscle locks tight, and a small sob escapes my lips. My spine connects with the wall when I step back.

"Camryn…" a voice whispers.

The eerie sound floats through the stalls.

I hold my breath as a bead of sweat trails down my temple.

Another whisper seeps through the muggy air. "Camryn…"

I look down at the leaf before slowly lowering myself to the sticky floor on my hands and knees, my heart pounding in the silence as I peer beneath the partition. Empty stalls stretch out in front of me, a row of lone toilets providing stark splashes of white in this dim room. I'm alone.

"CAMRYN!" the voice shouts, and I shoot upright.

Digging my nails into my palms, I allow the sharp bite of pain to anchor me before I turn to unlock the stall door.

People die like this in horror movies—investigating strange noises. Unfortunately, I can't stay locked in the toilet stall all day.

When the door creaks open, I peek through the gap, then slowly inch outside. The door nearest the wall is closed. Something is in there. Every nerve ending in my body knows it. I can sense the thickening air around it as I skirt the room, keeping as much distance as possible.

Silence presses in from all corners, drowning out the passing conversations in the hallway until I hear nothing except my roaring pulse. I'm hyperaware of the stall beneath the small window, which barely allows daylight into the room.

I keep my eyes on the door as I reach out behind me to skim my fingers over the small sinks, one after the other. Despite the terror growing with each step, I continue toward the stall. Curiosity cares little for survival.

My hand knocks against something. I snatch it back and spin around. "What the..." I gulp, seeing the doll propped up on the sink, watching me with its beady eyes. I take a careful step backward when a bead of dark red blood pours from the crack in the porcelain, and I let out a choked sob.

Behind me, the stall door creaks open, shattering the thick silence that sucks the air out of the room. A panicked sob crawls up my throat, but before it can echo off the walls, a strong hand grabs me and spins me around.

"What the fuck, Camryn?"

Caught in Dominic's dark eyes, I gulp down breaths.

"What the hell is wrong?" His gaze coasts over my face and he scans the room before looking back at me with a furrowed brow. "Why are you freaking out?"

"The stall," I choke out, and Dominic looks past my shoulder. He releases me and stalks up to it. I spin around, intending to hide the doll before he can see it, but it's gone.

I stare at the empty sink. Where the hell did it go? It was there a minute ago. I crouch down as if I'll find it on the floor.

Behind me, Dominic slams the stall door open with such force my heart jumps. The last thing I need is to be caught in his storm when my mind is this fragile. I run for the exit, but I barely make it three steps before his muscular arm bands around my waist and lifts me off the floor. "Where are you going, Sis?"

Kicking out with my feet, I flail and scream as he clamps his free hand over my mouth to muffle the haunted sound.

"Nothing quite turns me on like your fight."

I'm dragged into the nearest stall and dropped onto the toilet seat. Dominic swiftly undoes his belt, and then his hand is in my hair, yanking my head back. I try to stand when he frees his dick, but he shoves me back down and thrusts his hard length against my lips. "What's going on inside that fucked-up head of yours, huh?"

I sneer, but the sound soon cuts off when he tightens his grip on my hair. It fucking hurts.

"Less with the attitude." He grips his shaft and smacks the crown against my lips, his gaze riveted on the burning fury in mine.

"I'm not going crazy," I bite out.

He slides his large hand over his cock as he chuckles low in his chest. "No? Care to explain why you were freaking out inside an empty bathroom?"

"Something was inside that stall."

His cock bumps up against my lips again, and I dig my nails into his thighs in a weak attempt to push him off. Though I'm not sure I want to stop him.

"I've been thinking," he drawls, coaxing my lips to open with a bead of precum. "I need to get you out of my head. I don't know what the fuck you're doing to me, but it's pissing me the hell off."

"Anyone could walk in, Dom," I remind him.

"Shut the fuck up!" He slides his veiny dick into my mouth, making me gag around his length as I dig my nails into his jeans, struggling for something to hold on to.

"We both know you're a pro at deep-throating, so quit the innocent act. Be good for me and swallow my dick."

His fingers tangle in my hair, and he grunts when I relax my throat around his throbbing length.

"That's it, little home wrecker," he praises, rolling his hips. "Now let me hear you choke while I fuck your tight throat."

My nails catch in his jeans as he goes to town, ramming his cock down my throat and pulling my hair. It's vicious, designed to inflict pain and humiliation—I relish every twisted second.

I find my sanity in his madness. This punishment.

With his cock throbbing deep in my throat and his long fingers tearing at my hair, I can finally let go.

Relief floods through me as I release a sob.

"Fuck, look at me. I love your tears." Dominic swipes them away with his thumb and then traces my lips around his cock. He slowly slides his length out to the tip before thrusting back in roughly.

My gagging is obnoxiously loud in the quiet bathroom.

"You're so fucking pathetic." Huffing a laugh, he buries his cock deep and holds me to his crotch. "First, you go after my dad, and now your mouth is stuffed full of my dick." He releases me, and I shove him away, crying angrily.

"You know nothing," I sneer, fighting him off when he reaches for me, but I'm no match to his resentment.

"I know everything. Now fucking choke on it!" He rams his cock inside my mouth again, and my clit pulses almost painfully. The more his rage radiates off him like heatwaves, the more aroused I get. Dominic's hatred is my tailor-made aphrodisiac.

"I bet you wished my dad would have fucked your face this brutally, huh? You should have gone straight for his son." He pushes me away and then grips my jaw and slams his lips to mine, invading my mouth with his hungry tongue and sanity-stealing, heated breaths.

A whimper climbs up my throat, and he devours it as he kisses me to the brink of the sweetest abyss. One push, one simple shove, and I would disappear.

I kiss him back with equal fervor and claw at his T-shirt, shoving it up his chest until I can stroke my fingers across his smooth stomach.

"Don't ever touch me without my permission, understood?"

His words from the other night swirl through my mind and a sense of satisfaction floods through me as my fingers trace the ridges of his contracting abdomen. Dominic is perfection. Cut from stone.

Curling his fingers around my wrist, he peels mine away with a snarl that sinks straight to my core. His rejection stings, a sharp burn at the backs of my eyes. Tears cling to my lashes as he straightens up and guides his length to my mouth. When he taps my lips with his cock, I shoot to my feet.

I try to move past him, but he grabs hold of my arm, slams me up against the wall, and shoves my shorts down my legs. Then he straightens up and grips my hair hard, whispering in my ear, "Step out of them."

Maybe I should put up a fight, but I don't. Instead, my shorts fall to my ankles as I wiggle my butt.

Dominic steals the air from my lungs with his heat against my back and his punishing grip on my hair. He kicks my ankles apart and impales me on his cock in one go, with an arm banded around my waist and the other in my hair to keep my cheek squished against the sticky wall.

"Fuck," I cry out, clamping around his cock.

"Shut up! This is for me," he sneers, fucking me brutally against the hard surface. "You owe me this for stealing my family."

"It wasn't my fault," I choke out, poised on my tiptoes.

"If you speak another fucking word, I'll fuck all your holes and in no particular order. Now shut up and let me take what's owed to me."

Tears fall silently down my cheeks while he takes me so hard I lose my breath. At one point, the door opens, and a group of girls enter, but Dominic never stops his sweet assault on my body. No, he clamps his hand over my mouth and whispers filth in my ear—words that should appall me but light a fire in my core instead. Words that are meant to humiliate and degrade but somehow build me up.

No one else can offer me this level of fucked up.

"Don't come," he warns in my ear when my pussy clamps down on his dick.

I try to hold the wave back, but I'm hanging on by a thin thread. The way he digs his fingers into my hips before smacking my ass, combined with his lips on my neck, steals the breath from my lungs. I don't stand a chance. He's a wrecking ball.

"Don't fucking think about it." He pulls out just as I'm about to fall over the edge. I whimper, my clit aching and desperate for release.

After maneuvering me around, he bends me over the toilet with my legs on either side of the seat. He grabs my neck and sinks back inside me torturously slowly, ensuring I feel the glide of his thick length.

"You should see the cream on my dick."

As if to prove his point, he pulls out and runs his hand over his slick length before holding his wet palm over my mouth and nose. Then he enters me again, fucking me until I'm delirious. It never ends. Dominic is a machine.

Every time I'm about to climax, he pulls out and waits for the wave to recede before building me back up. When I think I might pass out, he spins me around, shoves me onto the toilet seat, and pulls down my tank top.

Warm cum rains over my naked tits, branding me with sin.

I can barely hold my head up. I'm exhausted. Dominic's tight grip on my hair keeps me upright. Grunting, he milks his dick, painting my swollen breasts.

"Fucking perfection," he drawls as the last spurt of cum drips down my chest. He roughly palms my breast and smears his release over my skin while I gaze up at him. "Are you ever going to let me come?"

"Do you think you deserve it?"

I shake my head as he slides his middle and ring finger into my mouth, dragging the pads over my tongue.

"I want to hear you say it." Removing his digits, he grabs my throat.

"I don't deserve to come," I admit.

Something flashes in his eyes, and then he shoves me back and zips his dick away. "I'm driving you home. Don't be late after school." He walks out, leaving me alone with an ache in my chest.

I place my feet on the toilet seat and wrap my arms around my knees. Dominic is breaking me piece by piece. I want more despite the pain or the choked sob clawing its way up my throat.

I need more.

Propping my chin on my knees, I stare at the sycamore leaf on the dirty floor.

A haunted whisper seeps through the walls. "Camryn..."