Chapter 13

thirteen

I limped across the kitchen, each step sending shockwaves of pain through my battered body. I hadn't seen Grayson for days after he gave me that cursed journal. I should have known that peace wouldn't last.

A floorboard squeaked behind me. I whirled around, my heart leaping into my throat. There he stood, a towering figure cloaked in darkness. Why was he always here?!

I stumbled backward, desperate to put distance between us. "Stay away from me," I hissed, my voice trembling despite my attempt at bravery.

He tilted his head, regarding me with that unnerving stillness. Then, in a blur of motion, he closed the gap between us. His hand clamped around my arm, fingers digging into my flesh. I cried out, more from surprise than pain, as he lifted me effortlessly.

The world spun, and suddenly, I found myself perched on the kitchen counter. Grayson loomed over me, his masked face inches from mine. I could feel the heat of his breath and smell the leather of his gloves as his fingers dug into my hips.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, panic rising in my chest. "Let me go!"

He didn't respond. Instead, he leaned into me, using his weight to pin me down. The pressure on my pelvis was excruciating. Something shifted inside me, a sickening pop that sent waves of agony through my body.

I bit back a scream, refusing to give him the satisfaction. But tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, betraying my pain. Grayson's hand came up, his thumb brushing away a tear with a gentleness that felt obscene given the circumstances.

"Why are you doing this?" I whispered, searching his eyes for any hint of humanity. "What do you want from me?"

His other hand trailed down my side, coming to rest on my thigh. The touch was almost tender, a stark contrast to the crushing weight on my broken pelvis. I shuddered, torn between revulsion and a twisted kind of anticipation.

Grayson's fingers tightened on my thigh, and I braced myself for more pain. But instead, he simply held me there, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

I gripped the edge of the counter, my knuckles turning white as Grayson's weight pressed further against me. The pain in my pelvis was unbearable, and I tried to focus on anything else - the peeling wallpaper, the dripping faucet, the distant hum of the refrigerator - but Grayson commanded all of my attention.

I could feel his breath, hot and heavy, against my cheek. My heart raced, a frantic drumbeat in my chest.

Suddenly, he eased off slightly. The relief was immediate but short-lived. His gaze never left mine as he pushed down again, harder this time. A whimper escaped my lips before I could stop it.

The pressure increased, slowly, deliberately. Grayson's eyes narrowed, watching my every reaction. It hit me then - he was testing me, pushing me to my limits. The realization sent a chill down my spine.

I tried to hold back, to deny him the satisfaction, but the pain became too much. A scream tore from my throat, raw and primal. Grayson's eyes lit up, a twisted pleasure evident in their depths.

He didn't let go. The pressure remained constant, unyielding. Tears streamed down my face as sobs wracked my body. I trembled beneath him, my strength fading with each passing moment.

Through the haze of pain and fear, something else stirred within me. A feeling so wrong, so twisted, that I wanted to claw it out of my chest. Despite everything - the torture, the terror - a part of me was drawn to Grayson. The realization made me sick to my stomach.

I hated myself for it. How could I feel anything but revulsion for this monster? And yet, there it was - a dark, primal attraction that I couldn't deny. It terrified me more than any physical pain ever could.

Grayson's eyes seemed to soften, almost imperceptibly. The pressure eased once more, and I gasped for air. His gaze held a new expression now, one that sent a shiver through me. Approval. Satisfaction.

"Good… girl."

And then, as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. The sudden absence of his weight left me feeling strangely bereft. I slumped against the counter, my entire body shaking uncontrollably.

The kitchen felt cavernous and empty without his presence. The silence was deafening, broken only by my ragged breaths and quiet sobs. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stop the trembling, but it was useless.

My mind raced, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The pain in my pelvis throbbed in time with my heartbeat. But it was the other feeling - that unwanted attraction - that truly frightened me.

I closed my eyes, willing it all to be a nightmare. But when I opened them again, nothing had changed. The kitchen was still empty, my body still ached, and the memory of Grayson's touch lingered on my skin.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat. Was this what madness felt like? To be torn between fear and desire, pain and pleasure? I pressed my hands to my face, trying to ground myself in reality.

But reality had become a nightmare, and Grayson was at its center. He was remaking me, bit by bit, push by push. And the most terrifying part was that a small, dark part of me welcomed it.