Page 77 of Shattered In Darkness

There’s a pulse in my ears. Not even a heartbeat. Just static. I look at Brody and there’s nothing there except cold, savage hunger. Everything inside me curls, shrinks. My mouth is open, waiting for a scream or maybe a laugh because this has to be a joke. But Brody’s eyes are wild and furious.

I yank my hands but he doesn’t let go. My wrists ache in the clamp of his fingers.

“That’s not possible,” I say. “You’re not like this. You can’t be like this. You were supposed to be different.”

He laughs. He fucking laughs. Hands tightening until I feel bones grind. “I was never different. You just looked away.”

He’s too close. I can feel his anger. I can feel my own shame, rising off me like heat. His grip jerks me off balance. I tumble to the floor, knees banging against the edge of the cot. He stands over me, not even winded. Like it cost him nothing to wreck me. Like he could do it forever.

I try to catch my breath. “Brody. Please. Let go. We can talk about this.”

He crouches. “You’re not getting it, Bambi,” he says. Velvety, smug. “There’s no talking. You don’t get a voice anymore. You just get me.” A pause, like he’s savoring it. “Just like always.”

It’s too much. I want—I don’t even know what I want. For this to stop. For him to touch me and never stop. To kill me. To hold me. All at once.

I want my sweet Brody back.

He drags me to my feet by the wrists. My legs fold. He presses me against the concrete wall, harder. “This isn’t you,” I try again, softer, pleading. “I loved you. You can’t hate me like this. You can’t.”

“I told you. I don’t do half-measures.” His hand fists in my hair. He yanks my head back and I see stars behind my eyelids. “You ruined me, Lola. I’m just paying you back.”

I’m crying but not the normal way. No hiccups. No sobs. Just water leaking out of me, silent, endless.

He touches my jaw. Tender at first, then mean. His thumb rubs my bruised skin. “You’re scared of me?” I shake my head. Of course I am. He sees the lie and his smile widens. “You should be. I’m not the boy you remember. I’m what’s left.”

His fingers dig into my neck, just above the pulse. I can’t breathe. My legs kick but it does nothing.

He shoves me to the mattress, and the world stutters. I hit the mattress so hard my ribs shriek and the springs bite into my back. Brody stands over me, cloaked in shadows, nothing left of the boy from my past. Just a monster in a man shape, eyes so stormy they’re almost ice, almost dead.

I can’t breathe.

He’s on me in an instant. Hands on my wrists. Pinning me down, shoving them overhead like I’m a specimen and he needs every inch exposed. His weight crushes my knees open. My thighs tremble, heat and horror knot together in my stomach.

He leans in close. The mask is gone, but his face is a mask now. Blank and beautiful and ruined. “You remember how this feels?” His voice is a wreck. “You used to beg for it. Not so tough now, Bambi.”

I kick out, catch nothing but air. His knee jams my thigh, clamping me flat. The hand not on my wrist slides down my bruised throat. He traces the marks Marcus left, then bruises of his own doing. He presses until I almost black out, then lets go, just enough to make the next breath sting. He wants to murder me and fuck me at the same time.

“Why’d you let him do it, Lola? Why’d you let him wreck everything?” He shakes me like he wants to break my neck. “You should have fought for me. You should have fucking died for me.”

My whole body shakes under his weight. My body remembers him. Worse, I want him. I want his mouth and his hands, even as I want him dead.

He shoves my shirt up, tearing straight through the fabric, and exposing my skin, belly, ripped bra. I try to claw his hands but he pins me harder. My breath comes in wet gasps and his palm covers my mouth.

My nose flares. I choke, panic spiking. My nails scrape desperately at his arm, but he doesn’t flinch. He grinds against me, cock hard through the thin pants. I can feel it, hot where everything else is cold. I try to buck him off.

There’s no mercy here.

“Tell me the truth.” His words sink into my pulse. “Tell me or I’ll tear you apart.”

I want to hate him. I want to love him. I squirm. He likes how it looks. The choke in my body. The fear. The memory of old wanting, spoiled and left to rot inside me.

Brody drags his hand up my ribs, flat-palmed and mean. His thumb circles my bruised skin, the way a wolf might savor blood on fur. He waits for me to flinch. I always do. He grins, his mouth gleaming in the shadows. The same mouth I used to kiss, to dream about.

Now they’re just another monster’s lips, waiting to bite me in half.

“Fuck off, I don’t know you. You’re not my Brody, you’re not him,” I say. Wrecked and ruined.

Tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. He yanks my jaw, making me look at him. His eyes have gone dark, no softness, no light. Not my Brody. Not anymore.