6

Chapter 6

The Locked Door

Clarissa's POV

I think I'm kind of stuck in this awkward situation, and the fact that Clinton’s tone was commanding and he locked the door behind him…the click of the door, sent cold shivers down my spine. I knew I wouldn't get out, and the worst part of it all was that my head was aching from the drink's effect.

Really no way to escape this pervert! I was trapped.

The way he asked it, his voice wrapped in false concern, filled with calculations and schemings, made my stomach turn. Of course I knew he was pretending.

I forced a weak smile, my lips trembling as I said, “Thank you so much, Clinton, for caring about me. But I’m fine; you don’t have to follow me around, okay? You don’t have to act as if nothing happened today… as if you didn’t betray me, as if you didn’t cheat on me.” My voice cracked on the last word. “Now, you need to get out of this female restroom immediately.”

I didn’t have time for his silly games right now. I reached for the door handle, desperate for fresh air; I needed distance, but before my fingers could wrap around the cold metal, his hand shot out at me.

His grip was hot and firm, pulling me back, and in a blink he’d turned me around, my back slamming into the wall with a dull thud. I was pinned to the wall.

“Not at all, Clarissa. I can’t go now,” he murmured, his eyes narrowing.

His expression wasn’t the Clinton I’d known before; it was darker, edged with something twisted.

I shoved at his chest. “Oh, please, can you stop? Are you drunk or something? Just leave me alone. Why are you following me around? You told me to get out of your apartment, remember? Well, I’m not there. I’m in a restroom. You have to obey your own rules.”

A smirk tugged at his lips, but there was no humor in it. “No. I can’t leave you alone, not until you give me what you owe me.”

I froze. His words crawled under my skin like ice. My temples throbbed again, that same sharp, dizzy ache from the drink pulsing harder. My vision swam, the edges of the room were blurring, but I gritted my teeth, holding onto the sink for balance.

My breathing quickened immediately. “What… the hell… are you talking about?” I asked, each word dragged out with effort.

He stepped forward, closing the space between us, his presence suffocating. “Clarissa, you think you can run away from me? Sure, I rejected you, but we’ve been together for years. High school… the late-night calls… the dates. I waited for you and was patient with your virginity.” His eyes gleamed with something feral. “But now? We’re in college. And you owe me.”

He raised a brow, watching for my reaction like a predator.

I tried to push past him, but my legs felt heavier with every second, my strength draining as though the air itself was thickening. “I owe you my virginity?” My voice was incredulous, shaking. “Can you hear yourself, Clinton? Stop this! Just stop it. Get out and leave me alone.”

I fought to keep my balance, but his words slithered into my head, making my stomach churn.

“Now, my prude ex-girlfriend,” he sneered, “your virginity is mine. I have to have it before anyone else.”

His hand darted forward, pressing my shoulder into the wall again, and I could smell the faint sting of wine on his breath.

“What are you doing, Clinton? Are you out of your mind?” My voice rose, panic spiking through me. “You know I told you I wanted to wait until I was ready. That’s not a crime. That’s not wrong! But then you cheated on me and asked me to leave!”

But he only leaned closer, his lips grazing my ear. “Oh, come on, Clarissa… Don’t pretend to be such a fucking prude. You wore this dress because you wanted to be fucked. And I’m going to give it to you, right here, right now. Guess what? Nobody’s coming to save you. Not even your stupid step-cousin, Damien.”

The mention of Damien sent a chill through my blood, a flicker of desperate hope snuffed out just as fast. And for a moment I just wished that he would be here.

“I know you’re living with him,” Clinton went on, his tone sharp, bitter. “And if you think I’m going to let him have you before me, you’re wrong. I will have you first.”

He pressed his palm to my throat; he was just holding me there like a silent threat. With his other hand, he began fumbling with his belt buckle, the metallic clink of it snapping in my ears like a gunshot.

“No! Let me go!” My voice was hoarse, my body twisting, but my limbs felt sluggish. The drug in my system was eating away at my strength. “Leave me alone! Somebody help me!”

I kept struggling, my hands clawing at his arm, nails scraping against his skin, but it was like trying to fight a wall.

Then

BANG!

The door slammed open with such force it rattled against the tiled wall.

“Let her go. Now.”

The deep voice cut through the air like a blade.

I looked up and it was….