The tension at the table was suffocating. I sat between the two most important men in my life, and I felt like I was losing my mind. Joe was on my left, happily eating and talking about his week, while Mason sat on my right, looking like the perfect, polite host.But under the table, it was a different story.Mason’s hand was back exactly where it wanted to be. He didn't even look at me; he kept eye contact with my dad, nodding along to his stories, while his fingers worked inside me with a slow, cruel rhythm. Every time he pushed deeper, I had to grip the edge of my seat to keep from falling off the stool.Suddenly, he hit that same spot from earlier, and a loud, sharp moan escaped my lips."Nina?" Dad stopped talking, his fork halfway to his mouth. He looked at me with worried eyes. "Sweet bean, what's wrong? You okay?"I felt my face turn bright red. Mason’s fingers didn't stop; if anything, he started moving them faster, teasing me because he knew I couldn't scream."I... I’m fine
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