Pretty Little Things

Chapter 8 - Annabel

“So what is it? You’re a slut, a junkie, your momma forcing you to turn tricks to feed her habits?” Colin asked as he brushed by me, coldness in his eyes.

“What? No. None of those things. I swear.” I tucked my wild honey-blond hair behind my ear as I looked to the ground.

He eyed me suspiciously, and I shrank under his accusatory glare. “It’s got to be something.”

“M-my mom…wanted me to learn to help others in need,” I stuttered, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

“You’re telling me that you were pulled off the streets and brought here? Kidnapped?”

“Oh God.” My hand flew over my mouth as my heart leapt into my throat. I knew something was wrong. “He’s not going to let us leave, is he?”

He sank down in the chair in front of me, his chin in his hand as he stared at me for an uncomfortably long moment. Why was it bothering him so much that I wasn’t a depraved junkie? And why wasn’t he upset, scared, and wracked with panic right now?

“You can’t even spit out a goddamn sentence. You made it too easy for him.” He shook his head angrily. “Here we don’t pray for the weak—we prey on the weak.”

“Are you staying in bed all day?”

I yawned and stretched before glancing over my shoulder as I lay facedown on my bed. Colin was leaning against the doorframe, his head cocked to the side. “Don’t you ever knock?”

“Close your door if you want me to knock,” he chuckled as he sauntered into my bedroom. “People are going to start showing up soon. Get ready.”

“I don’t feel like it.” I rested my chin on my fist as I stared at my headboard, still wallowing in self-pity over my fight with Jacob. I’d texted him several times asking him to come to the party, and he’d reluctantly agreed, but now I was worried about him meeting my family. Colin’s fingers wrapped around my bare ankle, and he began pulling me toward the foot of the bed.

“Damn it! Let go of me.” I clutched at the comforter as he continued to drag me down the mattress, causing my shirt to ride high on my stomach.

“A lot of work went into this party.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me from the bed as I kicked at him and struggled to pry his arms off me. “So stop acting like a spoiled bitch and get ready.”

“You’re such a jerk!”

He carried me toward the bathroom and put me down inside the shower stall, blocking the doorway as I pounded my fists against his chest.

“This isn’t funny. Let me out of here.”

“There’s the easy way,” he said, and with a wicked grin he reached forward and turned on the water full blast. “And there’s my way.”

“You asshole!” I pressed myself against the sandstone tile as I struggled to get out from under the cool spray, the oversized white T-shirt I was wearing and my dark-blue panties getting soaked. “I’m still wearing clothes.” The thin fabric clung to my curves, and I knew it immediately had become see-through. My teeth began to chatter, and I gripped either shoulder trying to keep warm.

His gaze drifted over my body as he laughed. “I told you to stop stealing my shirts.” He narrowed his eyes as they settled on my bruised face.

I turned my back to him and peeled the wet fabric from my skin, tossing it over my shoulder as hard as I could. He caught it as it hit his chest, never breaking eye contact.

The doorbell rang, and I jumped, nearly slipping as it startled me.

“You have fifteen minutes.” He closed the door to the shower and disappeared.