Pursued(133)

“You…” Elise’s grief turned suddenly to rage and she looked up at the hateful, handsome face bending over hers. “You bastard. You did it on purpose—I saw you.”

“Now, princess, is that any way to talk? You’re just traumatized right now—anyone would be after losing their, uh, pet.” He nudged Buck’s limp form with the toe of one Italian leather loafer distastefully. “In fact, after witnessing such an awful tragedy, there’s no telling what your addled little brain might make up. You might imagine anything—anything at all.”

Elise felt suddenly cold all over. “What…what do you mean?”

“I mean it’s time you came with me.” Reaching down, Charles hooked one hard hand under her arm and pulled her up, forcing her to leave Buck’s lifeless body behind.

Elise began to panic. “What are you doing? Take your hands off me.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Slowly but surely Charles began dragging her toward the house.

“Let me go!” Elise tried to fight him but she still felt weak with grief. She kept expecting Buck to come to her rescue and then remembering all over again that he couldn’t, that he was dead… “Let me go,” she insisted again. “Where’s Mom?”

“I sent her and several of her friends for a spa weekend.” Charles grinned at her, his eyes flashing in a predatory way that made Elise’s skin crawl. “She won’t be back until Sunday night, so we have the whole house to ourselves. Isn’t that nice?”

“No, it’s horrible.” They were reaching the door now and somehow Elise knew if her stepfather got her inside the house, there would be no coming out, no turning back until it was too late. Panic flooded her again and she pulled backward with all her strength, finally managing to break his hold. Turning, she stumbled across the front lawn, running blindly, trying to get away…

She didn’t even make it off the lawn before Charles tackled her, knocking the wind from her lungs and flattening her against the short, springy grass. She could feel him across her back, heavy as a mattress, the hard, hot lump of his cock grinding against her inner thighs.

“Remember how I told you we were going to have our moment?” he asked, panting in her ear. His breath was hot and smelled like stale cigarettes and scotch, making her gag. “Well that moment is now, princess. And believe me, I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.” He kicked her legs apart and ripped up her skirt.

“No!” Elise writhed against him, knowing it was too late. No one could hear her, no one could see past the thick hedge. She was trapped…trapped and there was no escape, but still she couldn’t help struggling, pleading… “Don’t do this, Charles. Please, don't! Please, I—”

“STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!”

The strangely familiar voice seemed to echo in her head. Elise looked around, blinking as the scene melted around her like a chalk drawing melting in the rain. Everything—her stepfather, Buck’s lifeless body, the huge Tudor-style house—all suddenly disappeared.

Where am I? she thought, feeling disorientated. What’s happening? Where…who…?

“Stop it, I said.”

She blinked and a large, familiar form came into focus. Merrick—it’s Merrick. But what is he doing here? Where are Buck and Charles and…?

“You can’t make her go through any more of this. I won’t fucking let you,” Merrick was growling at some strange looking people who sat across from them at a table. They all seemed to have animalistic faces. “This pain is too much for her to bear, even for a branch of your fucking sacred skrillix.”

The skrillix, Elise suddenly remembered. The pain vine. I pricked my finger with its thorn. That’s what happened…why I remembered…remembered everything.

That was why the pain of Buck’s death was still so fresh, why the horror of what her stepfather had done to her still choked her like a bone in her throat. Merrick had stopped the scene before it’s conclusion but it was too late—the vault’s door had been blown off its hinges and the evil, ugly, rotted things that had been held inside it were set loose, free to torment her forever.

“It is enough. The pain the girl-child has given will more than pay,” one of the Elders said. But Elise barely heard him. Inside her head that horrible afternoon with her stepfather echoed over and over, trapping her in a neverending loop of pain and shame and misery.

Suddenly Merrick was standing in front of her, his hands on her shoulders and concern in his eyes—those mismatched eyes so much like Buck’s. “Elise? Baby?” he asked softly. “Are you okay?”