The Arrangement Anthology 2(60)

CHAPTER 10




I’m fine. I tell myself even though I’m already beyond nervous. There is a tiny shaft of light that slices through the darkness, so I know that there’s air in here, even though it doesn’t feel like it. I try to close my eyes and forget where I am, but I can’t. The foam peanuts remind me that I’m inside a tiny space with very little air. There’s no breeze across my skin, nothing.

My hands have found the sides of the box and just before I push on the lid, I hear a noise—tape. The seam of light across the top of the box disappears. I gasp and try to sit up as my palms splay against the top of the box. He wasn’t supposed to trap me in here.

Yes, he was. You knew he wouldn’t let you out. It’s part of the game.

Even so, I can’t stand it. I try to calm myself and lay back in the foam. I count my fingers and toes until each one is so tense that I can’t tolerate it. I feel my mind unraveling. When I open my eyes it looks the same as when they’re closed. I can’t see anything. There’s not enough air. That’s when the panic rises up my throat and starts to wrap its fingers around my throat. I reach out and claw at the sides of the box and start kicking and thrashing. I call for Sean to let me out, but he doesn’t answer. The tape doesn’t rip away and the lid doesn’t open.

My chest constricts as my heart pounds harder, faster. Pressing my palms above my head, I push hard. When that doesn’t work, I try my legs. What the hell did he use to seal the box? The lid won’t budge. I call his name again and bang on the crate, but no one comes.

Gasping, I try to silence my fears, but I can’t. They control me, they choose my words, and the pitch of my voice. They make me say things and beg. I claw at the walls and throw the foam, but that only makes it worse. As the packaging peanuts slip over me, their jagged edges feel like bugs and my mind flashes an image of a casket. That dream, the one where I’m buried alive, ignites behind my eyes as terror shoots through my veins.

I have no idea how long I’ve been in here, but I can’t separate rational thought from nightmares. I scream and feel beetle legs pricking my skin. They’re stuck in my hair and trying to devour me. The darkness drips with menace and a horrified scream rips from my mouth. My nails scratch at the cardboard as tears streak from my eyes.

The lid suddenly opens and I’m blinded by light. Before I have time to move, a body is on top of mine, naked and aroused. The lid closes behind him and the darkness covers me. Before I can scream, his hand covers my mouth. At the same time, he moves and slams his hard body against mine, forcing himself between my legs and inside of me.

I hear Sean’s voice in my ear, but it sounds like he’s a million miles away. As his hips pound against me over and over again, he makes guttural sounds every bit as monsterish as he thinks he is. My entire body is tense, not welcoming, but that doesn’t stop him. Sean crushes into me, pushing deeper and harder with each thrust. His hand over my mouth makes me feel like I’m being suffocated, but the other hand, the one on my hips is gentle. Sean’s fingers glide along my skin, tracing the curve. The action stands in stark contrast to the rest of his behavior, but I can’t think. There’s nothing but blackness and death and I’m trapped, lost in a scream that never ends.

When Sean’s thrusts slow my eyes shoot open. I didn’t realize I’d been pinching them shut. I can make out the side of his cheek in the darkness. The sliver of light allows me to see just a little bit. Sean’s lips are parted and his eyes are shut. He’s lost, and I wonder if he knows he’s fucking me at that moment or if it even matters.

When he finally pushes into me one last time, it feels like I’ve been rubbed raw. He shudders as he fills me, and the stinging abates when he pulls out. Sean releases his hold on my mouth and pushes the box open. Without a word he stands and steps out. He doesn’t look down at me, ask me if I’m all right, or offer his hand.

I lay there with the lid open and shiver, half seeing my dorm room ceiling and half blinking away images of the funeral home. I stared at the ceiling for hours when my parents died. I know every inch of that funeral home and one day it’ll be me laying there.

“Breathe.” The command breaks my thoughts and my eyes cut to the side. Sean is standing there naked, and staring down, like he can’t stand the sight of me.

I should hold my breath to spite him. What happened? A small logical voice in the far corner of my mind sounds out, asking the obvious question. Why is he angry?

I don’t know.

I suck in air and Sean turns his back on me again. “Do you have towels?”