Less than Perfect

26. Desperate {part two}

Chapter Twenty-Six
Desperate
Part Two

WHEN JOHNNY FINALLY came back into the cabin's room, Skye, in a dizzying state of desperation and fear, had managed to gather her thoughts together enough so that she could plan her own feeble way of escape. The way she saw it, she had no other options. No one was coming to help her, Johnny had already had his way with her, and death had never sounded so horrifying. She didn't want to give up; she'd fight until her very last breath.

But she wouldn't let Johnny know about her intentions. She had to portray herself as weak and incapable of such deviousness, which—in her state of agony and fear—wasn't hard to do.

"It's about time we get going," Johnny said suddenly, snapping her from her thoughts. "We can't wait here forever."

In the haze of her cloudy mind, she numbly pulled on the restraints at her wrists and winced at the searing pain that burned her raw flesh. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain, fighting hard against the images that were forever etched into the darkness. She couldn't let the memories haunt her now; she couldn't lose focus on her plan.

Suddenly Johnny's fingers were brushing the skin of her legs as he pulled up her panties, and she stifled a scream, remembering the pain, remembering the assault. She chewed on the inside of her mouth and shook her head, trying to stay strong; but her fear got the best of her and she whispered a raspy, "No."

He hesitated for a moment before saying, "It's okay, Skylar. I'm only helping you. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

She turned her face away, on the verge of tears. And even though the tears could play a decent part in her plan, she wouldn't let Johnny see any more. She didn't want to give him that kind of power over her.

When he reached the top of her thighs, he hesitated, and Skye's heart mercilessly hammered inside her chest. "D-don't do anything," she croaked, burdened with a current of fresh fear. "Y-You said you wouldn't h-hurt m-me." She froze, feeling the tips of his fingers touch the sensitive part of her skin, and whimpered. "Please—"

He sighed, heavily, and pulled the panties up all the way, his touch leaving licks of heat in its wake. And to Skye's surprise, he began untying the ropes at her ankles.

She sucked in a breath when she turned to look at him, remembering the way he looked at her during the assault. But when she really looked at him, from his now clean, clothed body, to the look of undeniable grief and frustration on his face, she felt herself calm a little. At least he was feeling something –other than sick, twisted satisfaction—from what he had done to her. Or so she hoped.

When the bonds were tossed away, he carefully pulled her jeans back on her, gently buckling the belt when he'd finished. "I'm sorry," he whispered, so quiet Skye barely heard it. "It shouldn't have gone that way." She averted her gaze when he looked up, and trembled when she felt him straddle her waist. "I don't like hurting you. I just lost myself when you disrespected me like that." He caught her face in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "I really am sorry, Princess."

She blinked her heavily lidded eyes. "Please let go of me," she begged, as softly as a whisper in the wind. "You're hurting me." It wasn't a lie; the weight of him on top of her, and even the gentle grip on her face was sending spasms of pain throughout her body.

He looked confused for a moment, before he shook his head and let go of her face, working on the buttons of her blouse instead. "You're not going to fight me anymore, are you? 'Cause as much as I hate hurting you, there will always be consequences for your rebellion."