Jamie, meet Dylan. Dylan, meet Jamie

Chapter Twenty-Nine

        I heard the familiar thud of his footsteps walk up the stairs as he opened the door to my room and closed it behind him. 

        "So. How did it go?" he said as he laid on the bed next to me. He was smiling, and God did I want to permanently wash that smile off.

        I bit my lip and paused before speaking. "Dad left yesterday. He still hasn't showed up," I said in a low voice. Dylan laughed.

        "See. I don't know why you always underestimate my abilities," he said. I looked away.

        "Jake hates me," I said. I didn't know why I was telling him this. Dylan turned my face to his.

        "Look at me," he said, and I did. "Jake doesn't hate you," he said.  "He hates what he thinks you did but he doesn't hate you." Where was this coming from?

        "Wh-why are you telling me this?" I asked him, confused.

        "Because I like to speak the truth sometimes," Dylan said as he propped up on his elbows. He inched closer to me.

        "I'm worried about the game," he said. Yeah maybe if you hadn't whipped me then we would've been safe. 

        "I think I need some sort of a good luck charm before I leave," he said. I furrowed my brows at him and he smiled at me.

        "Look at you, so innocent," he said with a chuckle. He moved his right hand right beside mine and his left next to my left until he was almost on top of me. I panicked; I didn't know what was going on.

        He inched his face closer to mine and finally planted a kiss on my lips. I couldn't believe what was happening; I didn't move. He moved his hands to somewhere I wouldn't dare let him touch me, and by this time I finally reacted. I pushed him with all my force away from me but he surprised me with his Swiss-army knife.

        "Miss this little thing?" he said as he flipped the knife in my face. I gulped. "You're not gonna resist, and you're gonna have a mighty grand time, you hear me?" he said. I couldn't nod.

        "I said do you hear me?" he repeated more sternly. His eyes were locked on mine, like he was hypnotizing me into succumbing to his personal pleasure.

        "Yes Master," I could only say, and he smiled at my memory of subordination. 

        He first took his knife and ran it on my stomach. The pain of the cut surged through me and crowded my head. 

        "There," Dylan said as he looked to admire his work of art. "DR. So you know who you belong to," he said and he put the knife back into his pocket. He fucking branded me. 

        "Now, for the real part," he said. 

        I couldn't move. I only focused on the white ceiling on top of me as I felt him move his hands and his lips to various parts of my body. His touches made me shudder, some even made me want to throw up, but I could do nothing but stare at the ceiling ahead and accept the reality of what was going on. That was it; there was no running away from him. There was no hiding from him. I was his as he had said. I didn't even stand up for it; I fucking deserved it.

        "You can get up now," Dylan said as he smiled at me. He rubbed my forehead before leaving the room. 

        "I'm sure I'm gonna win now. I needed some affirmation that I always do." He closed the door right after him and I adjusted my clothes as I stood up. Tears began to fall without previous warning. It was like all the emotions I had bottled up were overflowing now. I found myself collapsing to the floor and not being able to stop my tears from flowing. I was a failure at everything, heck I couldn't even stop myself. A sob escaped my lips and I didn't want anyone to hear it. I doubted anyone would care anymore. Tears were now a puddle underneath me as they gathered in an endless stream. I screamed through gritted teeth and only a muffle came out.