My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 69

"You're even hotter than they said."

"Please!" I sobbed, my face half-buried in the leaves, "Please, let me go! I didn't know... I didn't agree to this!"

I tried to crawl forward, my fingers clawing at the mud, but he just laughed. It was a dark, mean sound. He grabbed the back of my black top and pulled, the fabric stretching tight against my throat.

"I don't care what you knew," he said. He moved one hand back down, his fingers wandering dangerously close to the edge of my shorts again, "The pink ribbon means you're a prize. And I’m the one who caught you."

"No! Stop!" I screamed, my voice breaking. I was shaking so hard the wire rattled against my ankles, "I'm not part of the game! Someone brought me here... I didn't want this! Please, just let me go home!"

"Everyone here agrees to the game," he muttered. His hand reached around, sliding under my stomach to pull me tighter against him.

"No! I didn't!" I sobbed, "I didn't know about the ribbons! I just wanted to leave the house! Please, just let me go. I'll do anything, just don't do this!"

I was crying so hard I couldn't see. The red smoke was everywhere, and the pain in my feet was a white-hot fire that wouldn't go out. I felt like I was dying.

I felt like the gray rain from five years ago had finally drowned me.

I was shaking so hard the wire rattled against the trees. I felt his hand move to my head. He grabbed a handful of my hair, but he didn't pull it hard. He slowly slid the tangled strands away from the side of my face, tucking them behind my ear so he could see my profile in the red light.

Suddenly, the heavy weight of his body went still.

The wandering hand stopped moving. The rough breathing went quiet.

"Gianna?"

The voice was different now. The hunger was gone, replaced by a cold shock.

Raphael didn't move for a heartbeat. He just stared at my face, his chest rising and falling in fast, heavy breaths. Then, his eyes dropped to the pink ribbon tied around my neck.

A sound came out of his throat. It wasn't a word. It was a sound of pure rage.

"Who did this?" he hissed, "Who put this on you?"

He didn't wait for me to answer. He reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a folding knife. The silver blade flicked out with a loud click. I flinched, pulling my face into the dirt, but he wasn't looking at me.

He moved to my feet and sliced through the wire. The tension snapped, and my legs fell flat against the ground. The pain in my ankles was dull and throbbing, but I didn't care. I was free.

Raphael grabbed my waist and flipped me over onto my back. He didn't do it gently. He moved with a frantic, shaky energy. He hovered over me, his hands hovering near my face like he wanted to touch me but something was holding him back.

"Gianna," he breathed. His eyes were dark, scanning every inch of my body. He saw the dirt on my top, and my face, "Look at me. Look at me right now."