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Chapter 36
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168 Hours in Hell Chapter 37
PATSY POV:Taking a deep breath, I slowly move my hand down, down, down between my legs until I find it, the spot that gets me there. Only this time when I touch it, my body responds differently.The jolt of sensation is sharp, almost painful, and rocks me. My legs quiver and I have to brace myself against the wall. I hear a groan from Baron and open my eyes to see him stroking his slick cock up and down with a strong hand.“See, you can do it. You’re a good little slut, aren’t you?”I’m nothing more than a visual to him. His eyes are focused on me the same way as if he were watching a movie. I move my finger slowly, circling my clitoris, sending pulses of pleasure through my body. The contrast of feelings inside me is like rays of sunshine breaking through a terrible storm. Despite my humiliation, I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips.“That sweet, teenage body of yours has my cock throbbing, princess,” Baron groans, stepping closer. Isn’t this enough? Is he going to rape me now
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 38
PATSY POV:A guy steps out, not much older than me, wearing shorts and flip-flops and a big grin on his face. He spins his keys around his finger as he trots up to the front door and rings the bell. Instantly, my eyes are on my mom.She shrugs. “Hey, a girl has needs.”“Needs, Mom?” I exclaim. “You have a husband!”A husband who clearly has a sexual appetite.“Please, Patsy. Your father and I haven’t had sex in forever.”“Stepfather,” I corrected her. Wait, did she just say they haven’t had sex? How could that be possible? It’s clear that Baron has the sexual appetite of a baboon during mating season. How could he not be taking my mom, even if he’s on to the fact that she’s just using him for his money? “Will you let him in, honey?”“I’m not letting your side-piece booty call in, Mom.” Normally, I might be in the mood to just shut up and do it, but not today. Today I’m not taking any of her shit.“Geez, someone’s in a bitchy mood today.”Thanks, Mom. Way to be supportive.Grabbing my
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 39
PATSY POV:“Do your ears not work, Patsy?”Asshole. What is his problem? And how could I have lived with him this long and not known he was a complete psychopath?“Don’t worry. We’ll get you home and warm up. I already started a fire.”“No, that’s okay,” I snapped. “I’ll be fine.”“Oh, no you won’t,” he laughs. “You’ll end up needing me to bring you to the hospital, and I can’t have that.”There’s something obnoxiously charming about the way he’s speaking to me, almost like we’re an old couple and he knows my personality so well that he doesn’t even bother listening to what I say anymore.“You know what? I’m glad to hear you say that, princess. Because the best way to warm another human up is body heat. And I’ve got plenty of that.”“I’ll take the fire,” I reply, finally turning to face him. I expect to see him glaring back at me with anger. Instead, I see him smiling, a light of amusement in his eyes.“You really are a sassy little bitch, aren’t you? I guess that shouldn’t surprise m
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 40
PATSY POV:Maybe Baron is just extremely good with people, and that’s why he’s so successful. Maybe he was right about Harry, and he is just the lesser of two evils. That still doesn’t explain why he thought he could do what he did to me.But he was trying to teach me some kind of lesson. Not to prance around in front of him with skimpy clothes on? Or not to hang out with guys? Sure, maybe I was doing the first one on purpose to annoy him, but not to…” get his dick hard” as he said. And why can’t I hang out with a guy my own age who’s interested in me?God. I feel so emotionally manipulated. It’s like I’m standing on a tightrope over a stormy ocean and one wrong step will send me tumbling into the sea, never to be seen again.I climb into bed, take several deep breaths, and tell myself to forget about him. He may have owned my body, but I won’t let him own my mind. But try as I might, Baron invades my mind like a virus. Every thought is of him. Last night’s incident replays in my mind
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 41
PATSY POV:After I get over the shock of what just happened – finding a hidden cell phone in my drawer and an outfit in my closet, I grab a towel and head to the shower. I hate to admit it, but the mystery of Baron has gripped me, and I can’t shake it.What possible reason could he have for treating me this way and doing what he did to me? Sure, he says he was protecting me from Harry, but his version of “protection” is basically pulling me out of the frying pan and throwing me into the fire. I would have thought bringing me inside for a stern talking to and then maybe a make-up popsicle or some ice cream would have been the way to go, not forcing me to strip and jerking off on me.What could motivate him to do such a thing?Does he really just want me that badly? I know I’ve been wearing completely inappropriate things around the house, but as a grown man, shouldn’t he be able to ignore that? Look the other way? In two years he’ll be forty, for crying out loud! I guess maybe if he an
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 42
PATSY POV:“So, Patsy, would you like to drink something?” The two brothers take me away with them, I nod my head feeling thirsty and they hand me a glass of drink.I gulp it down immediately.“It’s good,” I tell them as I lick my lips feeling the sweetness all over my tongue.“You want more?” Sandro asks, his eyes shining like a star.“Oh, yeah.” I nod my head, these two brothers are so friendly. I feel so good to meet them first, instead of encountering Baron, I don’t need his company at all.Sandro and Marcus keep offering me drinks, and without caring any less I keep gulping them down, without bothering to ask for the name of the drink.After I am down with four glasses, at the fifth glass, I start to feel weird, it’s like my head starts to get heavy all of a sudden, and people around me are spinning wildly.“You’re spinning,” I say to Marcus and Sandro and they give each other a meaningful look.“Let’s take you inside to rest.” Sandro pulls me closer while Marcus keeps a hand on
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 43
PATSY POV:BEEP … BEEP …My head hurts, and the alarm was going off, waking me up from a deep sleep.I rub my sleepy eyes, where the hell am I?The last thing I remembered clearly was when Baron called me to that weird boobs-showing party of his and then…Then.. I met Marcus and Sandro… and then…Arghh…I keep thinking and there my mind clicks, Sandro and Marcus pushing me onto the bed and undressing me.F**kCuriously I look down at myself to see my bare body. Where are my clothes?Just when I am lost in trance, the door opens and Baron walks in, he is wearing a suit, and looking disheveled.“You’re awake…” He looks surprised at me.“Yes.” I shrug, what’s so new in waking up?“Next time… If you dare accept the drink from any stranger…” Just a moment he was in surprise and relief and then again his ferocious personality returned.In his words, I rolled my eyes showing my displeasure to him and in that instant, he turned into an animal. One moment, he was standing in front of me and th
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 44
PATSY POV:My God. I really do have a daddy kink; I just never acknowledged it. All this time…was my behavior…was I subconsciously seducing him? That would explain his anger when he found me with Harry.“I like it when you call me that.” He grins.“I—I like it too.”I like it, even more, when he presses the tip of his cock against my entrance, spreading me open and readying my body for him.Like the other night, I’m engulfed with heat, and my legs begin quaking with anticipation. It’s so intense I can barely hold them open, but Baron takes care of that for me too; he grips my thighs with both hands and spreads my legs as wide as they will go.“You shave your fucking pussy,” he remarks, hunger in his voice. “Who do you do that for?”A wave of fresh anger in his eyes causes me to tense up again. “No—no one! You saw it the other night, Daddy!”“You weren’t shaving for Harry?”“No! No, I promise! I just—I just do it. All the girls do these days.”I watch his eyes as he processes my answe
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168 Hours in Hell Chapter 94
VIOLET“Time to wake up,” Greyson says in my ear.I open my eyes and blink rapidly, trying to make sense of where we are. Not on the sidewalk anymore, that’s for sure. The air is warm, absent of a breeze. I’m sitting with my arms over my head. I tug, but they don’t move. Something holds firm around my wrists.A rattling to my right draws my attention. He stands at a wall of windows, pulling a chain to open the vertical blinds. We’re in the dance studio, and the lights are off. My eyes catch on myself in the mirror, but it’s hard to reconcile what I’m seeing with the truth.I’m naked to my waist, my wrists tied to the bar just over my head. My skin pricks, goosebumps rising on my flesh. I force my attention away, back to Greyson. He still stands by the large windows, but his attention is now on me. He’s got the blinds open. Moonlight streams in.“What are you doing?” I scoot backward until I’m as upright as I can be. My back bumps into the wall, and I tilt my head back to get a better
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 93
GREYSONViolet, Violet, Violet.I can smell her sweet, floral scent in my room like she rubbed herself along my walls and my sheets. There’s no imprint. No sign of her at all except for the smell. Something I don’t think I could concoct in my imagination.I sit on my bed and inhale again, not wanting to exhale.My father calls me. I consider sending it to voicemail, but the last time I did that, he showed up at my game.Him. At a game.I haven’t seen him witness me play in years, let alone speak to me after the fact. It probably has something to do with our clashing reputations. Can a beloved senator really have a bloodthirsty hockey player for a son?Since our next game is at home, I don’t want to risk that. Coach Roake acted like he walked on water, and I was once again reminded of the complex power my father holds. It goes far beyond his domain of New York.I don’t know if there’s a place his influence can’t reach.“Hey, Dad.”“Greyson,” he greets me. Brisk and businesslike, even t
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 92
“When did you get here, Violet?” Paris asks.I tilt my head. “What?”“When. Did. You. Get. Here?”Greyson snorts. “She’s more welcome than you.”You know… when I want him to stick it to her, he doesn’t. He lets her climb all over him and sit close and flirt and fawn. And when I’d rather be anywhere but here, he tells her to shove it.Lovely.“Grey,” she tries.Oh, hell no. “You did not just call him that.”Her expression darkens. “Why, did you lay claim to that nickname?”I cross my arms. “As a matter of fact, I did.”Jesus. Who would’ve thought I’d be arguing about a nickname… this whole night is a mind-fuck. And in the back of my head, I have Senator Devereux’s secretary reminding me of my agreement with them. The fact that my aquatic therapy costs hundreds of dollars that I don’t have to spare, and they’ve been footing the bill.“You’re nothing special,” Paris snaps at me, flipping her hair over her shoulder.I roll my eyes. I’m sick of her attitude, but I don’t have the energy to
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 91
Willow rushes me after my first class. She almost crashes into me, skidding to a halt inches away, and drags me into the bathroom. She checks each of the stalls and then locks the main door.“What the hell, Violet?”I jerk back. “What?”“What. The. Hell. Violet.” She glares at me. “You should give a girl some more warning before you go off script.”I drop my backpack and shrug, helpless and more than a bit confused. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you going to tell me or just keep scolding me?”“This.” She pulls her phone out and shoves it at me.It’s a blog for the CPU Hawks. All sorts of athletic team write-ups, reports, and coverage of the games… plus notices put out by the publicist. Rebecca Dumont.“We met with the publicist the other day,” I say slowly.I click on the most recent post that went live twenty minutes ago.Didn’t take long for Willow to find it—and then me. I’m not sure what I’m expecting to find. I told Rebecca that the previous article posted in the
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 90
VIOLETThe trip organizers rented out one of the conference rooms for breakfast. There’s a congregation of CPU students in the room, spread out across tables, at the buffet line. I ignore them all, though, in my hunt for Willow.I never ended up texting her last night, and I feel a pang of guilt. It eases slightly, though, when I see her sandwiched between Knox and Amanda.Grey stops beside me. Hearing that I’ve used a nickname he likes—especially coming from me, I guess—does weird things to me. Good things. Strange things. It’s a step in a direction I wasn’t expecting. Like our truce. Like pretending not to hate each other.I’m pretty sure I have frostbite on my ass, though.“Hungry?”I glance up at him. “A bit.”He smiles. “Go sit. I’ll grab us something.”“No, it’s okay.” I head toward the buffet.He snags my wrist. “Vi.”“Grey.” I narrow my eyes. “I have a weird relationship with food, okay? Don’t fight me on this.”He appraises me, understanding lighting his expression. He finall
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 89
GREYSON I rise before Violet. I quietly brush my teeth and pull on different clothes, then sit on the unused bed. I grab her phone from the charger and open it, still sort of miffed that she hasn’t thought to put a password on it.Some people are far too trusting.Like Violet, asleep in my bed. I glance back at her and take in her hair scattered across her face, her full lips, parted as she takes in long, deep breaths. Her eyelids twitch, like her eyes are moving in a dream, and her fingers are curled into her pillow.Other than her tense grip, she seems relaxed.My hand aches, but I’ll deal with that later. Both hands are still wrapped. People kept commenting on them last night when I was trying to keep one eye on Violet. The normal rush from being at the center of attention didn’t come, becauseshewasn’t paying attention to me.When the hell did my brain flip to only giving a shit about her?I don’t like it.I go to her texts, and a conversation with Mia Germain catches my eye. The
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 88
GREYSONI consider Violet Reece. Before. The girl who seemed to have everything together.Outward appearances can be deceiving. I know that better than anyone.While she hides in the bathroom, I pull up a video of the Crown Point Ballet. One of their shows stars my girl as the lead. I keep the screen close to my face, trying to analyze her every expression when she dances.There’s another video in the suggested list on the side—an interview with Mia Germain and Violet. I don’t know who Mia is, but I’m curious to see Violet. Not just dancing, but her demeanor.It’s different in front of a camera, that much is immediately obvious. She and an older woman sitting in cushioned chairs side by side. Violet on screen is thinner than she is now. She wears a t-shirt, leggings, and a wraparound cardigan cinched tight to her waist. It gapes at the top. Her hair is slicked back in a bun. Even her face has a sharpness to it that isn’t present nowadays.The date on the video is from a year ago.I hi
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 87
“You find our special friend?” Amanda asks. “Jess is being the responsible one. She’ll get us home.”Oh, well, that’s a brilliant plan.“I need a drink,” I call.They wave me off.I stand at the bar, silent for a moment, then carefully tug my shirt lower. I don’t have a ton of cleavage, but I guess it does the trick. Seconds later, the bartender pauses in front of me. His gaze goes down, then back to my face.“You got a boyfriend, sweetheart?”I smile sweetly. “Nope, but I do hope I can get a screwdriver. And a vodka tonic for my friend.”He smirks. “I can do that for you.”“Thanks.” My cheeks heat at the insinuation.He hands me a glass filled to the brim with orange juice and vodka. I slide him cash and wait for my change, then take a sip. The taste of vodka gets stuck in my nose, but I ignore it.I’ve stayed away from drugs my whole life. I was a good girl. The one who tried to do no wrong, because I thought that was what would save me in the end.Newsflash—that’s a fucking joke.W
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 86
He lifts his head, and I slowly open my eyes. My vision has adjusted. Moonlight comes in through skylights and high windows. There are faint emergency lights outside the rink, just barely visible from here.The cold hit me, and I shiver.He slips out of me and scoots back on his knees. He grips my knees and widens my legs as far as they can go. My ankles are still trapped together by my jeans, stuck on my boots.When he runs his finger from my slit up to my clit, my lips part.“Here’s a little challenge for you, Violent.” He toys with my clit again, analyzing my reaction.I squirm. I want to get off, I’m right there, on the edge, but he pulls away before I can get there. Again. And again. We go through this for fucking eternity, until I’m desperate enough to do it myself.So I do.I touch myself while he watches, while I shiver and moan and try not to let him see all of me. I fucking hate it. Where did my self-control go? Where did my will? But his gaze combats the cold, and I know ju
