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Chapter 50
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168 Hours in Hell Chapter 51
PATSY POV:It was a day full of disaster and if things couldn’t get any worse the night also started to appear like a disaster when I heard the door slamming shut and loud footsteps.Frowning, I move into my sleep.With utter difficulty, I was able to close my eyes and shut this world’s worries out of my mind but this universe won’t let me have peace.NO…Annoyed, I sat up from my bed wanting to yell out loud that stop f**king my mother, rascal Jeff.But when I reached the stairs, finally I saw what an impulsive decision I made.My mother was at the coffee table, a man was kissing her, while the other was taking off her skirt, and the third one was working to take off her blouse.My eyes widened at the sight of three men stripping my mother.The man kissing my mom grunts and only then do I notice my mother’s hand squeezing his cock over the clothes.Then she turned to give her mouth to the other men, while one squeezed her hand around his cock, the other kissed her while molding her b
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 52
PATSY POV:I need evidence. Evidence that she lied about him. But how am I supposed to get that?The whole night went into thinking and planning.Thankfully the scenes from downstairs were quiet and I heard the noise of the car engine which indicated that those four monsters had gone.After my hard work, and the distressing thoughts of my plans.Slowly, a smile creeps over my face. It just might work, and if it does, Daddy will be so proud of me.All of our problems will be gone in one fell swoop, and I’ll be his forever.A deep, deep feeling swells within me. A feeling so intense I don’t even want to acknowledge it lest it slips away like a drop of rain on the window glass.Now, with a burning flame of determination inside me.****The Next MorningWiping away the haze on the mirror, I stare at myself for a long time as I summon all my determination and willpower and squeeze it into a tiny, dense ball of passion.“You can do this, Patsy,” I tell myself with a deep breath. “You can. Y
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 53
PATSY POV:Two days after that, my mom signed the divorce papers.She moved out, and the last I heard from her, she was living with Mr. HNG8NCH. We don’t speak anymore, and I’m just fine with that.Baron sold the house, and we moved into the one he’d taken me to that one sunny day we had together before the police arrived. We made love the night he was released, twice, then again the next day. And again and again, as though we couldn’t get enough of each other. We couldn’t.Two weeks later I was pregnant.Baron’s tongue is beyond incredible. Within a minute, I’m soaring high as my climax grips me. My back arches up off my artist’s table, and I tug my shirt up to expose my breasts. He reaches up and pinches my nipples, just hard enough to hurt, and I cry out in ecstasy. A shudder runs through my body as he flattens his tongue and applies pressure. He holds it there just long enough, letting me come down before he rises up and pulls his pants down.“There it is,” I whisper, opening
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 54
NEW STORY -- NEW PLOT -- NEW CHARACTERSGREYSONThe cash slides from my palm into the valet. His fingers curl around the wad of bills as he pulls back, and he looks away.Aw, he’s embarrassed.The girl on my arm giggles and leans into me.Money and good looks will help people get away with just about anything. I learned that at the tender age of five from my father, thank you very much. He toted me around and flashed his smile or his wealth, and doors opened for us.Sometimes literally.Sometimes figuratively.We were invincible.Look at that sentence. Then read it again.We.Were. Invincible.Back when I was a kid, my father and I wore gilded armor. He was a king, and I was a prince. We floated above the rest of society, and nothing was out of our reach.I experienced the world through my father’s view of getting everything he fucking wanted. It’s only natural that I became him.Look, I’m not saying it’s right. I’m just saying this is how it works. People are sheep, all too eager to be
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 55
SIX MONTHS LATERVIOLETA widely known fact about me: I don’t like surprises. I’m jumpy. I make unholy noises. My face gets beet red, and my body gets hot and tingly, and sometimes I feel like I’ve run out of air. Unfortunately, that combination is the perfect reaction for people who do like surprises.Which is why I’ve spent my life being surprised. Birthday parties, jump-scares, visitors I wasn’t expecting… People love to see the dramatic reaction, and I seem unable to help but give it to them.And, naïve me, I keep expecting people will remember I loathe them.Not today.I’ve barely pushed open the apartment door when the lights come on and a dozen people scream, “WELCOME BACK!”I scream right along with them. My coffee goes everywhere, and my feet go out from under me. Only quick hands grasping my arms keep me upright.And falling would probably suck a lot under my conditions.After my heart stops trying to escape from my tight chest, I find my darling roommate-slash-best friend a
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 56
“You look good,” Willow tells me. She extends a tube of lipstick toward me.I finger-comb my blonde hair into somewhat respectable curls and then swipe on the dark-red color. It’s bolder than what I would’ve normally gone for, but I trust my best friend’s judgment. It gives my pink sweater a bit of an edgier vibe.Probably.Maybe it’s wishful thinking.She loops her arm in mine. In the living room, our friends are spread out on the couches and the floor. Now that I look closer at them, they do seem ready to go out. Flawless makeup, nice clothes. Dresses, heeled boots.“Where are we going?” I ask.“Haven. There’s a game tonight, but it should be okay if we get there before it ends. Should we call a cab, or are you good to walk?”Haven is a local bar that’s almost always overrun by CPU students.“Walking is fine.” I’ll pay for it tomorrow, but my blood runs cold at the thought of getting into a car. It was a struggle to sit in the passenger seat of mom’s car on the way here. Our silence
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 57
GREYSONMy teammate nods to the guy sitting at a table full of girls. “Jack, Greyson. Jack is the quarterback on the football team.”I quirk my lips. The football team lost spectacularly this year, no thanks toJackhere. It’s a good thing the hockey team is picking up the slack and bringing some attention back to this school.That’s where I shine.In the spotlight.Well, correction: that’s where I used to shine.My gaze goes to the girl beside Jack, who seems like she’s about to be violently sick. She looks familiar in the way most girls do. Like I might’ve had a chance encounter with her at some point in my life but nothing worthy of me remembering.Maybe we ran into each other here, at Haven. After a game.I smirk at her, and she flinches. Not the usual reaction.Interesting.Steele is going around the table, introducing the dance team. I register it faintly, still trying to figure out the girl under Jack’s arm. She’s watching me, too. Her blue eyes on mine are like daggers. I’m intr
168 Hours in Hell Chapter 58
VIOLETSunlight slants across my face, and I groan. I block it with my hand, but then my overhead light flicks on.“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty. It’s almost one o’clock.” Willow climbs onto my bed, flopping beside me. “How are you feeling?”I squint at the ceiling. “Like my head is an anvil and it’s being struck by a hammer over and over. Undecided on my leg. Or the rest of me.” That’s a lie. As soon as I focus on my lower leg, pain shoots up into my hip in waves. I grit my teeth.“Well, you went a little hardcore…”Yeah, that’s true. I couldn’t bear to look at Greyson at the bar. He completely ignored me after accosting me in the bathroom. Instead, he flirted with Paris and one of her friends. And meanwhile, I kept freaking out.Why the hell is he here? Did he know I went here? Crown Point University is so far removed from our hometown, Rose Hill. Different state. Hours away. This small town was my reprieve, and now it’s becoming my nightmare.He’s the hotshot no one can shut up
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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
