I am so afriad and I wanna run, but Lucy held me tightly.
In an instant, I understood: Lucy had done this on purpose, the familiar suffocation nearly stealing my breath.
“Why?”
Lucy was my first friend after I went abroad.
When I first arrived, I struggled to adapt to my newfound freedom, often waking from nightmares wishing I were dead.
It was Lucy who helped me through it.
The brilliance of the past felt painfully dull compared to the present.
Avoiding my gaze, Lucy pushed me forcefully.
“Sherlyn, I can’t help it. This club is very important to me.”
The door closed tightly before me.
She shoved me into a private room, and I fell heavily to the ground, my awkward position causing everyone to burst into laughter.
“It’s just a business deal; no need to make a big scene.”
The speaker was someone I recognized-one of Ben’s few friends and one of the few who knew our past.
He slapped my face hard.
“Back then, Ben was willing to die for you! And what about you? How have you treated him?”
The slap sent my head to the side.
After saying this, he seemed to think of something, a mocking smile appearing on his face.
“Now you want sponsorship? Fine, drink a toast and take off a piece of clothing for a hundred thousand in sponsorship. What do you say?”
The laughter around us nearly shook the ceiling.
Ben lounged lazily on the sofa, making no move to stop it.
If this were the past, he would have already dealt with the person disrespecting me.
“Miss Patterson should adopt a more pleading attitude. Whether or not to strip is up to you; if you can’t accept it, you can leave.”
Ben’s tone was casual, as if he were an outsider.
I felt slapped awake, smashing the drink the man offered to the ground.
Ben signaled, and the drinker immediately grabbed a bottle of high-proof vodka, forcing my mouth open and pouring it down my throat.
The alcohol spilled messily from the corners of my mouth, no matter how much I struggled.
In a panic, I bit the man’s hand, which only infuriated him further as he slapped my face.
“You filthy little slut!”
And all the while, Ben sat on the sofa, remaining detached.
I fell to the ground, and the man licked his lips, ripping open my jacket.
A tidal wave of terror engulfed me, just as the man’s hand approached my clothing.
I was yanked from the ground.
It was Ben, leading me into an empty adjacent room, much to everyone’s surprise.
In a dizzying haze, I was pinned against the door, his warm body pressed tightly against me, leaving no gap between us. “Sherlyn, after four years, you still look so pitiful.”
“Does it feel familiar, this sense of isolation and abandonment? What to do? You look so tempting; I can’t help but reminisce.” Despair washed over me like a tide, and Ben ‘s methods hadn’t changed. He made sure everyone close to me betrayed me, leaving only him by my side.
I remembered the past-how Ben loved to force alcohol on me against my will. Whenever I drank, my entire body would flush red, and he loved nothing more than to pin the flushed version of me against the mirror, savoring my embarrassment before devouring me little by little.
“Ben, you never lost your memory.” He chuckled softly, his hands slowly finding their way to my neck, gradually applying pressure. “Sherlyn, I’ve searched for you for four years, and I can only find ways to lower your defenses. But you really are heartless, refusing to go back.”