Predator

Chapter Thirty-One

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My eyes are burning, staring at the ceiling in the darkness as the sound of rain echoes in the room.

I can't sleep, not with this gnawing emptiness in my stomach. I have to wait two more days before Will goes to the store, two more days I have to stick it out. We're down to our final morsels of food. We've resorted to eating acorns and grass during the day before dinner, but they don't do much and taste awful. Acorns and grass! I may as well be a squirrel! I never thought I'd say this, and I'm ashamed I am, but I could really go for a hamburger right now. I'm starting to see spots in my vision, my head aches all the time.

Besides our impending starvation, things have been tense since Will hit me. Just...awkward. We don't talk all that much, and it seems as if we're just tip-toeing around each other. I'm counting on the trip to the store to make everything better again. Food equals happiness, right?

In the stillness, I hear him exhale. "Rach?" he whispers. "Are you awake?"

"Yes."

He turns over from his side, facing me and pulling me in closer to him. "I'm sorry, baby," he says, kissing my cheek. "For all this."

"It's okay."

His lips move to my mouth and he kisses me sweetly. I settle into it, letting my arms rest around his back as he hovers over me, the kiss deepening. I hear small noises coming from his throat; his hands trail down from my shoulders and steal under my t-shirt.

"Will," I murmur, squirming as he touches my breasts.

"You're so beautiful, Rach," he mumbles against my collarbone. "So beautiful."

I'm just beginning to tolerate the groping when his hands begin moving again, resting at my hips and his fingers latching under my waistband. My breath catches.

"Will, no," I tell him, removing my hands from his back to stop his. This proves useless when he nudges them away. Oh no.

"C'mon baby," he whispers. I gasp as he touches me down there.

"Will, stop it!" I cry. "I don't want to! Stop it!"

I try hitting his shoulders, pushing him away but it's not working. His hips are grinding against mine, still kissing me, and his whole weight is keeping me down against the bed. "Relax, Rach, it's gonna be fine," he pleads. "Calm down. It's okay."

My shorts and underwear are now down around my knees, and I'm starting to cry helplessly. My breath is hitched and fast. Oh, please don't let him do this again! Please, God! Please don't let this happen again!

"No, Will, no!" I sob. "Stop!"

The room is spinning. I have a bad, bad feeling in my gut; something familiar but not quite. I'm gasping for air, bucking against him and I think I'm screaming but I'm not sure.

"Rach, stop it!" he says, muffled by the hard kiss that follows. The strength in my legs gives out, they fall open under his force, and a pang of helplessness surges through my body.

"Don't, Will! Don't!" I'm sobbing incoherently, over and over.

"Baby, you're fine," he grunts. "It'll all be fine."

Thunder crackles overhead, the pattering of raindrops getting louder and louder on the noisy tin roof. The sound and the stress is overwhelming, shooting my panic up and I want to scream! I want to scream so bad but I can't, my mouth won't open! This is all like a horrible nightmare, where my legs won't move and my lungs won't make a noise!

Somehow through this madness I hear Quinn's voice, I hear a conversation from long ago about Noah and summer and wine coolers. "I just stared at the ceiling and waited for him to finish," she had told me. "I counted the stripes on my wall, listened to the mower outside."