DANTE
houghts of last night swirl around inside my head like fish in a fishbowl. I shouldn’t have touched her, taunted her, or let her get under my skin, but there was no way around it. She is too naive for her own good. All but telling me to take her, reminding
me that I paid for her—like I could forget.
Too much pent-up need combined with the alcohol in my system made it hard for me to control myself, and that’s why I snapped.
I wanted her, wanted her so bad, and yet I talked myself off the cliff’s edge.
All I could see was her fear reflecting back at me. It hit me right in the chest and made it hard for me to breathe. I couldn’t bring myself to continue, to hurt her, even though I knew soon enough, I would do just that. But a selfish part of me wanted to continue, wanted to take a
