Had I been dreaming about him, or had he really been here? All I could see was him: his whole weight on top of me, pinning me down. I imagined those handcuffs, which had already broken the skin of my wrists, cutting into my swollen flesh. The smell of him; stale alcohol breathing into my open mouth.
This isn't real. He's not real.
It took me a while to get past Cathy's OCD routines and the way the book was written, alternating from past to present day, but as I kept reading, I found I could not stop wanting to find out what Cathy's psycho control freak boyfriend was going to do next, and WHAT AN ENDING!