Wrath (Sinful Secrets, #4)

by Ella James

"Here, I'll show you. Lemme show you how it feels if it's a thin one. I can get you there, and you'll be protected. W...

"you gotta keep i...

"See how thin it is?" The thing is white. "I still see your sexy veins." He gives me a lick. "You can't feel it as good, but it's pretty thin, right?" "Yeah." Another whimper. "Lemme tell you about being at a bar, in a backroom, freckles. When you're young like you, you got an ass like that and you're on your fifth drink, you gotta stay safe from the old guys, the fucking voyeurs and the perverts and the freaks that could hurt you." He leans down and gives me a warm suck. "Nobody's gonna watch your sweet ass except you. Okay?"

"This tastes like marshmallow," he whispers. "And the size?" He smirks. "It's XL."

"Oh, babe. You're so fucking close. You wanna get off?"

"You can grab it and pull." "What about you?" The words tremble from my watering mouth.

"You not good?" he asks quietly. A tear escapes down my cheek, and I wrap a hand over my dick. "It feels amazing," I rasp. "Nervous?" I shut my eyes and shake my head. "Too drunk. No." His voice is soft. "Somebody else?"

"You're close. Just a few strokes and you're there, babe. I'll get up," he says, doing just that, "and pull my tank off for a towel."

I squeeze my eyes shut, imagining Ezra's mouth on my neck as I blow into my own hand.

"You smell good," I whisper. Just like Ezra. My eyes feel so heavy. "Let's get you to a cab, sweetie. I'm gonna let your friend the blond guy know the address if he's still here."

sick. I think of Ezra's arms around my waist. My hands sweat as I pull up the contact for Ez and send a text.

Everything is spinning. I hold my phone to my chest. "Ezra." I'm pathetic. And I know it.

Also because of this. My fucked-up obsession. Watching this guy that I don't even know as he lives his best semi-out gay life in fucking Auburn. My school's rival.

I make tea, but I can't drink it. I can't swallow. He doesn't want you, Ezra. Doesn't know you. He doesn't want you and he doesn't know you and he never will. He goes to Auburn.

shaking, and I can't stop. I take a Xanax and lie on the bed. No one wants you. Just delete your Snapchat, moron. So, I do. I delete the fucking app, and he posts them on Insta stories. They're in a dark car that has orange lights on the dashboard. They're smiling at the phone's cam.

"Oh God." I take the whole bottle of Xanax. It takes a while for it to feel wrong. But by then, I'm just too sleepy. I don't even think I care.

“Ezra what?” My voice sounds squeaky. “His mother called Carl last night. She told him Ezra’s unaccounted for at college. She came down to visit and he’s not in his dorm. Apparently he doesn’t have a car, and the cell phone he’s using isn’t the number we have for him. He had a falling out with his mom and…I’m not sure. Seems like they haven’t been in contact. But she says he’s missing, that the people on his hall say he’s been gone a few days, and she’s going to file a report. Carl doesn’t think that she can do that, given his age, but—”

“I’m calling you, Josh, only to just see if you know anything. Has he reached out to you? And can you keep an eye on your phone?”

“I don’t understand. The issue is he’s…no...

“Well, for three days. And she—his mother—can’t get in touch with him.” “Why is that an emergency?” “I don’t know, Joshua. That’s not the point. I called to let you know. To keep you informed....

“His mom said he’d been back in the hospital. For menta...

“I knew you’d have that ...

“I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” “When?” “When did he go to this place? She said it was right after he came to her house.” “She sent him to i...

“He wanted to go. He struggles with his mental health. That’s the concern, Josh. I don’t want to trouble you. I just wanted you to know.” “To know what? That he’s not safe and no one knows where he is? That his dumb fuck mother couldn’t even keep a cell phone on him that she can track from her phone?” “Joshua.” “Well, she is a dumb fuck! If she can’t do that. How the hell will they find him now?”

"But it wasn't, was it?" I shake my head. "None of that was your fault," he says, quiet and steady. "Whatever happened there—you wanted what you thought was best. Maybe to please your mom? Your pastor?" I nod, feeling like a fucking moron. "Did you want to be straight?" he asks me.

"I get it," he tells me. "Me too. For a long time. That's a failing of our modern Christianity. A really harmful one that hurts a lot of people. But it's different when it's you, isn't it? It's not theoretical or theological. For me, it all came down to a few memories. Like...these peak moments of feeling embarrassed. Or violated," he adds softly.

"That's how I felt," I say in a voice that sounds an octave too low.

"I'm here to listen to you. Anything you want to tell me. It will never leave this room. No matter what."

"It was okay at first."

"It wasn't that bad. We got grouped in cabins with someone from the opposite gender."

My throat's raspy, so I swallow, but it doesn't totally help. "My partner," I whisper, "was bi, I think. I think they did it that way. On purpose. So one of you ...

"Her name was Riley. She was young, too. Really young. Like middle school. I didn't get it at first. What we were meant to do.

"By the time I was understanding," I whisper, "they moved us out of our cabins. Which was a good thing," I add, finding my voice, "because it was fall and getting cold. They made us hunt and build our own fires. Shit like—stuff like that."

okay," he says softly. I'm not sure how to say the next part. He says, "Go on," in this soft voice. It's ...

"They moved us," I tell him. "We were in the cabins, but when they thought we were ready—based on cameras, cause they were watching us all the time—they would move us to the n...

"It turned out it was an old prison. Buildings. Up in...somewhere rural. N...

"They bought the prison first, then built the cabins. So they took us inside." I take a deep breath. I look at him again. "Th...

"She was on the girls' floor. I was on the boys. That's when shit got weird....

"Yes," he says. "My shit got weird too." I can tell by his face that he means that.

"I want Ezra,” I choke. More dry heaving. My chest aches. I can't see straight. "Jenna?"

"Josh, I'm kind of scared now." Her fingers on my eyelids, blurry living room and stinging throat. "Josh, are you okay?"

Just can't stop...dry heaving. I feel a pass out coming like it did...one other time. My body powering down. Flickering. Shaking. The last thought I have is: Maybe Carl will tell Ezra.

"Not that good." I try it in a whisper, but it still hurts. "I'm sorry, bud." Carl ruffles my hair, and my eyes fill up with shimmering tears.

"I really hope that's true, Josh," my mom tells me. She looks angry again. I swallow, which makes my eyes water. I can't fucking blame her.

"We met with a social worker while you were asleep,"

"What he recommended is for you to set up with a counselor. Do some sessions. Just unt...

kind of want it to be more organic…not because I watch you on snap all day and have this feeling we’re connected- when maybe we’re not.

“Mills.” Mills. Not Miller. Mills.

Ezra's here. He's here tonight!

And Josh Miller is my background photo. "Oh my God!”