Chapter 9 Nobody is coming to save you

Gabriel's POV

The water was getting colder, but the air in the tiny bathroom felt like it was boiling.

I was pressed so far back into the corner of the shower stall that the grout was digging into my spine. Derek didn’t care. He stepped into the spray, the water slicking his hair back and making the muscles in his chest look even more intimidating.

He looked like a masterpiece made of marble and malice. And me? I felt like a stray dog caught in a rainstorm.

"The soap, Gabe," he said, his voice dropping an octave, vibrating against the tile. "Don’t tell me you have forgotten how to be useful already."

He held out his hand, palm up. I reached for the bar of soap with fingers that felt like they were made of lead. When I handed it to him, our skin touched for a split second, and a jolt of electricity shot straight to my gut. I hated it. I hated that my body didn’t get the memo that this man was my destroyer.

"Wash my back," he commanded, turning around.

I took a shaky breath, the steam filling my lungs until I felt lightheaded. I rubbed the soap between my palms until a thick lather formed, then I touched him.

His skin was hot searingly hot. My small, pale hands looked ridiculous against the broad, tan expanse of his back. I moved my hands in slow circles, tracing the dip of his spine, the hard planes of his shoulders. He let out a low, satisfied hum that made my knees weak.

Then, he turned around.

The water was hitting him squarely on the chest now, splashing onto my face. I blinked, my glasses fogged and useless, but I could see his eyes. They weren't cold anymore. They were dark. Predatory.

"You missed a spot," he whispered. He took my wrist, his grip firm but not painful, and guided my soapy hand down. Down past his stomach. Down to where the water was pooling at his waist.

My heart wasn't just beating, it was slamming against my ribs like a trapped bird.

"Derek... please," I choked out.

"Please what, Gabriel? Please stop? Or please keep going?"

He leaned in close, his wet chest brushing against mine. The contrast was devastating, his hard, heavy heat against my soft, trembling frame.

"I am giving you an honor here. Most guys would kill to be where you are right now. Wash me."

I did it. I had to. My hand moved, slick with soap, and the feeling of him, the sheer, overwhelming reality of his body sent a wave of traitorous heat through me. I was terrified, I was humiliated, but God, I was aching. I was a pathetic mess, crying in a shower while my hands committed treason.

Derek’s breath hitched. He tilted his head back, his eyes closing for a second, and for that one moment, the power shifted. He looked vulnerable. But then he snapped his eyes open and the predator was back. He shoved me away, the sudden movement splashing water into my mouth.

"Enough," he snapped, the heat in his voice turning back to ice. "I don't have all night to wait for a nerd to find his spark."

He stepped out of the tub, grabbing a towel and drying himself off like I wasn't even there. He reached for a black designer bag he had dropped by the sink and tossed it at my feet. It hit the wet floor with a heavy thud.

"Put those on," he said, not looking at me. "My father already thinks you are a charity case. He told me he doesn't want to see those cheap, oversized rags you call clothes at his table. You aee going to look like a Miller tonight, even if it’s a lie."

The clothes were black silk. They felt like a second skin, too expensive, too smooth, and way too revealing. The trousers hugged my thighs, and the shirt was cut so perfectly it made my frame look delicate, almost elegant. I looked in the mirror and didn't recognize the boy staring back. I looked like a prize. A trophy.

The car ride was a nightmare. Derek drove his sports car like he was trying to outrun the devil.

We were flying down the dark roads, the engine roaring, while I sat in the passenger seat with my eyes squeezed shut, clutching the door handle until my knuckles were white. He didn't say a word. He just smirked every time I gasped when he took a corner too fast. He wanted me to know that my life was in his hands. Literally.

When we reached the estate, the gates opened like a giant, iron mouth. The mansion was a monstrosity of white stone and glowing windows. It was beautiful. It was a prison.

My mom was standing on the grand porch. She looked like a stranger. She was draped in a silver silk gown, diamonds sparkling at her throat, her hair perfectly coiffed. She looked like she had been born for this. She didn't look like the woman who used to cry over the electricity bill.

"There you are!" she chirped as we stepped out of the car. She didn't look at my red-rimmed eyes or the way I was shaking. She looked at Derek.

"Derek, dear, thank you for bringing him. Gabriel, come, say hello to my honey."

Mr. Miller, was standing in the foyer. His eyes instantly beamed with light when he saw me approaching him, I couldn't tell if he was faking it or he was actually excited.

"Welcome, Gabriel," he said, his voice a deep, rehearsed baritone. "My brilliant boy. I hope Derek didn't stress you out."

"No...not at all," I stuttered, looking at the floor.

Before we could head to the dining room, my mother’s hand clamped onto my upper arm. It wasn't a hug. Her nails dug into my silk sleeve as she pulled me into a darkened side hallway.

"Listen to me, Gabriel," she hissed, her face inches from mine. The tender mask was gone, her eyes were hard and desperate.

"This is my one shot. Do you understand? Don't mess this up for me with your constant depression."

"Mom, you don't know what he's doing to me....."

"I don't care!" she snapped, her voice a sharp whisper.

"Whatever petty bullying is happening, you deal with it. You play the part. You smile, you eat, and you pretend you and Derek are the best of friends. If you ruin this marriage with your drama or your insecurities, I will never forgive you. For once in your life, Gabriel, be useful and keep your mouth shut."

She shoved me back, smoothed her dress, and walked back into the light with a radiant smile.

I stood there in the shadows, my heart feeling like it had finally shattered. My mother had sold me.

I looked up and saw Derek leaning against the archway at the end of the hall. He had seen everything. Maybe even heard everything.

He watched me with a slow, cruel smirk, his tongue darting out to lick his lower lip.

"See, Gabe?" he mouthed silently. "Nobody is coming to save you from me"