Less than Perfect by S. J. Evans (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

.”
He let go of her sides and moved his hands to unclasp her belt-buckle. “Shh,” he hushed. “It’s okay, Princess. You just need to be taught a lesson, that’s all. It won’t hurt too badly.”
She wouldn’t let him do that to her, she couldn’t. “J—Johnny y—you,” she rasped. “You’re already hurting me!”
He shook his head, hushing her, and bent down near her ear. “Don’t struggle, Skylar. Or things will be much, much more uncomfortable and painful for you.”
Her stomach clenched, her nerves shattered, body went stiff. In her mind, all she wanted to do was struggle—struggle for her life. But her body kept telling her otherwise, collapsing on itself from the inside, all of the fight she’d once had had slipped away. She couldn’t look at him, disgusted by what he was starting to do to her and what he’d already done, and she had to grip onto the covers and close her eyes to think of something else. She had to think of Jules; although, the moment he came to her mind was the same moment she knew he couldn’t save her.
Then there was a ring in the distance. At first, Skye didn’t recognize it as anything special, she only thought it was more of the same ringing in her ears, but then Johnny covered her mouth again and hushed her, somewhat on high alert. Finally, she realized what it was.
It was the doorbell.
Skye tried to scream, to make an audible sound to give away her need for help, but from underneath Johnny’s hand it was only muffled. She tried to claw at his hand, but he only pinned her hands above her head again with his free hand and cursed.
“Stop it, Skylar,” he sneered. “You’re going to be quiet. Because I’m not letting anyone stop me from claiming you as mine.” His voice was low, deep, unyielding. He kept his hand over her mouth, watching as she squirmed and quivered underneath him, and started tearing her apart, ignoring the doorbell.
He even ignored the ringing cell phone in the distance—Skye’s cell phone. But she was fully aware of it, desperately trying to get her hands out of his grasp so that she could answer it. Although, it was no use, she was too weak and Johnny was too strong.
Shaking his head at Skye, Johnny squeezed her wrists painfully and pressed harder on her face. His large hand covered her nose for a moment, making it hard for her to breathe. “Stop fighting it, Skylar!” he hissed, voice low and deadly. “You’re making this so much harder for yourself! All I want is to teach you a lesson, to show you that I’m in control. Don’t you see it, Princess? You have no power in this situation. You were always destined to be mine, Skylar, so I suggest you stop fighting destiny before someone gets hurt.”
She couldn’t breathe. His hand was suffocating her as much as his words were, creating a sharp pang of pain in her lungs. Her heart started slowing, thumping against her chest as if it was about to explode, a sign that she was slipping away. Her eyelids went heavy, threatening to close, as her vision blurred and her breathing shuddered.
As she struggled to stay conscious and alive, holding onto what little hope she had for the person at the door, she managed to nod at Johnny before sinking into the bed, eyes slowly closing.
Johnny, smiling grimly in satisfaction, moved his hand off her face. His breathing was heavy and erratic, chest heaving. He watched her as she gasped for air, coughing and whimpering under his body. His dark eyes glimmered a little, with what, Skye didn’t look to see. Her eyes were still sewn shut, the crystal orbs out of sight.
Pain shot through her chest like a firework, a sharp pang of displeasure caused from none other than lack of air. She kept gasping for air, choked sobs quivering from her lips, as she winced in the pain and humiliation of what Johnny was putting her though. His hand lingered on her wrists for a moment before he took it away, touching her face with it instead.
She cringed at his touch, turning her face away. She couldn’t look him in the eyes as he invaded her so appallingly, chills crawling up her spine. Her heart began beating quicker, tapping obnoxiously. She couldn’t bear the horror, the thoughts of what Johnny was doing and was about to do to her. It was all too much for her to handle.
Something crashed against her lips, hard and unrelenting. He was doing it again, kissing her, tearing her apart from inside out. She bit down her screams, cries for help that was much needed, fearing what he would do to her and Leah if she so much as made a sound. He could kill. And she knew he was entirely prepared to do so if needed.
The situation disgusted her, threw her into a pit of darkness and guilt. She couldn’t handle the oppressive feeling that she was doing the wrong thing, that instead of listening to him and adhering to his threats she should fight with everything she has. But something in her heart told her that she was doing all she could, and if she were to fight him it would only result in someone else’s displeasure. And she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of ruining more than one person’s life. She could take the pain, humiliation, betrayal, and torment—as long as she knew it would save someone else.
So she let him do what he wanted, without struggling, knowing that she could handle it, somehow

, and in the end he wouldn’t hurt anyone else. She hated that she was giving herself to him, letting him take something so important to her away from her—he was trying to take away what little innocence she still had. Her body objected to his touch, shuddering beneath his large body. Her breathing was short and unsteady, still catching up from the violation.
That was when she knew exactly how she felt. She felt empty, hollow, like Johnny had taken away the life out of her. The world was hazy, clouded by her desperation to be somewhere else, the only things from the situation around her being his

touch and the deafening ring of a doorbell.
Vaguely, torn between the hazy reality and fantasy, she felt Johnny’s hands as they traveled down her body, tormenting her, bringing her down to the terrible level that was his own. Lifting her up by her hips, he slid off her jeans and tossed them away, groaning. A moment later, his hands returned to invading her body, starting at her stomach as he ripped off her shirt.
She gasped, unintentionally, and whimpered as his hot breath caressed her now exposed skin. She’d never felt as used as she felt in that moment, utterly exposed and useless. “Please,” she whispered. “Please don’t.”
He chuckled as he brushed his lips over her stomach, pecking her with kisses. “It’s too late, Skylar. You’ve left me with no other choice. I love you too much to let this pass.” His voice was quiet, less aggravated and harsh, and part of her wondered how he’d calmed down so easily.
She, on the other hand, was only thrown into more despair, tears gushing out of her eyes as she whimpered in disbelief. Sobs trembled from her lips and, gently, he put his hand back over her mouth and shook his head. Not only her conscience but also her body was aching to be free of him.
“Hush, Princess,” he whispered, wiping her tears away with his free hand as his legs pinned her beneath him. “It’ll be perfect this way.”
Someone’s voice echoed in the house, sending Skye’s body into high alert and desperation, and she used her hands, which had been clutching the bedding for support, to claw Johnny’s hand away so that she could scream one, shattering scream.
“Help!” she cried, desperately trying to get out from under Johnny but failing as his legs kept her trapped between him and the mattress. What she’d just done not only shocked Johnny, but it shocked her too. Fear instantly overwhelmed her—fear of what Johnny would do next, fear of not making it out of the situation at hand, and fear that whoever was inside the house with her wouldn’t make it out alive.
She glanced at Johnny, his face red, jaw set, eyes as dark as the midnight sky, and frantically shook her head. “I—I’m sorry, Johnny, I—” she stammered, pleading for forgiveness and understanding.
But he had no more sympathy, no more gentleness; he was only upset and cold—two things that didn’t spell good fortune for her. “I told you to stop, Princess,” he growled, grabbing her by the neck and squeezing her. “And because you didn’t listen, I’m going to hurt you, all over.” His voice was cold, dark, and merciless, utterly infuriated.
Her blood ran cold, shivers crawling up her spine as she choked for air to breathe. “I—I’m sorry,” she gasped, clawing at his arms in a feeble attempt at escape. She couldn’t breathe again, his hold on her throat painful and unrelenting.
“Me too,” he barked. In the blink of an eye, he released her neck, slapped her hard across the face and yanked his own shirt off. He cursed as someone’s voice came through the closed door of her bedroom, pleading with Skye to open the locked door. “Shut up and don’t fight me,” Johnny sneered at her. “Or I’ll kill your friend and Leah.”
She was sobbing, gasping for air to breathe as she rubbed her sore neck. Her face was searing with heat and pain, as if someone had torn off layers of skin, and her legs were aching from underneath Johnny’s heavy body. Jules

, she tried to scream, even though she’d never fully registered the voice of her possible savior outside the bedroom. Please, save me!

But her voice only failed her.
She knew she couldn’t fight Johnny, she’d have to let him do whatever he wanted if she wanted to save Leah and her friend, but her body was aching to escape his tormenting clutches,