Ripple Effect: A Novel by Adalynn Rafe Page A

of arrogance appeared on Leison, enthralled with her fear.
    “Who protects you, Cecily?” he asked quietly, pushing his palm against her chest and grasping tightly. She gasped. “Your Papa? Oh, that’s right . . . he’s not around, is he?” His hand dropped and he circled around to his desk, ignoring her sobs. “I know everything about you.”
    Vomit burned my throat—hers as well. White washed across her face and I feared she’d pass out from the trauma. Red, blotchy spots marked her fair skin, surely holding the early formations of bruises. She felt beaten down, violated, and assaulted. I felt violated and assaulted! It pained me to say this, but Cecily knew exactly what this was . . . molestation, maybe even rape.
    Mr. Leison stood before her now, holding her shoulders firmly as he spoke, looking directly into her eyes. “Fear is what fuels humanity, Cecily. And the one that holds the fear––controls humanity.”
    The lone light in the classroom beamed just above the door. It gave enough light to show the fear that flashed across her face. The tears on her rosy cheeks were like silver streams of horror.
    “I––why––I don’t?” she stammered.
    Earlier he had said, “Cecily Wolf, see me after class.” Why? She was always an honors student, so it clearly wasn’t her grades he wanted to discuss. She met with him and within minutes he was attacking her. Well, Cecily had no idea why. It couldn’t be the fact that too much thigh showed when she crossed her legs, or the way that her auburn hair cascaded down her back would drive any man crazy. Something was wrong with Cecily, something dark, and it showed in the way her eyes were dimming.
    That’s when the aching pain of being abandoned had intensified within her. It was then that Cecily knew that the nightmares would continue and they would never end. With all of that on her plate, it only made sense as to why she would go on a downward spiral of despair.
    Cecily refused to look at him. “You won’t get away with this,” she muttered.
    “Well, aren’t you the brave one?” Mr. Leison’s face contorted into a wicked grin. “You surely don’t act like a hero, do you?”
    Red stained her pale cheeks. She lashed out at him. “I hate you! You hurt me!”
    Mr. Leison grabbed her arms, shaking her once. He smiled, enticed by her anger. Leaning forward he said, “Interesting . . . it was you who seduced me to begin with.”
    “I did not!” She tried to squirm away from him. “You are lying!”
    He grabbed her chin in his hand violently, causing Cecily to yelp. “Of course you did. That little skirt that shows too much of your alabaster thigh, the curve hugging shirts, and the hair . . .” Leison took a long strand of tangled hair in his hand and looked down at it. “You know that it was you that seduced me.” He yanked it violently and she bit her cheek until it bled, holding back the scream that would get her murdered.
    “It’s not true,” she hissed, tempted to spit her blood into his face.
    Fascinated by her, he stroked her cheek slowly, up to her temple. “Sweet, little, innocent Cecily, filled with so much hatred––so much darkness. What is it that has you so distraught?” He barely traced her soft lips with the cold pad of his fingertip. Her lips quivered and she looked away. “You like my touch, don’t you?”
    Closing her eyes, she fought vomit. “Don’t touch me.”
    “You like this, Cecily,” Leison said, his eyes lit with satisfaction. Grazing her arm, his hands followed the contours of her shoulders and he stood behind her now. “You asked for it, remember?”
    Cecily’s eyes opened wide, filled with panic. Not again, she surely thought.
    “I heard the psychologist say that you were going through minor psychosis, the nightmares gave it away.” His body pressed tightly against the length of her back, his arms wrapping tightly around her middle.
    Her eyes squeezed shut, her face tensed in dreadful