𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

38

The air is squeezed from my lungs in a sudden rush as my back collides with the ground, Eric's palm on my chest, holding me down. If he thinks I'm ever having sex with him again, he can go hump his hand.

"Pay attention. You're still terrible at defending yourself."

Fuck you.

We've been at this for hours, and I'm contemplating throwing myself from the dome with how sore my body is. Eric thought it would be a good idea to start training again, a way to pass time. He brought me and Ains to the sports centre in VIP so she can swim, and so the tit can beat the shit out of me.

It's been a strange week, to say the least. Ainsley's parents don't want her back in their house, so she's staying with mine. Mum nearly took Fiona off her feet when she lunged for her daughter during the meeting a few days ago, and told her and Phillip they are no longer welcome in the manor.

Apparently, if Ainsley doesn't abort the child, they said they'll disown her. So my best friend disowned them first. She's in turmoil, constantly stressing and wondering what the hell she's going to do. This morning, Eric overheard her telling me that the child will have a short life, an expectancy of around seven years with the lack of resources, so he told Ains to get dressed and to come with us.

If she isn't at the medical building, she's glued to my side, which I don't mind. It does make things harder for Eric and I to see each other, but he gets it. I mean, I have snuck into his room a few times now, been dragged into a walk-in cupboard, having his lips covering mine as soon as we're alone in a room.

We had a meeting in his little security room last night, and as soon as his men left, I was on my knees under his desk with his cock in my mouth, before Eric bent over it. I think it was around four in the morning when he messaged me, asking if I was awake, and I barely made it into his room before he took me against the door.

He isn't a fan of wearing condoms, though. When I showed him the envelope the nurse had given me, he wanted my permission to bin it. I'd said no, obviously.

And now we have three left.

I'm excited. I can't wait to go to his place and be alone with him, for us to have all the time in the world. Just a few more days until the security system is rejigged, and then we don't need to sneak around as much. Things have been good, thrilling, especially now that Eric managed to get my dad off his back about who I had been sleeping with.

Apparently, he had given my dad a name, but I've not to worry about it because it was settled. We haven't been caught, and Dad has moved on to dealing with dome business and ways to control the idiots that keep terrorising us.

Before, I had felt sorry for the ones who were angry. They lost a lot, they lost family, friends, and they are going to lose their lives too. Eventually. But taking it out on my dad, who gave them sanctuary, food and water, healthcare and education, including many other resources for mental health, sports, and recreation, is starting to grind on me.

I had walked into the dining room to see him in my mum's lap, sobbing, broken. She was running her fingers through his hair, shushing him, offering reassurance that he isn't a failure and he's doing everything he can. It's not his fault, none of this is.

I'm pretty close to showing up at the next town meeting and giving them all a piece of my mind.

Living out the rest of our years is all we can do, why do it in fear of being attacked? Of being chased into buildings and shot at? No, it's not happening, and if it were up to me, I'd tell them all if they don't like it, to leave. There are four exits out of the dome, go take their pick.