Page 178 of Broken by my Bully
And that’s saying a lot after what just happened under this bed.
Bastian had all my clothes laundered. Those that I’d brought along with me on this adventure of a lifetime, anyway. Was it because they smelled bad? Because they looked bad? Or because he just knew it was probably a while since they’d been washed?
He’s everywhere, fixing shit I didn’t ask him to fix. And the fucked up part? Some pathetic piece of me wants to let him.
“Hey, you almost done? I want to turn off the light.”
“Yeah,sure,” I mumble, dragging an oversized t-shirt out of the duffel and holding it up to my nose. One of Bastian’s hoodies would have been nice.
I freeze up.
God, when did I start thinking shit like that?
Melissa groans. “Could you do it for me? It’s all the way over there.”
I glance at her over my shoulder. She’s reaching for the night lamp, her fingers inches away.
“Don’t stop,” I say. “You’re so close.”
Her eyes go wide. I keep staring at her, refusing to look away. She lunges forward and flicks the switch, throwing the room into darkness.
I smile as I turn back to my bed, letting my towel drop to the floor and pulling the t-shirt over my head. Then I scoop all my junk off the foot of the bed, not batting an eye as it all crashes to the carpet.
“Jesus,” Melissa mutters from the bed. “Keep it down.”
She left herself wide open on that one, but I don’t take the bait. I’m done with this day.
But even after I crawl into my first proper bed in months, and I close my eyes, and I slow my breathing…sleep evades me.
I can’t stop thinking about Kai. About the awful thing he did to me.
About how fucking good it felt.
I don’t have any classes tomorrow, but Kai knows where I am now. I could stay inside this house all day, but there’s a chance he could slip in again, undetected.
Time to repay some of my debts.
And no, Kai doesn’t fucking count.
Although even as that thought crosses my mind, I already know I’llhaveto pay him back. He has lent me a lot more than a few hundred bucks over the years.
I drag my phone off the nightstand, checking the time.
It’s a few minutesto midnight.
I open my messages and spend about ten minutes typing a DM.
@lee.haven
I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done.
Want to have lunch tomorrow? My treat.
It’s the least I can do.
I chew my lip.
This is so fucked.
