Page 198 of Broken by my Bully
How does he do that? Go from threatening to almost...normal? It’s like someone flipping a switch.
Wish I had one of those.
“You ever get bored with small town life?” he asks casually, like he didn’t just claim ownership of my pussy on the side of the fucking road. Like he didn’t just force me to strip in a boutique dressing room.
I study his profile, trying to figure out his scheme. But his face gives nothing away.
“Why do you want to know?” My voice comes out rougher than intended.
“It’s called making conversation. You should try it sometime. Great way to make friends.” Simple. Matter-of-fact. Condescending as fuck.
Part of me wants to tell him to fuck off. But the part that’s still aching between my legs, that’s exhausted from fighting, is almost grateful for the reprieve. For the chance to pretend, even for a few minutes, that this is just a normal conversation between two people.
Even if we both know it’s not.
Even if we both know he’s just gathering ammunition.
“No. Not really,” I mutter, shifting in my seat. The leather squeaks beneath me, probably still damp from my arousal. “Trailer park. Food stamps. The usual sob story.”
“Not even as a kid? I mean, this place doesn’t even have a movie theater.”
“I played outside a lot.” As in, always.
“So you enjoy nature.” I roll my head against the headrest, catching him nod. “Know any good hiking trails around here?”
“Pfft. I’m not that kind of outdoorsy.”
“Okay, then illuminate me.”
“I had…a friend. We used to play in the woods a lot.”
Shit. Why am I telling him this? I’m just giving him pieces of me and Kai to dissect later.
“When was this?”
Just keep it vague, Haven.
“I was really young.”
“Pick up any hobbies when you got older?”
“Hobbies?” I snort and shake my head, turning to look out the window. The Tesla’s windows are so big it feels like we’re driving around in a goldfish bowl. I can see everything. “Nope. Always just the woods.”
“Even in middle school?”
I glance at Bastian, frowning at his bemused tone. “Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. I just thought you’d have more interests.”
“Like what? Chess club? Cheerleading? Do I honestly strike you as the kind of person who does any of that kind of bullshit?”
Fuck knows why that makes him smile. “So it was always just you and your friend, in the woods.”
“Until I started working part time.”
“Are you still friends with them? Do they live in town?”
“Why does it matter?” I turn in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest.
