Page 26 of Broken by my Bully
Where the hell is Professor Rooke?
Kai stares down his nose at me, and there’s such disgust in his eyes that I can feel just how sweaty, sticky, and greasy I am. I wasn’t expecting anyone to get this close to me. If I had, I’d have washed my hair.
He tugs me forward so hard that I fall against his warm, hard body. When I push at his chest, he grabs the top of my bare arm. His hand is just as warm, but viciously tight when he shakes me.
“Which professor’s load did you swallow for that grant? Rooke? Jetson? Or did you have to go down on the Dean?” he mutters through clenched teeth.
“What’s with your dick-sucking obsession?” I hate how breathless I sound. So frantic. “Your girlfriend not giving you enough head, you fucking loser?”
He laughs. A cruel, mirthless sound I’ve never heard him makebefore, even back when he was forcing me to walk the plank after the whole mutiny affair.
“Why would I want anyone else when I’ve got Agony Hollow’s newest whore right here?” He lowers his shoulders until we’re on eye level. “Besides, other girls don’t scream like you do. And they sure as fuck don’t make me as hard when they bleed.”
I always loved his eyes.
Verdant green, like the leaves and vines and ferns that served as a backdrop for all his wild fantasies.
His joy was unquenchable back then. Even if he had a fight with his brother, or his parents had cussed him out for something, he’d rant about it for all of a minute before announcing the theme of that day’s adventure. And then we’d be off, both our lives forgotten at the border of the small creek we crossed each day.
Young Kai would look back at me, white teeth flashing in his tanned face, green eyes gleaming with excitement. And I’d feel safe and happy, my life brimming with potential.
But his eyes have changed. There’s darkness, and malice, and something I can’t identify swimming in them. Something that makes me feel guilty, but I don’t know why.
Those eyes are fucking terrifying.
He releases my wrist and grabs my chin. For a second, his gaze drops to my mouth. For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me. My stomach tightens, mouth drying in nervous anticipation.
But that darkness floods his irises as his gaze locks back on my eyes.
“You’re so pathetic. Charity case Haven, begging for scraps at the rich kids’ table. You’ll always be Riverside trash, no matter whose dick you suck.”
He shoves me away from him, straight into the edge of the table, so hard that I bounce off and go sprawling on the floor. I gasp as pain lances through my side.
Fuck, that’s going to leave a mark.
I jump up as he comes closer, but I’ve barely found my feetbefore he grabs the back of my head and slams it down on the table. Somehow I get my hands up in time so my forehead doesn’t crack that hard against the table, but I’m still reeling and weak in the knees.
I grab my bag instead of the table when I try to stop myself crashing to the ground as my legs give in. Books and notes and my pen tumble to the linoleum beside me as I land hard on my ass.
Before I can scramble up and sprint out of the lecture hall, the door opens, and Professor Rooke strides in.
Suddenly Kai’s by my side, dragging me to my feet.
“Jesus, Haven, you’re still clumsy as fuck. Guess some things never change,” he says, a laugh threaded through his words.
I pull myself out of his grip as my teacher walks closer. “Don’t touch me!” I hiss.
Kai turns his back on Professor Rooke, grabs my cardigan where it landed on the floor, and shoves it against my chest. “Put it on.Now.” The last word is a quiet snarl.
I’m shaking as I back up, hands trembling as I somehow wrestle my arms through the sleeves. Then Kai’s grinning, picking up my bag and handing it to me as he turns to greet Rooke. “Morning, Professor.”
I must be gaping like a beached fish, because my teacher gives me a quizzical stare. “Everything all right, Miss Lee?”
“She tripped,” Kai says, holding out his hand. “Can I get you set up?”
Rooke’s eyes stay fixed on mine as he slips the strap of his satchel off his shoulder and hands it to Kai. “Youmay.”
“May,” Kai mutters sourly as he takes the bag and goes to unpack Professor Rooke’s things on the desk. I flinch when he starts whistling. I swear to God, it’s the same tune he used to whistle when we were kids.
