Page 4 of Broken by my Bully
I muster up courage from somewhere and attempt a tentative knock that goes unanswered after several thundering heartbeats.
There’s no more courage left for another knock, let alone trying to open the door.
I should leave.
I can explore the campus until my next class…whenever the hell that is. At least I know I’ll get a text ten minutes beforehand.
As I turn to go, the door opens behind me, and sound floods into the hall as if I took off a pair of noise-canceling headphones.
The professor’s deep, melodic voice.
The tap-tap-tap of students making notes on their laptops.
A cough, someone clearing their throat?—
“Yeah, just fucking hold on, would you? I’m not supposed to be taking calls in class.”
My entire body goes rigid.
Oh God.
Not him.
Not now.
I don’t want to turn back, but I’ve lost control of my body, my muscles operating on someone else’s instruction. I spin on my heel, staring wide-eyed at the student exiting the lecture hall.
He’s got nearly a foot of height on me, wearing gray joggers, expensive-looking white sneakers, a branded black college sweater with the sleeves pushed up. His chaotic golden-brown hair sways as he stalks away from me.
Did I summon him by repeatedly wishing he wouldn’t be here, like what happens when you say Bloody Mary in the mirror three times?
He hasn’t spotted me. I could still get out of this unscathed. I mean, no way he’s in my class. He’s too old. Means he was just stopping by. Maybe had a message for the professor.
Don’t look, don’t look, don’t?—
He glances over his shoulder.
And then gives me a double take.
He’s already halfway down the hall, but when he recognizes me, he stops walking. Tilts his head. And stalks back toward me.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
A rush of icy panic freezes me in place.
My feet might as well be planted in fucking concrete.
A cruel, sardonic smile spreads over his wide mouth. “Look what crawled out of the fucking gutter,” he calls out so loud I flinch.
Damn it, Haven,move!
“Haven motherfucking Lee. Thought I smelled trash and cum.” He tilts his head, so close I can catch a whiff of his expensive cologne.
The malice in his green eyes keeps me pinned like a hand on my throat. And then, because I’m an idiot, and I don’t run, itishis hand pinning me against the wall.
I gasp in shock, but it only takes a second before he’s cut off my air.
He was always bigger and stronger than me, but the feel of his hand wrapping around my entire throat…? It used to take both his hands, back when we?—
