Page 10 of Unorthodox
And her sessions with Ben were enough to have Addison crying for me in the night after three days.
Tomorrow evening, Ben leaves.
I don’t know if she’ll cry for me any more after that, but I guess we’ll see.
Now, though, nearing midnight as I wait outside of her room, I hear her pleading for me. And the damndest thing about manipulating a future slave? A girl that you want to break down to nothing?
They actuallywantyou when they think you’re not the monster.
And as long as you stay below the level of evil they’ve suffered during the day—in this case, Ben—you can get away with almost anything.
I’ll likely have a few weeks to play with her. A few weeks while her father scrambles for money that I couldn’t give a fuck about.
A few weeks, and I’ll get something back I thought I’d lost forever.
His fingerdown my spine is chilling.
Chilling, and taunting, and torture.
It reaches the waistband of my cotton pajamas, pauses, and for a second, I hold my breath.
Hoping.
Praying.
I don’t even believe in God, but for this to go further—for him to slide his finger into my shorts, shift around my hips to the front, slip in between my thighs andtouch me—I’d get on my knees and beg any god at all.
Doesn’t he know I’ve been waiting?
Doesn’t he know this secret in the dark isn’t just one way? It isn’t just his silent steps on the wooden floors I crave in the night. Not just his arms around me after a particularly hellish day.
It’s not just him driving this darkness.
Thismadness.
Not anymore.
Not since…
I don’t let myself think about it. My back is still sore. My wrists still hurt. I can still tasteBenon my tongue.
I don’t think about it.
The drugs make it easier.
Something is in my food.
It’s why she forces me to finish it, the woman that works in this house.
My mind is heavy, dull. But it keeps the pain away and lets Max touch me in ways I won’t resist. I don’t want to resist him under this haze.
Iwanthis touch.
But Max’s internal battle with himself is over and his finger slips up my spine again, causing me to shiver.
From the sensation.
And from the loss. From knowing he won’t do it. He won’tfullysatisfy me.
