Page 25 of Broken by my Bully (Lessons in Cruelty Dark Academia #1)

Melissa sets up her phone on the dresser, aiming it toward the floor where we’re sitting before taking a seat opposite me again.

“Okay, let’s start. We’ll do rock, paper, scissors to see who starts.”

She wins and wriggles her shoulders victoriously as she pulls the elastic off the stack of laminated cards. There’s a big ONE on the first card, and she turns it over to read what’s on the other side.

She shakes her head as she hands over the card. “Ugh, salmonella? No thanks.”

I frown at her. Look at the card. My eyebrows shoot up .

Cruelty

Read your partner’s last five text messages out loud.

Consequence

Eat a raw egg, shell and all.

“Seriously?” I groan.

Melissa shrugs again and holds out her hand.

“This is an invasion of privacy.” I cringe, but hand over my phone, doing my level best not to look toward the dresser as I casually take a sip of soda.

Melissa glances up at me after a few seconds. “There’s nothing on here.”

I shrug at her. “You’ve made your choice.”

She smiles at that, and, surprisingly, it lasts longer than a millisecond this time. Then her smile fades, and she gives me a hard stare.

“Hmm.” She cocks her head at me, her red hair flat against her cheek. “Pretending to be a goody two shoes, and then I find this?”

Heat surges up my neck. “What did you find?”

“God, are you blushing? What is this, sixteenth-century Verona?”

She glances at my phone again, eyes narrowing, then smiles. It’s not a particularly friendly smile.

“I underestimated you, Haven Lee.”

I open my mouth to come to my own defense, but she raises a finger. “We’re too sober for this mindfuckery.”

Melissa gets to her feet and goes to her closet. My gaze follows her until I realize I’m staring point blank at the camera. I quickly avert my eyes, keeping them fixed on the snacks until she’s sitting in front of me again.

She sets two plastic shot glasses down on the envelope and pours us each a tequila.

When I groan, she tuts at me with a finger.

“When did this turn into a drinking game?” I say as I hold up the shot glass.

“When he told us to ‘have fun with it.’ Only way that’s happening is with tequila.” She gives me a pained smile. “No offense.”

“So much taken,” I mutter sourly.

We tap our glasses and throw back the tequila.

It’s like swallowing oil. Only someone set it on fire first.

“So, chronologically from the fifth message,” Melissa says, holding up my phone again. She glances toward the dresser. “Names have been changed to protect the innocent.”

That makes me giggle, because thinking of Professor Rooke as innocent is hilarious.

“Person one. Thank you for your submission. Person two. Sorry about today.”

She reads the rest of the messages while I try not to spontaneously combust. Then she blows out a breath and gives me back my phone. “Rock, paper, scissors.”

I clap my hands over my face when she wins again. “This sucks!”

She rubs her hands, clicking two of her rings together, then shakes them out and draws the next card.

“Hmm…” Melissa looks over at me, eyes narrowed. “Another shot.”

I don’t argue. Judging from her expression, she has a hard decision to make. We clink our tiny glasses and pour the liquid down our throats. She shudders, and I gag.

“I’ll suffer the consequence.”

“Really?”

She holds the card out to me between two fingers. “Yeah. I got this.” Then she leans forward and closes her eyes like she’s preparing for something.

I glance down at the card, and my lips purse into a bemused smile.

Cruelt y

Review your partner’s appearance out loud in the most critical light possible.

Consequence

Allow your partner to slap you across the face.

I rub my hands together and shake them out, just like she did.

Melissa peeks at me from one eye. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Invasion of privacy sucks ,” I say with a grin. I don’t add that getting the chance to mar her perfect face, or get her back for all the snide comments is going to fill cup until it runneth over.

“Yeah, well, I like it rough some—” She cuts off with a gasp as my palm connects with her cheek.

I didn’t mean to hit her so hard. The way her neck snaps to the side, it’s like her head almost came off.

“Shit, are you okay?” I scramble forward, grabbing her shoulder.

She knocks my arm away. “Is there a handprint?” she mumbles, straightening as she gingerly touches her face.

My lips twist. “Kinda.”

“Damn, girl. Remind me never to piss you off.” She gives me an admiring look, and her smile actually shows a glimpse of her teeth. Then holds out her arm, getting ready for the next round.

I crow out in victory when I win, crack my knuckles, and slowly ease the third card off the stack.

Straightening my arms and flicking my hand, I wriggle on my cushion to get comfy?—

“God, just do it already.” Melissa’s half-yelling, but there’s a smile hinting at the corners of her mouth.

I’m full-on smiling, so fucking happy that I finally have the upper?—

Shit.

“Shit.”

“What? What is it?” Melissa scans my face and then holds out her hand. “No, wait. I don’t like that look,” she says, circling a finger in front of my face, then pointing at the bottle of tequila.

I pour us each another shot.

We clink, we swallow.

“Fuck!” I mumble, squeezing my eyes shut against the burn.

This time, the burn in my throat seems to spread through my whole body. I feel light, as if I took a big breath I’d start floating.

Must be the booze. I’ve never let myself get drunk before. I thought it would be better than this. More…exciting.

“Come on, show me already,” Melissa demands like a toddler about to throw a tantrum.

I grab an Oreo, crunching loudly on it as I show Melissa the card. Crumbs rain onto the carpet, but she’s too busy gaping at the card.

“I let you slap me,” she blurts out, eyes wide.

I laugh, and almost choke on a cookie crumb. “You didn’t let me do anything. You chose a slap.”

She lifts a hand to the red handprint on her cheek. “It was fucking hard.”

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

There’s panic in her eyes now. “Fuck that. You’re?—“

She cuts off with a jerk when I growl out, “Of course I won’t. Who in their right mind could?” I roll my eyes at her, tossing down the card between us. “Fuck.”

Cruelty

Write a cruel word on your partner’s cheek with a permanent marker.

Consequence

Relive your most recent sexual encounter in graphic detail.

We both stare at the card.

“I mean…is he even allowed to do shit like this?” I mutter softly so my voice won’t get picked up by Melissa’s phone.

“Stories I’ve heard?” Melissa’s eyes are round when I glance up at her. “He’s done much worse. ”

“What?”

She glances over at her phone. “I need to go pee,” she says loudly. “Gonna hit pause quick.”

On the second try, she gets to her feet, and goes to fetch her phone. I watch her with a cold, sinking feeling in my stomach that has nothing to do with the three shots of tequila simmering down there.

She taps on her phone, and then holds up a finger, leaning in with a serious look on her face. “This is just what I’ve heard, okay? Could all be rumor.”

“Tell me,” I snap.

“Okay, so, one of my sorority sisters told me that Daddy Rooke moved to Agony Hollow because he fucked up real bad at his last college.”

“Fucked up how?”

“He was experimenting on his students.”

I lean back. “Like…in a laboratory?”

She laughs. “No, like psychologically.” She taps her temple. “Manipulation. Gaslighting.” She flicks the card onto the floor between us. “Weird games and assignments.” A shrug. “I mean, it could be total bullshit, but you’ve met him.” The side of her mouth lifts. “You’ve been alone with him.”

I hold out my hand. “Stop it. It wasn’t like that. He just gave me that book. The Lucifer Effect? For class.” I realize I’m blabbing, and press my lips closed.

Melissa sits back, taking a deep breath.

“Fuck it, I’m not judging, Haven. God knows I’ve done some questionable shit in my life.

” For a moment, she looks lost, like she opened a door expecting to see stairs, and found a wall behind it.

“But damn it, you’re nasty for not sharing.

I need more content for my fantasy folder. ”

“You fantasize about Professor Rooke?” My face is getting hotter every second.

“You don ’t?” She looks disgusted. “What’s wrong with you? You’re not a Mormon, are you? ”

That makes me laugh, but it sounds shrill, so I cut it off.

“You’re weird,” she mutters, shaking her head as she crawls back to the dresser to replace her phone.

“Thanks, Haven,” she says woodenly, and much too loudly, as she crawls back to me. “I feel so much better now.”

I snort at her bad acting, and she rolls her eyes at me.

I point to the card. “I will face the consequences!”

She mock-gasps.

But then I realize what I’m about to say, and my cheeks start to glow. “So…uh…there was this guy…”

“An older guy?” she says, lips squirming as she tries to keep a straight face.

I lift my hands. “Just a guy, Melissa!”

“Okay, okay.” She crosses her arms. “A hot guy, at least?”

“Uh, yeah! Definitely.” I hear my words echo back and bite the inside of my lip. But the tequila gives me a little more courage, and the alternative is defiling Melissa’s immaculate face with a permanent marker.

Low blow, Bastian.

Low fucking blow.

But there’s no way I’m telling anyone about what happened in the library with Kai. I mean, who’s going to know if I lie? All this exercise is about is figuring out if you’d rather hurt yourself or someone else. As long as I make it convincing, no one’s going to know.

Kai’s not the only one with an imagination. The secret is adding just enough truth to make it resonate.

“Okay, so, nothing major,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “I, uh, gave a guy head in his car.” I let out a rush of breath, and hold out my hand for our next round of rock, paper, scissors.

“Oh, no, missy.” Melissa picks up the card and points out a word. “Graphic. Graphic detail.”

I grab the front of my throat, shaking my head.