Page 28 of Broken by my Bully (Lessons in Cruelty Dark Academia #1)

Kai

You know what’s bullshit? That thing about time healing all wounds. Time doesn’t heal shit. Time just takes the sting out of the memory, so you can convince yourself that it doesn’t hurt anymore. So eventually you can convince yourself that it never hurt in the first place.

I spent three years stoking my hatred for Haven, letting it simmer to a scalding tar.

Hating her became an unhealthy obsession.

I’d spend my nights on the edge of sleep, dredging up old memories, fond memories, so I could find little details about her to hate.

Her laugh.

The way she’d clap her hands in excitement when I handed her candy.

Her soft hair.

Her even softer skin.

Sometimes I was so busy replaying those happier times that I’d briefly forget to hate her. I’d smile at the memories, shaking my head at how innocent we were.

Until the maple tree memory came to me, like it always did.

That was the last time I saw Haven before she abandoned me, leaving wreckage and ruin in her wake with the empathy of a fucking hurricane.

I rebuilt. I thought my foundations was stronger. But Hurricane Haven is rattling the shutters again.

It’s been days since I’ve seen her. Not a peek of her wavy brown hair or a glimpse of her confused, angry blue eyes. Even the memory of her trapped under the desk, her pink lips stretching over my cock, is fading.

Her absence lulls me into a false sense of security, my weekend passing in a blissful haze of drinking, video games, and partying. I even get some studying done.

I was too wasted to track down her father. I’d have to drive all the way to fucking Ashwood Crossing, for starters. And it would have taken most of the day just to find out where they live.

She must have leased a place in town while she’s in college. No way she’s driving an hour to get here, and then back, every day.

I should be happy for her finally getting out of the toxic environment she was living in. But fuck her.

My class timetable is lax. I could have added a bunch of electives, but I already have a job waiting for me after graduation, so what’s the point? My only goal in life was to get the hell out of Agony Hollow, and soon as I’m done with my degree, that shit’s becoming a reality.

Monday I spend the whole day recovering from the weekend, preparing myself in case Haven shows.

By the time Rooke’s next class rolls around, I’m a new man, ready for anything.

So it shouldn’t catch me off guard when Haven walks into class with a smile, Melissa at her side like they’re suddenly BFFs.

But it does, and I hate her for that.

Into the fire it goes.

That heat is physical, crawling up my neck, down to my cock. It flips a switch inside me, and suddenly I’m glowering at her as I think about all the ways I can make her whimper in pain .

But there’s a spark of admiration deep inside me, too. I’ve forgotten just how easily she dusts herself off.

We’re both resilient like that.

Maybe that’s why we were such good friends when we were kids.

We both knew exactly what we needed to do in order to survive…and we never hesitated.

I pull out my phone and scroll through the photos I’ve been taking of her.

Haven walking to her car.

Haven working at that shitty diner.

Haven reading in the campus gardens.

I’ve been keeping tabs on her ever since the library, and she has no fucking clue.

The power is intoxicating.

Especially watching her sleep in the backseat of her car at Lookout Point.

I took a photo of that too.

Right before I took my cock out and jerked off outside her car window.

There’s probably still some of my cum on her car’s back tire.

Rooke is late again. Second time this semester. Does that mean the other urban legends about him are bullshit too? Like how he goes through two thousand-dollar bottles of whiskey a weekend and giving a hefty cut of his paycheck to an animal shelter?

My eyes find Haven and latch on, but she’s oblivious as she talks to Melissa.

I smile as I think about the library book sitting on the shelf in my dorm room. Every time I see it, I give it a little pat. It makes my heart sing to know she’s not passing this class because I?—

Haven’s attention is still on Melissa as she puts a hand in her tote bag and pulls out a copy of The Lucifer Effect.

Motherfucker.

A message comes through on my phone, but I’m glaring at Haven so hard I’m loath to look at it.

@rooke.bastian

Will be late.

Refer to attached notes and start class.

A PDF comes through a few seconds later. I’m so fucking stoked, I even forget to hate Haven for a hot second.

I tap on the file and give it a quick scan.

Then I run a hand through my hair as I get to my feet. It shouldn’t feel different, but it’s as if there are suddenly a hundred kids in class, not forty.

You got this, Kai.

“Hey, so, Rooke’s—” I clear my throat. “Your professor is running late.”

My voice starts out shaky and thick. Barely anyone even looks over at me. Have to swallow because it feels like there’s something stuck in my throat. I clear it with a cough, and everyone just carries on while I’m trying to keep calm.

“I’m gonna start class today.” Now the only person looking at me is Haven. Frowning, actually. Like she’s waiting for me to pull a fucking rabbit out of my non-existent hat.

“Quiet.”

But the assholes in the back just keep talking, and Haven just keeps frowning, so I stride over to the lectern and bang it twice with my fist.

“Yo! Shut the fuck up!”

That gets everyone’s attention, especially Haven’s. When I glance at her, those puppy eyes are as wide as little blue saucers .

“Right. Hope you all finished your assignments this weekend?” I glance down at the file open on my cellphone. “You need to upload your videos to this shared drive.”

I go over to the board and write out the link Rooke included in the notes.

“Is that an I or an L?” someone calls from the back.

“One. It’s a one .” I add the little legs and little cap to the numeral and then I read the link out slowly for anyone who didn’t take their Omega caps this morning.

“Okay, envelopes.” I take my seat, legs spread wide as I wait, but it looks like they’re all too chicken shit to come up.

“Jesus, fine,” I mutter, getting up again. I walk up to Haven, fucking loving how the blood drains from her face the closer I get. But I turn at the last second, heading to the end of the row instead.

Students hand me their envelopes when I hold out my hand. One of them is blank.

I panic, freeze up. But Rooke put me in charge, and that means shit’s gotta be done right.

I drop the envelope back on the girl’s lap desk. Tap it with a finger.

“Name.”

“He didn’t say we had to put our names on it.”

I helped type up the assignment, so I know why she doesn’t want to incriminate herself. Rooke’s fucking mental. But it’s his class, his rules. He said to make sure the envelopes had the students’s names on it so here we are.

“If you don’t put your names on it, how the hell would he know you’ve submitted it?” When I tilt my head at her, she groans and quickly scribbles her and her partner’s name on the envelope.

It goes on top of the stack in my hand as I make my way through the students.

I leave Haven and Melissa for last, because fuck Haven.

It’s her new BFF that hands me the envelope though, and for a split second I wonder if Haven told Parker about us.

Like what happened at the diner. Or under the table in the library.

But when I look at Melissa, she just watches me, expressionless.

But that’s kind of her face’s default setting, so who knows?

Haven makes a point of looking down at her notes, seemingly oblivious to my presence.

Pretend all you want, Miss H. This monster doesn’t disappear when you put a blanket over your head.

I snatch the envelope out of Melissa’s hand and go to set them all down on the table.

Fuck, when is Rooke getting here?

I glance at the class notes again. Bite the inside of my cheek. There’s no way I’m going to lecture these assholes. I scan his notes until I get to one of the last bullet points.

Threaten to read the contents of their envelopes.

Fuck, this guy should be committed.

That’s Milgram-levels of cruelty. Was he getting a hard on picturing how these idiots would start squirming?

I look up at the class.

“Did you guys enjoy the assignment?”

There’s some scattered laughter, a groaned, “No!” paired with a more enthusiastic, “Yes!” on the other side of the room.

The chick who didn’t want to put her name on the envelope calls out, “That assignment was degrading and humiliating, bordering on an attack on human rights.”

“Human rights ?” I laugh. “Yeah, fuck, I’m not touching that.” I lift my hands, getting a round of laughs from the students. “You realize the professor’s gonna rip you a new one, right?”

She crosses her arms over her chest, sulky but determined.

Fucking good for her.

I’m low key surprised that more students didn’t refuse to participate. That last bit with the secret? God, what I wouldn’t take to look inside some of those.

Threaten to read the contents of their envelopes .

“You guys have at least gotten the gist of Zimbardo’s experiment by now, right? How normal people can become sadistic assholes when they’re given some authority. Even when everyone involved knows it’s bullshit?”

Some murmurs, but most of the class is on their phone, or talking with the person next to them.

“Look, I’m in charge until the professor gets here.” I pick up the stack of envelopes and slap it against my palm. “I could start the lecture. But who knows when I’ll have this much power again?”

A few more students perk up at this, some frowning, others smiling like they know what’s coming.

Haven is staring at me like she’s just spent three years building a house of cards, and I’m holding a flamethrower.

“So how about we play a few rounds of Survivor?”

There’s absolute silence as I shuffle the envelopes. I take out three and put them face down on the desk.

“I’ll open an envelope or two, and you guys get to vote which secret is the lamest.”

Students glance at each other like they’re looking for permission to be assholes.

Guess they need a little incentive.

“I’ll keep it anonymous. But if you don’t vote, it’ll be your envelope next, and everyone’s gonna know your name.”

“That stuff’s private!” the girl with the death wish yells.

“The fuck do you care?” I pull out her envelope, waving it around. “You said you didn’t do the assignment, so I’m pretty sure these are blank.”

She scowls at me.

“Right! First envelope.” I tear open Anthony and Linda’s envelope and take out their slips, giving them a quick scan. “Damn, okay.”

I hold up a finger. “Let me see what we’re working with here.”

There’s a collective groan as I open the second envelope and take out those papers .

I laugh, pressing a hand to my chest. “Shit, guys. You took this assignment way too serious.”

No laughter now. In fact, a few students are fidgeting with their hair, their clothes, their books, their pens. Nervous as hell, and with every right to be.

Especially Haven and Melissa.

And wow, plot twist…I somehow randomly chose their envelope too.

My jaw clenches when I read what’s on their slips of paper.

Is it true, though? I mean, nowhere in the assignment did it say the secrets have to be real.

Not as if Rooke was going to fact-check.

This whole thing is about the ethical and psychological hoops his students have to jump through.

The lines they have to cross. Although, fuck, looks like everyone in this class is a motherfucking delinquent.

I have to force myself to look up and flash the class a smile. “Fuck. That’s a doozy. You know what? Round of applause, you ruthless motherfuckers? I see some serious corporate espionage in your futures.”

There’s some scattered applause, but most of the guys just look grateful that I’m not going through with my threat.

Guess that means I’ve done my part. Got everyone sweating in their seats as they question their life choices.

Time to laugh it off, right?

Tell them to read from their books until Rooke arrives.

Maybe give some of the paler students a chance to go splash water on their freaked out faces.

But when I look over at Haven, and she’s got this calculating look in her eyes, like she’s wondering what game I’m playing…?

That switch gets flipped again.

Because who the fuck died and made her Queen of Morality Mountain?

Fucking no one .

I’m in charge now, and I plan to make Zimbardo proud.

I clap my hands together, and half the class jumps like a nuke just went off.

That’s why Rooke does it. It’s so fucking satisfying.

“Right. Let’s start voting.”