Page 43 of Broken by my Bully (Lessons in Cruelty Dark Academia #1)

I dismiss the painting until I get close enough to make out the details. I thought it was an abstract, but it’s a high-contrast print of a black-and-white photograph, washed in a pinkish sepia.

It’s a photo of an electric chair, the wall behind it washed in deep shadow. There’s a small signboard near the top right of the wall, nearly indistinguishable.

SILENCE

I’m surprised this wasn’t included in Bastian’s presentation on cruel art the other week. Dante and Virgil have nothing on this cruelty. I look away from the chilling artwork and try the handle on Professor Rooke’s mystery door.

Screw that. I’ve made it this far. A silly photo won’t scare me off.

But the door is locked.

I jiggle the handle a few more times, and then stop, tilting my head at a sound. Rough texture brushes my skin as I carefully press my ear against the door and hold my breath.

There’s a low hum coming from the other side of the door.

Maybe it’s a generator or something. From the solar panels covering the roof, I assume this whole place is off-grid. Guess the electrical stuff has to go somewhere inside the house, and it’s not like this place has a basement.

click

I jerk away from the door.

That sounded like it was right by my ear .

Relax, Haven. It definitely was not the sound of an electric chair warming up.

But trying to reassure myself does nothing to slow my furiously pounding heart as I hurry out of Bastian’s study like the Devil is nipping at my heels.

I shove the ice cream back in the freezer, toss the spoon in the sink, and bundle up my sundress with the notes Professor Rooke left for me to study.

My appetite for sleuthing, rocky road, and this head trip of a house has disappeared.

How bizarre.

A gust of icy wind hits me when I open the front door. I reluctantly turn around to fetch the hoodie I was wearing last night, pulling it over my head before leaving.

Now I just have to find my fucking car.

I’m almost disappointed when I spot the fender of my sedan peeking out between the trees. I’ve been walking for about fifteen minutes, sticking to the road leading away from Bastian’s house so that I don’t get lost in the woods.

It must have stopped drizzling last night, because the ground, while a bit spongy, is pretty much dry again. But thank God for this hoodie, because I think my toes have frostbite. If I’d left that house without this warm top, I might have ended up in the hospital with hypothermia.

The car complains mightily when I start it up, so I let it idle a few minutes before urging it back onto the road.

I try really hard not to dwell on the fact that the last thing I remember before Bastian’s house was climbing over the barrier at Lookout Point.

I try really hard not to think about Kai, either .

I’m so busy keeping other stuff out of my head, Professor Rooke sidles in like he has every right to be there.

The soft, warm fabric of his clothing.

The scent of his body wash on my skin.

“Hush, Haven.”

The way his tongue felt when it slid over my skin ? —

I slam on the brakes, and the car behind me hoots as it swerves around me.

My hands are white-knuckled on the steering wheel, and I’m trembling as I detach one to flick on the hazard lights.

Jesus, Haven. How about we stick to fucking reality for a bit?

I slap my hands on my cheeks like I’m trying to wake myself up.

Again. A little harder. Until they’re stinging.

You can not fuck your professor.

You will not fuck your bully.

Haven Lee is a good girl, and all she’s interested in is creating the best damn life she can for herself.

“Haven Lee is a good girl,” I whisper to myself as I blink back tears.

My hand is still shaking as I switch off the hazard lights and accelerate down the road. But at least all those nasty, dirty thoughts have fled.

I arrive at the diner an hour before my shift starts.

I smear some foundation on my neck and help myself to a half-eaten burger off a plate that’s waiting to be washed.

Then I slip into the tiny, cramped staff room to read Professor Rooke’s notes while I fill the void in my stomach left behind by the rocky road that’s now only a fond memory.

My professor starts off with new material, a fascinating study conducted by psychologist Stanley Milgram where authority figures instructed participants to electrocute test subjects at increasingly dangerous voltages.

The twist was, they didn’t know the test subjects were actors, or that the machine they were using was a dud .

Some admitted they had figured it out. Maybe the acting was a little too theatrical, but most had no idea that they weren’t doing real harm to a stranger…just because someone in a uniform told them to.

Professor Rooke states that the illusion of authority creates as strong a power dynamic between individuals as does actual authority.

But this perception of power can be influenced just as readily with the introduction of knowledge and manipulation, especially in the form of blackmail.

And fuck, that sends a very real shiver down my fucking spine. It’s like Bastian was with me and Kai the whole of yesterday, watching over us like a demented god.

Professor Rooke’s study material ends with a group discussion focused on identifying what circumstances might cause a shift in the power dynamics between people.

Guess I’ll be missing that.

But in a way, I’m glad.

I pored over my grant application at the beginning of the year to make sure it was perfect before I submitted it to AHC. And while it mentioned that there were prerequisite courses for maintaining the grant, I could never have imagined one of them would be a class like this.

But since I’m majoring in social work, I guess I’ll need to know how things like authority and power dynamics work.

Maybe then I won’t be caught off guard again. I had no idea the college would run a background check on me. That Bastian would go to my old apartment.

What worries me even more is that my dad isn’t there anymore.

Question is, was that the end of his snooping? Or did he look up my high school records? Middle school? How far back did he go?

He’d have no reason to track me back all the way to the trailer park where I hung out with Kai…right?

No, what really worries me is that all he found wrong with my application was a supposed fudged residential address.

Unless he did find more.

And he’s planning some blackmail of his own.

I press my fingers against my lips when my mouth curls into a smile.

I’m in no position to be enjoying this, but I can’t help myself.

I’ve always loved playing games.

So when Bastian sends me a message, why wouldn’t I text back?

@rooke.bastian

I have news.

Join me for dinner tonight.

@lee.haven

Can’t. I’m working.

@rooke.bastian

You have a job?

@lee.haven

I’m living out of my car. What do you think?

@rooke.bastian

Get someone to cover your shift.

I should tell him to go fuck himself. And while I’m pondering which emojis will lessen the sting, he sends another text.

@rooke.bastian

This is important, Haven.

Oof, is it getting hot in here? Yes, Daddy .

What the hell’s gotten into me?

Maybe it’s the fact that Bastian is the only person in Agony Hollow who’s treating me like a real person with real feelings, and not a punching bag or a chess piece.

I’m looking at you, Melissa Parker.

My foot taps furiously on the floor as I stare down at my phone, still trying to figure out how to reply. It’s been a quiet night, so I know Teagan will let me go without an issue…but do I want to enter Bastian’s domain again so soon ?

It’s like he knows me already, though. Because fuck am I curious about why he wants to see me so badly.

Maybe he’s going to interrogate me about the missing ice cream. With whips and stuff.

I’d like that.

I’d like that very much.

@lee.haven

K

What should I bring?

@rooke.bastian

Your appetite.