Page 61 of Broken by my Bully (Lessons in Cruelty Dark Academia #1)

Haven

I shouldn’t be nervous. Why am I nervous? It’s just lunch. Lunch at a damn taco stand.

With my professor.

Who I’m crushing on so hard it hurts.

But that’s why I’m doing this.

I thought about it long and hard after our DMs this morning.

Sliding over that line is getting easier and easier. What will happen if one of us does something wholly inappropriate? Something we can’t take back?

We’ll both be stuck with the repercussions of that deed for the rest of my college years at AHC.

Maybe I’m overthinking this. God knows where I get the bandwidth, though. I spent the entire morning trying to get back on schedule with my studies. I’m mostly caught up on Professor Rooke’s course, but I’ve fallen really far behind on my Social Work and Urban Study classes.

Thankfully, both subjects are pretty easy. And I’m finding the research fascinating. Especially the section in my Social Work material about how a person’s surroundings affect their behavior and development.

Then I got to the Social Work assignment. It’s due in a couple of weeks, right before midterms.

Now the knot in my stomach has nothing to do with Professor Rooke.

That assignment included a case study of the Smiths. A make-believe family living in a fictional shantytown in some imaginary state. They’re dealing with issues like poverty, substance abuse, and domestic violence.

It might as well have been a blow-by-blow of my entire childhood.

I huff out a laugh as I pull into a parking spot inside the small strip mall just off Hollow Way. It’s only a short walk from here to the diner, and was one place I used to park my car overnight until I discovered Lookout Point.

I’m early.

And too nervous to wait in the car.

I climb out of the Land Rover, straightening my faded jeans and button-up blouse. It’s kinda old-fashioned, with its pastel pink and green floral fabric, but it’s one of the nicest items of clothing I own.

I’m already heading for the taco stand before I clap a hand over my ass pocket of my jeans.

Shit, my money.

Time to get a wallet. But that will have to wait until after I find the money for a pair of sturdy sandals to replace my disintegrating flip-flops.

I lean into the car, scraping my AHC tote bag toward me over the seat and rummaging around for my money.

Where the hell…?

I upend the tote on the driver’s seat, pawing through everything that falls out. A backpack might be a good idea, too. Something with pockets.

Oh. Right.

Maybe Bastian saw the money and put it in the Land Rover’s console or something. I look around, see a notch in the plastic molding, and shove my hand in there.

“At least your punctuality has improved since you started college,” Bastian says behind me.

I jerk my hand out of the console, but not because he gave me fright.

It’s because I stuck my hand into something wet and sticky and gross. It could be some kind of sixth sense thing, but as soon as I touch it, I know that it’s cum.

And I know it belongs to Kai.

That motherfucking psycho was in my car.

Bastian’s car.

The car Professor Rooke loaned me.

I spin around, shoving my hand into my back pocket and trying to wriggle it around in there to get all the cum off my fingers.

Kai’s cum. On my fingers. While I’m less than a foot away from my professor. My body’s suddenly confused as fuck. Disgusted and turned on and furious all at once.

Why is he standing so close?

Does he want me to smell his cologne, because God, it’s making my knees weak, and that feels intentional.

Kai smelled of weed and raspberry suckers last night.

Him? Bastian?

He smells like he just fucked someone in the back of a Rolls Royce and quickly spritzed some thousand-dollar cologne on his neck to cover up the cum.

“Hi.” I clear my throat. “Uh. Yeah.” Swallow.

God, brain, could you please get on with it? I’m getting embarrassed for the both of us.

Bastian just watches, like it pleases him I’ve forgotten basic English.

“But, uh, you’re, uh, punctual also, so, uh, there’s that.”

What the hell am I even babbling about ?

Professor Rooke lets out a dry chuckle, his hand going into his back pocket too.

Fuck me, he looks good.

Light wash jeans, ripped at both knees. White sneakers. An olive green t-shirt made from such lightweight fabric, it drapes every muscle on his just-athletic-enough frame in just the right way.

And here I am in my granny blouse, my flip-flops one flop away from flipping off.

But Bastian doesn’t seem to care. In fact, he hasn’t even looked at my clothes. He’s been looking into my eyes with the same frank stare he always has around me.

Like he knows exactly what’s on my fingers.

Like he can smell the shame rolling off me.

And he’s cataloging every nervous twitch…for later.

Probably the same way he looks at everyone. I really have to stop thinking I’m different. I’m not. And that’s exactly what I’m here to prove.

All this stuff he’s doing for me feels like way too much. But if I had his kind of money, I’d be generous with it too.

But my time? My attention? Not so much.

I keep forgetting he’s a teacher, though. His job is to care.

“Hope you emptied your savings, Miss Lee, because whatever the hell’s cooking over there smells fucking delicious. I’m ordering some nachos and at least six tacos.”

My laugh sounds forced, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on it. He turns to the taco stand on the other side of the parking lot, beckoning me to follow when I hang back.

“Um…actually…about that…”

He stops walking, frowning at me. “What’s wrong?”

Yes.

I’m fucking broke as fuck.

Which isn’t new for me, but puts me in a sticky— fuck you, Kai —position.

I reluctantly mumble, “I kinda lost all my money. ”

Hadn’t meant to say, ‘all’. Hadn’t meant to sound so defeated. But it wasn’t enough for Kai to jizz all over me last night, he had to do it in my car too?

Bastian’s car.

Like he was marking his territory or something?

…did he fuck you?…

So I’m reeling. Furious. And trying so desperately hard not to show it, all that comes through is the desperation.

“Did it fall out of your purse?” Bastian’s frown is deeper now, his mouth in a line.

Aw, that’s adorable. Him pretending I have a purse when he knows exactly how poor I am.

This is just another game, isn’t it? Everything’s a fucking game with him.

“Must have, yeah. Look, I’m really sorry. If you want to leave?—“

His laugh cuts me off.

“You’re in luck, Miss Lee. I just upped the limit on my credit card, so I’ll pay for all three nachos, seventeen tacos…and whatever you’re having,” he says.

But what I hear is, “ I have unlimited money and you have Kai’s cum on your fingers. Who’s winning? ”

If he hadn’t grabbed my hand and threaded it through his arm, I’d have climbed back into his Land Rover and driven off in a squeal of tire smoke. But he’s smiling, and it somehow takes the sting out of him knowing just how dirt fucking poor I am, and I don’t want him to let me go.

It feels good.

It feels right.

Everything I didn’t feel last night when Kai was crushing me to the floor beneath my bed.

God, why’d I have to think about that?

I walk with my thighs pressed together a little tighter than before, my hips wiggling furiously as I try to compress the urgent ache that’s just started up in my fucking loins .

We walk arm-in-arm until we’re a few yards from the taco stand, then Bastian pulls out of my grip and takes his phone out of his pocket like he’s checking a message.

I didn’t hear a notification come through, but maybe it’s on vibrate.

Milo, the super cute guy at the taco stand, recognizes me as soon as I walk up, giving me a wide smile.

I met him a few month’s ago when Teagan invited me to the strip mall’s fourth of July tailgate party. They do random events like that a few times a year, all sponsored by the liquor store.

It was the first time since I came back to Agony Hollow that I let my hair down…and for one night, it didn’t feel like I had the fucking Devil breathing down the back of my neck.

It was amazing.

It also made me realize just how far down the economical ladder I was. As in, I hadn’t even made it to the first rung yet.

“Back for more, huh?” Milo asks.

God, how I blush.

“If you mean the best tacos in town, then yeah.” I sound stiff, and my smile feels forced and flimsy.

Milo doesn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable I am, or how ambiguous he’s being. “Thought you’d had your fill after last time.”

“What can I say?” I give an uneasy laugh. “Nothing beats free food.”

His face drops for a moment before he recovers. “Of course.”

I don’t know if it was the way he saw me scrounging around in my jeans for change to buy a taco when I was here last time, but he told me someone had sent their order back, untouched, and gave it to me for free.

I’d been embarrassed as hell. I hadn’t expected the food to cost so much, else I wouldn’t have joined Teagan.

But Milo did it so casually, like it was nothing, that even the shame at being broke as fuck faded before I’d taken the food from him.

He joined me and Teagan for a quick chat later that night when the queue outside his taco stand had disappeared, bringing us free drinks. A soda for me, a beer for Teagan. But five minutes in, customers started queuing again, and he had to go back to work.

Milo glances up at the gray clouds building overhead. “Looks like we’re finally getting some rain tonight. Cool things off a bit, yeah?” Before I can answer, Milo’s gaze switches to Bastian. “This your dad?”

“I’m the one with the credit card,” he says.

Milo frowns as if he doesn’t get the joke, and opens his mouth to say something. But as soon as Bastian’s hand lands on my lower back, Milo decides not to speak.

“Three tacos, nachos, and a Corona.” Bastian turns to me, shrugs. “Can’t have nachos without beer.”

I glance at Milo, but he’s staring at Bastian like he wants to punch him.

“Make that two,” I say.

Milo raises an eyebrow at me. He knows I’m underage, but then his eyes go where Bastian’s hand is still grazing the small of my back, and he just shakes his head.

What, Milo?

Just a professor buying his too-young student some alcohol in broad daylight. Nothing to see here.

As he turns away to prepare our order, Bastian turns to me, ducking his head until his lips brush my cheekbone.

“Told you I’m a bad influence,” he chuckles into my ear.

It takes all my willpower not to blush and turn away. I tilt my head back just far enough to make eye contact and wish I hadn’t.

Flecks of gold stud Professor Rooke’s irises, visible even with his dilated pupils.

I think back to the white powder I saw in his bathroom.

Horny, or high…or both?

I lick my lips, and his gaze darts to my mouth.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Hidden from Milo’s view, his thumb brushes the dimple above my tailbone. My pussy clenches at the intimate touch, and that makes me press my thighs even tighter together. Any minute now, someone’s bound to ask me if I need to pee.

He stays where he is, close enough that his breath warms my mouth.

“You have no idea how bad I can be, sweet girl.”

Fuck. I officially have a wet spot on my pants.

“Drinks,” Milo grumps.

I step back in a rush, clearing my throat as I reach up to take the bottle of beer he hands me. He’s not even making eye contact with me, staring off into the distance like he’d rather watch the traffic than me.

Jeez, is it getting cold out here, or is it just me?

“Thank you,” I say, as sweetly as I can.

“Order up in ten,” he says, eyes flicking briefly to Bastian. I might as well be invisible. “You can wait over by the benches if you want. It’s more private.”

My heart gives a hard jump inside my chest.

Bastian scoffs, giving me a cheeky grin. “Don’t you love it when people jump to conclusions?” he says, loud enough that Milo can hear.

My face feels ready to melt off.

But when Bastian holds out his arm, I slip my hand through it, and I follow him to a bench in the shaded area between two food trucks. And we sit side by side like he isn’t my professor and I’m not his student.

Like he isn’t the worst decision ever.

Like he isn’t the bad man he just claimed to be.

But that’s exactly what I want, isn’t it?

Someone to ruin me. Someone who’ll destroy me so utterly, there’ll be no coming back.

Someone even worse than Kai.

A bad man…like Bastian.