Page 66 of Broken by my Bully (Lessons in Cruelty Dark Academia #1)

Haven

Never.

The word hangs between us like a dare I already regret making. But instead of the reaction I expect—another threat, another promise to break me—Bastian just...exhales.

Long. Slow. Like he’s releasing something toxic from his lungs.

Me. I’m the toxin.

His shoulders drop a fraction. His death grip on the steering wheel loosens. The predator settles back into his skin, satisfied with whatever point he’s proven.

How does he do that? Go from threatening to almost...normal? It’s like someone flipping a switch.

Wish I had one of those.

“You ever get bored with small town life?” he asks casually, like he didn’t just claim ownership of my pussy on the side of the fucking road. Like he didn’t just force me to strip in a boutique dressing room.

I study his profile, trying to figure out his scheme. But his face gives nothing away.

“Why do you want to know?” My voice comes out rougher than intended .

“It’s called making conversation. You should try it sometime. Great way to make friends.” Simple. Matter-of-fact. Condescending as fuck.

Part of me wants to tell him to fuck off. But the part that’s still aching between my legs, that’s exhausted from fighting, is almost grateful for the reprieve. For the chance to pretend, even for a few minutes, that this is just a normal conversation between two people.

Even if we both know it’s not.

Even if we both know he’s just gathering ammunition.

“No. Not really,” I mutter, shifting in my seat. The leather squeaks beneath me, probably still damp from my arousal. “Trailer park. Food stamps. The usual sob story.”

“Not even as a kid? I mean, this place doesn’t even have a movie theater.”

“I played outside a lot.” As in, always.

“So you enjoy nature.” I roll my head against the headrest, catching him nod. “Know any good hiking trails around here?”

“Pfft. I’m not that kind of outdoorsy.”

“Okay, then illuminate me.”

“I had…a friend. We used to play in the woods a lot.”

Shit. Why am I telling him this? I’m just giving him pieces of me and Kai to dissect later.

“When was this?”

Just keep it vague, Haven.

“I was really young.”

“Pick up any hobbies when you got older?”

“Hobbies?” I snort and shake my head, turning to look out the window. The Tesla’s windows are so big it feels like we’re driving around in a goldfish bowl. I can see everything. “Nope. Always just the woods.”

“Even in middle school?”

I glance at Bastian, frowning at his bemused tone. “Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. I just thought you’d have more interests. ”

“Like what? Chess club? Cheerleading? Do I honestly strike you as the kind of person who does any of that kind of bullshit?”

Fuck knows why that makes him smile. “So it was always just you and your friend, in the woods.”

“Until I started working part time.”

“Are you still friends with them? Do they live in town?”

“Why does it matter?” I turn in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest.

This feels like an interrogation, and I don’t like it one bit.

Bastian takes a deep breath and makes a right turn. We’re almost back at the strip mall where I left his Land Rover. “Because I thought you’d have more friends, Haven.”

I blink at him. “I’m not a people person.”

“Because you don’t like people?” He glances at me, his lips curving into a brief, sympathetic smile. “Or because you think they wouldn’t like you?”

I look away. “You seem to like me just fine.”

“You don’t have to be so defensive all the time. This is what friends do. They share things about themselves with?—“

“Oh, we’re sharing ?” I wriggle around in the seat, bracing myself. “Oh good. Then please, Bastian, tell me all about your childhood.”

He’s staring straight ahead, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

“Come on. We’re sharing, aren’t we? Did you have a bazillion friends? Were you in the chess club? Cheerleading squad? Or have you been psychoanalyzing everyone since you were a teenager?”

“That’s enough,” he grinds out through his teeth.

“Oh, so it’s fine for you to pry, but Bastian Rooke’s past is a closed book?”

All the tension leaves his face. He lets out a soft laugh and pulls up the emergency brake so hard that my head bobs forward.

We’re back at the strip mall, right beside the Land Rover.

He’s still for a moment, head bowed, eyes unfocused. Then he turns to me, a polite smile on his mouth that makes the hairs on the nape of my neck stand up .

“We are nowhere near the stage where I feel comfortable telling you about my childhood.” He tilts his head to the side, frowning softly.

“Then stop pestering me about mine. We can talk about…sports, or something.”

But Bastian continues as if I hadn’t said anything. “You’re an only child. Your mother isn’t around anymore, and your father is unemployed. I’m assuming you’ve never had a stable home life. Probably a terrible one.”

Those quiet words feel like razors slicing into my skin. Nothing at all, then a sting that steadily grows sharper and sharper. When he grabs my hand and laces our fingers together, I flinch. When he squeezes, I tremble.

Not from fear.

From want.

From rage.

From how easily he sees through me, like I’m just a piece of glass.

“I can help you, Haven. But not if you keep pushing me away.”

He rubs his thumb over my skin, sending electric tingles through my body.

I want to slap him.

I want to kiss him.

I want to climb onto his lap and see that savage look in his eyes when I unzip him. But the last time someone promised to do me a favor, all they did was hurt me.

Again, and again, and again.

I grab his wrist, yanking my fingers out of his firm grip. My hand shakes as I swipe at the tears that race down my cheeks.

“I don’t need your help,” I spit out, fingers fumbling as I try to release the safety belt.

He reaches over to help me, like I’m a fucking child, and I slap his hand away.

“I don’t need your help!”

Then I’m bolting out of his car, to the Land Rover. Pulling at the handle as I furiously swipe away at the incessant stream of tears. The wind throws my hair against my mouth. I spit it out, shrugging my face against my shoulder.

He comes up behind me. “Haven…”

I hear the keys jangle, and I turn just enough to see them dangling from his hand. I snatch them away from him, fumbling, dropping them.

“Calm down.”

“Shut the fuck up.” I finally get the car unlocked, wrenching the door open so fast I almost hit myself in the face.

Wouldn’t that have been hilarious?

But I can’t close it, because Bastian’s holding the top, and he’s leaning in. “We’re going to talk this out like adults?—”

“No, because I’m a fucking child, remember?”

“I never said that.”

“You did!” I tug at the door. “Leave it! I’m late for my shift!”

He hangs his head and sighs like it’s so fucking hard being an adult with unlimited money and no problems. “You don’t have a shift.”

I bark out a laugh. “Yes, I fucking do. But not for much longer if you don’t. Let. Go!” I keep yanking at the door handle, but it’s like playing tug of war with a pit bull.

Bastian glances away, looking dead fucking serious when he turns back. “You don’t have a shift, Haven, because you don’t work at the diner anymore.”

I stop tugging. “What?”

He licks his lips. Rolls his bottom one between his teeth. Not like he’s stalling, but like he’s savoring. “You should be studying, not serving patty melts.”

“I should…” I shake my head as icy prickles shoot through my fingertips. “What did you do?”

“The sorority provides you with full room and board. If you need anything else, you can just come to me. You don’t have to work anymore.” He delivers every word with a zen-like assurance that makes me want to scream.

Tears warp the world until I blink them free. “Bastian, what did you do?!”

“I called them. Told them you were quitting. They’ll send your last check to the sorority. I gave them the?—“

I lunge out of the car and shove his chest with all my might. He steps back, holding up his hands, taking another deep breath like he’s trying to keep his cool.

“You’re a fucking lunatic!” I ward him off with a pointed finger. “You stay the fuck away from me. Stay the fuck out of my life. Just…fuck off!”

I slam the door and throw the gearshift in reverse, taking off with his Land Rover at a dangerous speed. At the next intersection, I bang my hand against the steering wheel as I fight back a sob.

Then I realize it’s his steering wheel, that I need to take this car back to his house and fetch mine.

I pull over and have a good sob about it, so I don’t cause an accident. And then I drive back to the sorority house, because even though I desperately want to drive to the diner and beg for my job back, I’m in no state to do that right now.

Got to pull myself together first.

Got to figure out how to get out of this invisible trap Bastian’s spun around me like a motherfucking spiderweb. But even as I think it, I know it’s too late.

He’s already in my life.

In my head.

This spider doesn’t need a web. It’s already paralyzed its fly.