Page 67 of Broken by my Bully (Lessons in Cruelty Dark Academia #1)

Haven

I know it’s a mistake the instant I crawl into bed and pull the covers up. I’ve been here for an hour, and I’m too miserable to even go to the bathroom and pee.

How the hell did this day get so fucked?

Was I being punished for enjoying that shopping spree? I’m not religious, but maybe there’s something to this whole Heaven and Hell thing, because this feels biblical.

All I did was let myself relax for one minute. Stop to smell the flowers one time . Then the Almighty slaps me on the knuckles with a ruler…wrapped in barbed wire.

This is what happens when you let two different predators mark their territory on your body in the same week. Kai’s knife wound throbs under the bandaid. I can still feel Bastian’s fingers around my throat.

The worst part? I’m hungry again, but I’m feeling too sorry for myself to raid the fridge.

“You know, I used to do that.”

“Raid the fridge?” I mutter into my pillow .

Melissa scoffs, her bed creaking as she drops into it.

“Please. I’ve been counting calories since I was twelve.

” There’s a thump as she drops a shoe onto the carpet.

Which makes me think of the bunny slipper she dropped while I was under the bed with Kai, which makes me think about Bastian interrogating me about my injuries, which?—

“Ugh!”

Melissa carries on like I didn’t even groan in frustration. “Pre-party napping. If I didn’t have so much shit to do, I’d join you.”

“Not like I’m napping anymore anyway,” I complain, rolling onto my back and rubbing my hands over my face. “And I wasn’t pre-gaming anything. I’m not going.”

Melissa was busy kicking off her other mule, but stops to give me a forceful, wide-eyed glare. “Weird. Almost sounded like you said you’re not going.”

“I’m not.” I stare up at the ceiling, shaking my head. “Had some bad tacos for lunch.”

Then some good shopping, then some weird talking, then some awful fighting.

Why can’t Bastian just be normal? I’m not an expert on the subject, but I really don’t think my professor had any right to quit my job for me. Even though what he says makes sense.

How am I supposed to go to classes, study, and work at the diner? And I guess I don’t really need to if I’m being fed and housed here. But what about, I dunno, clothes? Tampons? Shampoo?

Fine, I still have a box of tampons, and I’ve never had an issue using soap as shampoo…but that’s beside the point.

What about freedom? What about not owing anyone anything?

What about not becoming a kept woman before I’m even a woman ?

“It’ll be out of your system soon.”

I roll onto my side so I can glare at Melissa. “I’m not going.”

She’s on her phone, not even bothering to acknowledge my scowl. “You’ll be fine. Got pills you can take to stop the cramps.”

“Melissa!”

She sighs, puts down her phone. Props herself up on an elbow and stares me down. “You’re not sick. You’re having boy trouble. I knew the moment I walked in.”

“You’re a relationship guru now?”

“See? You’re not denying it.” She falls back and starts texting on her phone again. “Got a dress?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not going!”

“I might have something that’ll fit.”

“Jesus…”

“Then there’s always the toga-dress. We have nice sheets. Do you look good in white?”

Fuck this. If I can’t bury my head under my pillow and try to phase out of this reality until a better one comes along, then I’m going to raid the fridge.

“Are you going to shower? Good idea. It’ll be swarming in there soon.”

Melissa follows me into the kitchen, because I guess it’s her life mission to terrorize me.

I’ve never had this effect on people before. Back at Ashwood High, I was invisible. Just another nameless face in a sea of kids. Now it’s like everyone I come into contact with has a secret agenda to mess with my shit.

“Know what helps with boy problems?” Melissa says, leaning her hip against the counter as she watches me rummage inside the fridge. This thing is stocked. A veritable feast…if you like vegetables and low-fat dairy.

“Junk food?” I mutter, swiveling a yogurt carton around so I can see the label. Fat-free. Yuck.

“No. This.”

I roll my eyes when she doesn’t elaborate, my curiosity forcing me to turn to her. “Is that…a joint?”

“It’s not not a joint.” She flashes me a smile and wriggles her fingers over the joint and stage-whispers, “Boy problems be gone!”

“You’ve discovered the cure,” I tell her, shaking my head. “Can’t believe it, but you’ve fucking discovered the cure.”

“Told ya.” She passes me the last of the joint, but I shake my head and my hand, just in case she missed the head shaking. “We take boys too seriously. This?” She holds out the last of the joint before pinching it in her fingertips and hitting it. “Perspective.”

I hold up a finger. “Clarity.”

She opens her mouth, but then closes again, shrugging. “Yeah. Those.”

We’re at the table under the gazebo in GAZ’s backyard. Sitting on it, because I’m guessing that’s how the cool kids do it. With such heavy, gray clouds above, all the colors are muted, shadows darker.

It’s gloomy, chilly, and I love it.

Why hadn’t I stayed here the whole day instead of going to lunch with Bastian?

Melissa keeps brushing her hair out of her face when the wind blows it, then looking up at the sky like it’s got beef with her.

“So what did Kai do? He cheat on you? Guys do that. You just gotta move on. Or learn to deal with it.” Melissa stretches out her arms, fingers laced, cracking her knuckles. Then she props her elbow on her knee and turns to look at me. “I recommend moving on.”

If only it was that simple.

“It’s not…” But I trail off, because what the hell am I supposed to say?

How can I explain Kai finger-fucked me under a bed and then left his cum in my professor’s car? That the same professor made me strip in a luxury boutique’s dressing room and threatened to make me walk home with his cum leaking out of me if I didn’t do what he said?

That I get wet whenever I think about either of them?

She wouldn’t understand .

Fuck, I don’t even understand.

“If a guy buys you things, that means he wants something in return, right?” I muse.

Melissa doesn’t hesitate. “Always. No exceptions. Guys are assholes.”

I turn to her, my arms dangling over my knees. “Do you even like guys? I haven’t heard you say a single nice thing about them.”

“I like guys.” She gives me a coy smile, then flattens her lips. “But only if they know what a clit is.” She holds up a finger. “And where to find it.”

“And only if they know what to do with it, if they find it,” I say.

We both burst out laughing, and wow, I haven’t laughed like this in a long, long time. Like the time Kai made me laugh so hard milkshake came out of my nose? God, that was almost a decade ago, at the same diner I’m working?—

Used to work at.

“Okay, okay.” It says a lot that, despite the weed, it only takes me a second to sober up enough to talk again.

“What if, what if a guy does something so fucking outrageously fucked up that you want to gouge out his eyes with your bare fucking hands? But then, but then he tells you—” I hold up a finger, so she can have a moment to fully appreciate the fucking audacity “—that he’s helping you? ”

Melissa stares at me with wide eyes. “That he’s the cuntiest cunt that ever cunted, of course.”

We both burst out laughing again. It’s so bad this time that we hold on to each other so we don’t fall off the table.

“Please can I watch?” she wheezes.

I’m wiping away tears. “Watch what?”

She waves at me. “It doesn’t have to be in person. You can record it!” She breaks into gales of laughter.

“What?” I shake her.

“You and Kai hate fucking!” she wheezes, thumping her fist into my upper arm.

“Fuck you.” I slide off the table, my mouth squirming as I try to control my laughter.

“Wait, please, Haven!” Melissa yells, but then starts laughing again.

I give her the finger over my shoulder, and hear her thundering after me in big floppy steps. “Wait, wait! Please. I’m sorry.”

“You okay there?” I ask dryly as she clings to me and tries to walk and breathe and laugh at the same time. “Need an ambulance?”

“Just the video,” she wheezes, her lips rolling into a line as she tries—and fails—not to giggle.

“Fuck off!” I shove her away, but now I’m giggling too, and my arms are too weak.

“Argh!” She drags out a stool from the kitchen counter and snatches me as I pass, forcing me to sit. “I’m gonna make you the best snack ever. It’s so good, you’ll be hitting that record button?—“

“Enough!” I hold up a finger. “I’m warning you.”

She covers her hand with her mouth, turns to the fridge.

“Didn’t figure you for a closet slut,” she says, her head buried inside.

“I’m not any kind of slut.” Weird how she can call me that, and I barely blink. But Kai? Hearing him say that is like a burning knife to the gut every time.

As if thinking about him reminds me, the cut on my side aches. I found a band-aid large enough to cover it in the first-aid kit in the kitchen this morning. The only other time it hurt today was when I was struggling in and out of those pretty dresses at the boutique.

“Please. You paraded that notepad around like a pink flag.”

She takes out some fat-free yogurt. Blegh.

Blueberries. Mmm.

“Notebook?”

She glances at me over her shoulder as she takes out two bowls from the cabinet. “Seriously. You’re gonna deny that, too?”

“Deny what? ”

“Oh my God.” She rolls her eyes and storms out of the kitchen.

“Wow.” I lean over the counter, cracking open the blueberry container and popping a few in my mouth. “Mmm.”

I almost swallow one whole when Melissa reappears a moment later, slamming her e-reader face down on the table in front of me. She points to one of the many stickers covering the back of the device.

It’s a long sticker, just a bunch of random letters, that runs the entire length of the e-reader.

“What?”

“Come on. Say it with me.” She points to the first row of letters. “Shut…?”

STFU

“Shut the fuck up.” I roll my eyes up at her. “And?”

“Take…?”