Page 68 of Broken by my Bully (Lessons in Cruelty Dark Academia #1)

I stare down at the letters. “Take?”

She points at the next letter. “That.”

“That.”

“Come on, Haven, you know this.” She taps on the D.

“Down? Dog?” Because apparently I’m fluent in yoga.

“Dick!” she yells, tapping harder. “Dick!”

“Dick?”

“Oh my God.” She runs her hand along the sticker, rambling off the acronym like a word champion speed reader. “Shut the fuck up and take that dick like a good girl!”

She slaps the countertop. “Like a good girl, Haven! Like a good girl!”

I can’t breathe. I’m laughing so hard that blueberries almost come out of my nose.

“That’s what it says?” I’m surprised Melissa can even understand me, because I can hardly force the words past my constricting lungs .

“You didn’t know?” she wheezes.

“I didn’t know,” I wheeze back, shaking my head as tears stream out of my eyes.

Melissa slaps the countertop, then she’s holding on as her body slides to the floor, legs incapacitated by laughter. “Oh my fucking God…”

If the doorbell hadn’t rung right then, I think we’d both have passed out from oxygen deprivation. Since I’m not the one sprawled on the floor like a dead person, I go answer the door.

I didn’t even stop to think who might be on the other side. It could have been Bastian, trying to apologize by making things worse somehow.

Or Kai. With another knife.

Thank God it’s neither.

“Delivery for Miss Lee?” the courier says, giving my tear-stained face a concerned look. “You okay, ma’am?”

“Yessir.” I haul a breath through my lungs, dragging my finger over the touchscreen of his delivery machine thing and taking the parcel from him. “Too much weed.”

I slam the door in his face, leaning my back against it as I savor the feeling of air in my lungs.

God, my stomach hurts.

“Who was it?” Melissa comes out of the kitchen, using the heels of both hands to wipe her face. “Oh my God, was that Amazon?”

“No, I think it’s for me.”

“What did you get?” She brightens up so much, you’d swear this was her delivery.

“I’m not sure…” But as I say it, my brain finally catches up. “Oh fuck.”

“What? What?” She plucks the parcel out of my hands and holds it over her head as she charges back into the kitchen. “I’m opening it!”

“Melissa!” I run after her. “Hey, that’s mine!”

“Oh come on! It’s been days since I got a delivery. I need a hit, man.” She’s got my parcel under her arm, trying to open a drawer without dropping it.

“Well it’s been years for me, so give!” I come up behind her and grab it, tearing it out from under her arm.

She spins around, eyes wide. “Years?”

“I’m exaggerating for dramatic effect,” I lie, turning my back on her. Then I turn back and hold out my hand. “Knife?”

“Ew, no. You’ll cut yourself and get blood everywhere.” She hands me a cute pink box cutter. Because, of course, everyone just has one of those in their kitchen drawer.

Mine had crack and drug pipes.

Melissa goes back to fixing our snack, adding bananas and monk fruit sweetener to the mix, and I struggle to open the package without cutting myself. I’m kinda grateful she didn’t give me the knife.

There are two boxes inside the larger one. As soon as I see the shoebox shape of one of them, my suspicions are confirmed.

Melissa comes around the counter and slides a bowl over to me, picking up the delivery note.

“Ooh, all the way from Ashwood Crossing,” she says. “What did you get from…” She slaps the paper down on the counter. “Laramie? You fucking kidding me?”

She doesn’t know our professor bought it. That he watched me strip down to my stained underwear before trying it on. That I’m about to walk into that gala wearing his money, his choice, his claim on my body.

I quickly close the box flaps. “It’s a mix-up. It shouldn’t have?—“

“I swear to God, open that box or I’m fetching a knife.” There’s a feral look in her red-rimmed eyes that I don’t have the moxie to challenge right now.

“I’m still not goin?—“

“Shut the fuck up and take that dress out of there like a good girl.”

The words hit different now.

After what Bastian said.

After what Kai did.

Like the universe is conspiring to turn me into exactly what they want me to be.

Their good girl.

I set the shoebox on the counter. Melissa doesn’t seem interested in it at all. Her eyes are glued to the large, flat parcel.

She claps her hands over her mouth when she sees the label.

“Fuck me, it’s an Elie Saab.” She gives me a frantic look, nodding her head and whimpering. “Can’t believe Kai’s got such good taste!”

“Kai’s got fuck all to do with this,” I mutter as I take out the box and pull off the ribbon.

Melissa snaps her fingers at me. “Faster, woman, faster!”

“God, would you please calm down? It’s just a fucking?—“

Dogs in Riverside hear Melissa squeal when I lift a length of gorgeous blue fabric out of the tissue paper. I frown at the dress. Stunning as it is, it’s not the one I tried on.

Oh. Right.

That one had a huge wet stain on it the last I saw. Probably needs a day or two to get dry-cleaned.

Melissa grabs my shoulders and shakes me like I’m a vending machine that didn’t spit out her soda.

“Don’t just stand there! Move! We’ve still gotta do hair and makeup. Do you need to shower? Of course you need to shower. How else are you gonna fucking shave? Jesus, I need to shave.”

She snaps closed the lid, and shoves my bowl into my chest, pointing to her mouth. “Food in hole. Now. You’re gonna need the calories.”

I move mechanically, thoughts moving through my mind like sludge.

This dress probably costs a year of rent in my uncle’s shitty apartment. More than a year of groceries. More than my dad’s piece of junk car is worth.

Bastian didn’t just buy this dress. He bought everything .

I’ll be wearing a small fortune tonight. Everyone will know I didn’t buy it.

That I’m just a good girl who takes what she’s given.

A good girl who does what she’s told.

A good girl who’s about to walk into a gala with two wolves while she’s dressed like a lamb.