Page 201 of Broken by my Bully

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

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 flowersone 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,andwork 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 awoman?

“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 tostop 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!”