Page 40 of Broken by my Bully

It’s because I keep picturing us when we were kids. That cute, cheeky little girl who’d go trundling through the woods with me on a merry adventure, not this grown-ass, fucked-up fraud in front ofme. I’m going at this half-throttle when it should be pedal to the metal.

Haven grabs the brim of her AHC cap and starts to pull it off, then quickly looks around like she first wants to make sure she’s alone.

But she’s not. And when she spots me leaning against the stack just a few feet away, she scrambles to the center of the bench, right by the window, like that’s her escape route.

Guess she realizes I’m too close. If she tried to run, I’d snag her like a rabbit in a snare.

Her legs are up, knees by her chest. She’s gripping the bench beneath her like she needs the support.

Those blue eyes are wide, fearful, but determined.

“I’ll scream,” she says bluntly.

I thought about a lot of things last night when I was slamming back shots of whiskey and working my way through a six-pack of beer. Like what if she came back? I laughed it off, had another shot, and then remembered the feeling I had when I saw her yesterday, after warning her off the first time.

That initial shock, then the anger, then the cold, boiling hatred.

As much as it hurt, I forced myself to dig into the past, sifting through the sun-soaked, shade-dappled memories of our childhood together.

We’d known each other for years before I moved out of that trailer park in Riverside. We played our games, and we grew to know each other through the glimpses of pain and frustration we’d let each other see.

I understood Haven. And she understood me.

We gave each other what we wanted until what we wanted became too big of an ask.

I walk closer, and she opens her mouth, but there must be something on my face she doesn’t like because she remains silent, watching and waiting even as I lean forward and rest my palms on the table.

“You like this, don’t you?” I murmur. “That’s why you keep coming back for more.”

A crease appears between her dark eyebrows, her lips slowly sealing.

I slide my hands over the polished wood as I take a seat on the edge of the bench. She leans away, but her ass stays right where it is as she watches me uneasily.

“I’m the only Hillsider who’ll dare sit this close to you, know that?”

Haven’s eyelashes flutter, then a touch of color bleeds into her cheeks. “You fucking arrogant pri?—”

I make a grab for her, and it must take her by surprise, because she barely moves before I’ve got my hand latched onto the back of her neck. She gasps, her eyes squeezing shut at my touch only to fly open a second later so she can glare at me.

She hunches her shoulders, drawing her legs even closer to her body.

“That’s why you don’t want to leave, isn’t it?” I purr, using my other hand to brush a strand of hair out of her face. “Poor little trailer trash Haven. You must have thought you hit the fucking jackpot when they gave you that grant.”

Pride floods her eyes, making them sparkle. “I got that grant on merit, not because of pity.”

My laugh makes her cheeks grow even redder. “Please, Heavenly. They took one look at your sorry ass and saw the perfect poster child. The tragedy of such a pretty girl trapped in the slums of Riverside. Every time she tries to crawl her way out, she just keeps falling back in the shit. Or on another dick.”

Her slap catchesmeoff guard.

Then she’s dragging my fingers off her neck and scrambling to get out of the bench. I grab her arm she tears it free. But she’s caught when I snag the back of her shirt and twist the fabric, dragging it tight against her body.

She twists and starts slapping at my hand, but I pull at her shirt,dragging the two of us together over the leather bench. Her body goes stiff when our thighs crash into each other.

I recognize the sudden shift from angry to terrified. As soon as she opens her mouth, I know she’s going to scream. But my hand muffles the sound, just as I resist her struggles with an arm slung around her waist.

We’re facing each other like lovers, and if it weren’t for the hand on her mouth, it might have looked to any bystanders that we were about to kiss.

But a quick scan confirms that the nearby stacks are still empty. We’re deep in encyclopedia territory, so the chances of someone passing by are slim to none.