23
I’m thankful I hadn’t let him in. I hadn’t made an effort to keep him out as such, but out of all the personalities in the house, his is the quietest. He blends in or storms off when there is an issue instead of fighting to get his voice heard. The others are far more confrontational.
Still, I expected more, which is stupid. It’s not that I thought everyone would be honest with me. We are all lying about something, me included. But somehow, Luke’s actions here seem more malicious than anything I’ve been faced with so far.
Cain downstairs with the girl draped over him might have bugged me. And yeah, maybe there was a touch of hurt involved, but he never claimed to be anything but an asshole. He isn’t nice to my face while spreading rumors behind my back. He’s always a dick, but in a twisted way, it’s part of his charm. It’s an invitation to love him at his worst. There will be no big surprises this way. No duplicity.
You hear stories about men who become monsters on their wedding night when the mask comes off. Cain doesn’t wear a mask. He lets his monster roam free with a fuck-what-they-think attitude that, in a school filled with vipers, is oddly comforting. I’d rather see the knife coming for my heart than get one in my back. You can’t protect against that.
“Such a little slut. You like that, huh?” Luke growls in a tone I’ve never heard from him before.
I bite my lip, remembering the way he looked at me with disdain when he brought up my budding relationship with Dmitri.
What a fucking asshole.
The springs on the bed jolt as Cassandra is tossed on top of it before I feel Luke’s weight join hers.
“Yes,” she gasps.
“You’ll let me do anything to you, won’t you? You’re my personal little whore,” he whispers as the bed starts moving in a rhythmic squeak, squeak, squeak. The springs protest as the frame thumps against the wall.
I roll my eyes at the breathy pornstar moans, knowing Lollie would be appalled at how fake she sounds.
A groan and a strangled gasp have me closing my eyes, trying to shut them out. The ick feeling welling inside me is not something I usually feel around people having sex. I have a bit of voyeur inside me. Scenes like this would usually turn me on, but there is nothing sexy about it. It feels cold, forced, and almost like a requirement that needs filling rather than something two people do in the throes of passion.
More gasping, only this sounds different. There is less arousal here and more fear in the sound.
“Yeah, you love it when I wrap my hands around the pretty little neck of yours, don’t you? I can feel your pussy squeezing my cock every time I tighten my grip.”
I tense, ready to intervene if needed. I’m loath to bust up their sex games, but I won’t lie here and do nothing if he attempts to kill her.
“Come, my little slut. Come all over Daddy’s dick.”
Oh, gag. Nothing against the whole Daddy fetish. I know couples that play that way, and it’s sexy as hell. But lying here in a dorm room listening to my fucking guidance counselor nut inside his student, I’m feeling less turned on and more skeeved out than I usually would.
A whine, followed by a deep sucking breath, has me relaxing. Luke curses and groans as the bed bounces faster and faster before it stops, and Luke bellows.
I’m tempted to check my watch. That couldn’t have been longer than three minutes. No wonder he fucks young girls. They don’t know that they can do better.
A slap has me tensing again, but when Cassandra moans, I remind myself to chill the fuck out. This is obviously consensual. How I feel about the whole thing doesn’t matter.
Please, God, let them skip the pillow talk and leave now before I throw up. I need vodka and some ear bleach—if that’s a thing.
“I should get back to the party,” Cassandra says quietly, breaking the silence.
“In a minute. I need to talk to you first. Have you heard talk about what’s going on with Dina?”
“I haven’t heard anything since the day she disappeared.”
“Left. She didn’t disappear. She left, remember, to go travel the country with her deadbeat boyfriend.”
She pauses for a minute before continuing.
“Right. Before she left,” she agrees.
“Have you heard anything else? Nobody has mentioned the photos or pins?”
“No, nothing. I told you, there has been a rise in thefts lately. Everyone in the building has had something taken. Nothing of particular value, though. I think someone is just taking stuff and tossing it to piss us off.”
“Seems petty to me.”
“We’re teenagers. Petty is what we do. Look, I’ll be more careful from now on, I promise. Just…I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore.”
“Aw, pet, are you worried I’ll throw you away? Don’t be silly. You’re my girl.”
“I love you, Luke.”
“I know. Keep your ear to the ground and pay attention. For now, the story seems to be holding, but we’ll have to hold off for a little while before we make another move. I agree. Whoever took those photos has likely tossed them, unaware of what they are. However, if they start putting two and two together, it will be your pretty little head they come searching for, not mine.”
She grunts and I hear her moving as if she is trying to pull away from him.
“Now, don’t be like that, pet. We all have our roles to play. It’s not my fault you fucked up. Learn from your mistakes and don’t do it again because next time…I won’t be so lenient.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be careful. I promise.”
“Good girl. Now, tell me where you’ve put the pills.”
“In a place, nobody will look for them.”
“You don’t trust me enough to tell me where?”
“You don’t tell me all your secrets either, Luke. Why should I tell you mine? Oh, you make your promises about us leaving and having a life together, but the longer it takes, the more I wonder how much is the truth and how much I just want it to be.”
The sounds of kissing have me frowning. I’d expected him to lash out at that comment, but then again, maybe not. Sometimes the best way to kill someone, after all, is with kindness.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I love you. This is hard for me. I want to be far away from here. Just you and me. And when I wake up with you in my arms for the first time, I’ll know it’s because you were strong enough to hold on. We are so close, Cass, so fucking close. Just hold on a little longer for me. Okay?”
“Okay,” she whispers, the anger missing from her voice, which is now filled with hope.
Only foolish girls listen to storytellers and forget the words they utter are nothing more than fiction. Pretty words meant to titillate and amuse are all well and good until the joke’s on you.
They climb off the bed, the rustling of fabric leading me to assume they are both getting dressed.
“Good girl. Now go back down to the party and get yourself noticed. Go flirt with all the little boys, knowing your man’s cum is still inside you. I’ll wait five minutes and sneak out the back.”
“Okay, Luke. Love you,” she whispers again, this time with a hint of desperation in her tone.