Out of all of my friends, she’s probably the only one I would have felt comfortable to talk to about my dilemma with Nitkin. She’s the least judgemental of our group and the most open-minded, but she’s not here.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, standing with my tray to return it and grab a dessert, when Professor Nitkin walks in through the entrance, heading straight into my path.
I grind my teeth together and keep my eyes on the floor, having no intention of looking at him after what happened. He must think I’m pathetic, running away like a coward, unable to face the darkness inside of me and what it means. Hastening my steps, I rush toward the station for dirty dishes and put my tray down.
And that’s when I feel a hand grab my elbow hard. “Do you think you can just run away from me?”
I swallow hard and glance at the man I was trying to avoid, swallowing hard when I see the furious expression on his face. Gavril Nitkin is so often expressionless, other than when he has the chance to punish someone. “Let go of my arm,” I say, yanking it from his grasp.
“Answer me, Camilla.”
I glare at him, as he doesn’t have the right to accost me in the cafeteria and talk about something that never should have happened in the first place. “Leave me alone.”
He growls softly. “That’s not what you really want, and you can’t convince me it is.” He leans closer and tightens his grasp on my arm. “Why did you run?”
“It’s not important.” I feel the shame returning as I try desperately to reclaim my arm from his grasp. “Now, let go of me.”
“No, tell me why.” He bares his teeth at me like a rabid animal. “Or I’ll drag you right back down to the basement and whip you until you tell me.”
“I ran because it was wrong what we did,” I say, knowing that’s not the entire truth.
“There was nothing wrong with it.” His eyes narrow. “Why are you running from who you are?”
I search those beautiful, haunted hazel eyes. “Who I am?”
“Yes, a masochist. I’ve known it since you were fifteen, Camilla. You get off on pain and there’s nothing wrong with it.”
I shake my head. “It wasn’t just pain. What we did was sadistic. It was fucked up.”
“And yet you loved every second,” he purrs into my ear.
I can feel my thighs trembling and my pussy getting wet just being close to him. There’s a sickness inside of me for enjoying what we did. A sickness I don’t know how to fix. “There’s something wrong with me.”
“You are perfect, Camilla. There’s something wrong with the world for telling everyone what is right or wrong.”
I shake my head. “You are crazy. Now let go of my arm.”
He snarls like an animal. “You have awakened a beast, Miss Morrone. Don’t think he’ll let you walk away so easily.” His stare is intense as he glares at me for a few beats before turning away and striding further into the cafeteria.
His parting warning sends a shudder right down my spine. Clearly, I underestimated just how crazy Professor Nitkin is. His initials carved into my ass will surely leave a faint scar, branding me with his name for the rest of my life. And the fact it hurts whenever I sit reminds me constantly what we did.
I dispose of my tray and return to the table without my dessert, as I’ve lost my appetite, to find Nat watching me with her brow furrowed. When I sit down, she leans toward me. “What was that all about?”
“What?” I ask.
She sighs. “Professor Nitkin, grabbing your arm over there.”
I swallow hard and shrug. “He was reminding me I have detention with him after school tomorrow,” I lie, as I literally have no other explanation to give her.
“It didn’t look like a reminder.” Her eyes narrow. “It looked rather hostile.”
“Isn’t Professor Nitkin always hostile?” I laugh, although my heart is galloping erratically at being questioned by my friend over that encounter. “What else would it be?”
I regret asking that question the moment it escapes my lips, as I know Nat has suspected I’m being sent to him on purpose, especially after the comment I made after winter break about trying to bag him.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. You just seem to get sent to him a lot ever since you mentioned trying to get into his pants.”
My face feels like someone shoved it into a furnace as I take a long sip of my coke. “I told you, it’s as if the professors have it out for me lately, except for Coach Daniels on that one occasion.”