Page 36 of Break Me

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CHAPTER14

CHLOE

Ilike this coffee shop.

It's on the other side of town from my usual haunts, so no one will recognize me. It's upscale, but I can afford to splurge a little because it's a special occasion. I’m on the home stretch. This is almost over. So why don’t I feel happy about that?

Every inch of my body aches from my rough encounter with Sam last night. At the thought of what we did, my heart pounds and I can’t forget how he made me feel, how my body responded to his touch, his power, his forcefulness…

He used me in every sense of the word, right down to pretending I didn’t exist afterward. I’d dressed and tiptoed out after him when he left, only to discover him gazing in at his daughter with the saddest, most loving look I’d ever seen. I could only wish I had a father to look at me the way he looked at Kelsie.

After that, I left feeling conflicted. I mean, he’s a bad guy. I know that. He deserves what I’m doing to him, right? So why am I starting to feel bad for him? He’s losing everything and I’m the one who’s going to make sure it’s all stolen away from him.

I take a deep breath and wrap my hands around my drink, inhaling the delicious steam into my lungs like a nicotine addict inhaling smoke from a cigarette. All this time I’ve been operating under the idea that this whole situation is about revenge and survival and that Mr. Reed deserves every awful thing about to befall him. After all, I am just a student of his, a student he thinks he’s preying on. And if not me, he’d have found some other young girl to take advantage of to fulfil his schoolgirl fantasy, right?

I’m suddenly not sure.

There’s real guilt in his eyes, and real fear when I confront him. I have to wonder if I really am the first student he’s fooled around with, and if his words are true; that he’s only fucking me because I’m forcing him. With a heavy heart, I continue thinking on my part in this whole fucked-up situation while reminding myself that I have to put myself first…even if I’m not quite sure what that really means anymore.

I'm still lost in thought, nursing my latte, when the door opens behind me. I don't move, I don't react, as clicking heels approach, and someone slides into the other side of the booth, settling with a sigh. I give Marissa a small smile of greeting. Her lips purse, her beady eyes falling to my neck, and I touch it self-consciously. Clearing my throat, I sweep my hair forward to hide the faint bruises in the shape of fingerprints on my neck. I liked it when Sam did that to me, but I can't deny the aftermath is a little sobering. Jake had almost lost his mind when he saw the marks.

“You should start wearing scarves,” she says blithely.

I bite my lower lip, a rare flash of guilt rising inside me. I wasn't expecting this to be so hard. The fact that Sam is so willing to help me out made it easy to convince myself that he was just like everyone else. Selfish, controlling, only out for himself. But that was before I started getting to know him, as more than an unhappily married man I was being paid to seduce.

Seeing him last night, with Kelsie, and how he isstilltrying to save me, after everything I’m doing to him…it's putting doubts in my mind. I was up late last night, aching and with my mind racing, when I realized something. I don't have to go through with Marissa's plan. I don't have to stick around and cry rape, like she's paying me to do. Once she hands the money over, I can just take Jake and run. I'd still be sticking to my side of the plan, without ruining Sam's life and career.

“Do we have progress, at least?” Marissa presses, when I don't say anything.

“We have more than that. I did what you asked me to do and slept with him, which means we’re done here.” I clear my throat again, hoping I sound much more in control than I feel. “Do you have my money?”

She arches a brow and pulls an envelope from her coat, setting it on the table. Her hand remains on top of it. My eyes drop to it, my heart racing. Twenty grand makes all the difference in the world to someone like me. I might even be able to afford to go to university after high school. Money like this will set Jake and me up for life. Marissa smiles coldly and when I realize she's not removing her hand from my money, I look up at her, confused.

“I trust you recorded it?”

“Recorded it?” I blink at her. There was no mention of me recording anything in our earlier discussions.

“Slight change of plans, then,” she says mildly. “You’re not quite done, after all. I want you pregnant, with his kid.”

My eyes widen. “What?” I demand. “That wasn't part of the deal.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she agrees, “but without proof, what use are you to me? I was thinking about it, and the final nail in the coffin would be you getting pregnant. Don't worry about the cost. I'll be more than happy to provide you extra for thetrouble.” Her lips purse sourly again. “I just need this to be foolproof, Chloe. Sam can still argue against you if there's no proof, but there's no arguing a positive pregnancy test and a paternity test saying he's the father of his student’s child.”

I can only stare at her, speechless. She seriously can’t expect me to do this to him, can she? It would not only ruin his life, it could send him to jail in the process. I swallow the lump in my throat as bile rises up through my stomach. What have I gotten myself into?

“I won't be paying until you have a positive pregnancy test with his paternity results,” she finishes, pulling the envelope away with a smile. “I'm sure you understand.”

“You can't be serious,” I mutter, struggling to process her words.

“I just need the first trimester,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “After you get to that, I don't care what you do with it.”

Is she…? Is she suggesting I abort the child afterwards?

Revulsion coils up in my stomach, powerful and nauseating. I stare at her in shock. This woman is crazy—even crazier than I am. There's no way Sam deserves this, but what can I do? I'm backed into a corner, and there's not much I can do. I need that money. Marissa is doubling down, calling my bluff. I should have seen it coming, but I didn't.

And now I’m fucked.

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Tags: Ivy Arnold Erotic