Would explain it.
Melissa stands to go to her closet, throwing open the doors and staring inside for a long beat.
“God, I’m drunk,” she mutters, then drags out a pair of pajamas and tosses them onto the foot of her bed.
I slowly swing my legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the sharp ache between my thighs. My skin feels like it’s stretched too tight over my flesh.
“D’y’know, I almost called Man-Child tonight?” She turns back to me, fingers a quarter inch apart. “This close, Haven. This fucking close. Then I remembered he’s in hospital.”
I push myself up, legs wobbling beneath me. The room tilts dangerously. I need to pee, need to change my tampon, need to…get my head straight.
Melissa squints at me. “You okay? You look weird.”
“Fine.” The lie tastes even worse than my mouth. “Just groggy from those fucking horse tranquilizers you gave me.”
She laughs and drops her cropped Chanel jacket to the floor like it doesn’t cost a few thousand dollars.
A glass on my nightstand catches my eye.
My stomach drops through the floor.
There’s a used tampon inside.
Whythe fuckwould I have put that in there?
Because I didn’t.
…I’m going to eat this sweet, bloody pussy…
Bastian’s voice.
His hands pushing my legs apart.
His mouth?—
“Jesus,” I choke out, swallowing back bile as I aim for the door.
“Hurry back!” Melissa calls after me, oblivious to my mental breakdown.
I stumble into the hallway, lock myself in the bathroom, and slide down against the door. My fingers tremble as I pull down my underwear.
Blood. But not just period blood. This is different. Darker in places. And there’s something else—a sticky residue that makes me gag when I realize what it is.
It wasn’t a dream.
Bastian washere.
He fucked me when I was drugged out of my mind.
And I think…I think Ilikedit.
The bathroom walls close in. I can’t breathe. Can’t think. I just need to get out. Away from here. Away from everyone.
I splash cold water on my face, clean myself up quickly. When I return to our room, Melissa’s snoring on her bed, still wearing most of the outfit she came home in.
Moving like a zombie, I pull on leggings, a tank top, my only hoodie.
My gaze sticks on the gaping black hole of Melissa’s partly closed closet. I stare at it like she had, my brain ticking over like it’s trying to tell me something.
