“Tea?” I prop myself up on my elbows so I can peer into the mug. “This is coffee.”
“Hilarious, Haven. Now give me the fuckingtea.” She widens her rust-brown eyes. I hate the fact that she looks perfect and pretty without makeup. “I was on a lot of drugs, but I know I didn’t hallucinate our dark daddy whisking you away last night.” She gives me a tight, evil little smile that’s got nothing to do with not wanting to crack her face mask. “You guys fuck?”
“What?” I squeak, pushing the heels of my hands into the mattress so I can get some distance between us. “Melissa, he’s myteacher.”
“And?” She cocks her head like I’m missing the point. “You honestly expect me to believe you had a sleepover, but there wasn’t a pillow fight?”
“I was completely out of it. Drugs, remember?” I whisper the last, in case someone has their ear pressed against the door. “I fell asleep in his car.”
“And then…?”
“And nothing!”
She could out-stare the fucking sun.
“I slept on his couch, okay?”
“Andthen?” Her voice is a low, needy rasp.
“God, he made me a smoothie, if you must know!” I chug down some of the coffee, rolling my eyes when she just keeps watching me expectantly. “What?”
“You’re such a prude,” she says dryly. “I’ll stick with my version of events, thanks.” She sighs, setting her mug down on the floor, then grabs the back of her knees, leaning back and kicking out her feet. “He took you home, ran you a bath, seduced you with chocolates and wine while Mozart played on the stereo?—”
She giggles when I slap her arm. My coffee nearly sloshes over the side of the mug, so I set it down on the nightstand before I can stain the sheets.
“Then he carried you to his bed and whispered dirty, filthy things in your ear while he?—”
I hit her upside the head with the pillow, and thankfullythatshuts her up. She pats her face with her fingertips to make sure I haven’t messed up her mask.
You could fry an egg on my cheeks.
“Are you blushing—” She gets another bop with the pillow for that. “Okay, okay! I’ll let you get your beauty sleep.”
She stands, straightening her pajamas, double-checking her headband is still in place. “You must beexhaustedafter all that anal—” She cuts off with a crow of delight when I toss my pillow at her, and then hurries to the doorway, out of reach of further duck-down missiles.
“Your phone’s charging in the kitchen,” she calls from the hallway. “It was off when I took it out of your purse last night, and I have no idea if it’s ever coming back from the dead.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, although a part of me feels snippy about her going through my things. I guess she was just looking out for me, but still.
I slip onto my back again. It’s not as comfortable as it was before, sans pillow. I roll my head, staring at the carpet where my pillow lies.
“We’re doing nails and stuff in the den if you want to come down,” she says, peeking into the doorway. “I’m sure you’ll want to look pretty tonight in case dark daddy shows up.”
“Tonight?” I stare longingly at my pillow, willing it back to my bed with the power of my mind, but it just lies there, enticingly fluffy, frustratingly out of reach.
“Mixer at the G’s house later.”
“Fuck, no,” I groan. “I’m still recovering from last night.” I reach for the pillow, but I’d have to get out of bed to grab it. I make grabby hands for it, and Melissa walks closer and picks it up, holding it by one corner and swaying it from side to side, just out of reach.
“Say you’ll come.”
I gape at her. “You’re holdingmy pillowransom? You monster.”
“Come on. A party will take your mind off…things.” Her eyes lock onto my throat. I clap a hand over the marks. Not all of them were from that collar. The bruises Kai’s fingers left are only now fading to yellow. There are so many more marks under my clothes.
Kai’s…and Bastian’s.
Layers of cruelty, new over old.
