Page 69 of Lessons in Cruelty

He rises, sets his cocoa down next to mine, and walks silently to the bookshelf. Plucks out a slim volume, presses it into my chest as he passes on his way to the door.

“It’s a fascinating read,” he says, voice dropping to that professorial purr that makes my mouth dry. “Zimbardo explores how circumstance and authority can reveal the monster hidden beneath someone’s civilization and restraint.”

I can’t breathe. Can’t think.

Because I know he’s not talking about the book anymore.

“Some people need permission to embrace their inner villain. Others…” His eyes flick to the bruise on my jaw. “Others just need someone to show them they were never heroes to begin with.”

He steps back, leaving me clutching the book.

“You’ll especially enjoy the chapter on willing victims.”

Dark clouds have gathered en masse on the horizon, throwing the entire town into an eerie premature twilight as we drive back to town.

The silence in the Tesla is suffocating.

I can smell his expensive cologne, and something darker beneath. My thighs are still pressed together, and I hate that I’m wet. Hate that my body responds to him like this when my mind knows better.

“You don’t have to drive me all the way back,” I say when we pass a bus stop, because I need to get away from him before I do something stupid.

Like climb into his lap and beg him to hurt me.

“I’d rather make sure you arrived safely.”

He could’ve gone and fetched the book. But he made me go with him to his house. It shouldn’t make me feel special. Shouldn’t make me feel wanted.

But it does…and I’m not even mad about it.

He stops right at the entrance of the college.

A few students glance over casually as I step out.

Bastian doesn’t seem to care if anyone sees him dropping me off. That should make me feel better.

“Don’t forget your art assignment,” he says as I turn to close the door. He leans over the console, mouth curving up into a knowing smile. “If you’re stuck for ideas, a picture of that bruise will do just fine.”

…I know who you’re protecting…

Bastian doesn’t know shit.

I slam the car door a little harder than I’d wanted to, and cringe as I walk past his driver’s side door, expecting him to lean out and yell at me.

But he has more self-control in his little finger than I could ever muster.

In fact, I swear I hear him chuckle as he drives away.

I watch his car disappear down the tree lined drive, and wait for regret to slam into me like it always does. But it only comes later that day, when I’m back in my car after a frustratingly boring Urban Studies class.

Professor Rooke invited me into his home, and I spat in his face. Sure, he provoked me, but he was just being kind. When was the last time someone was kind to me?

That’s when the regret hits.

But it’s not aimed at Bastian.

All I see are Kai’s frowning, concerned eyes.

I hear his nineteen-year-old self whisper, “Last chance, Heavenly. There’s no coming back from this.”