Page 10 of Depraved Desires

Monroe raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced by my answer. Frankly, I didn’t give a shit. If I didn’t feel angry about this, then I would feeleverything, and I wasn’t sure I could survive that.

“That room I woke up in,” I began, changing the subject. “Is that yours?”

“No. It’s the guest room. It’s yours for now.”

Blowing out a breath, I nodded. There was no way I could go back to the dorms, not until I regained my strength at least. My life was fucked beyond repair, and I didn’t know how I was supposed to bounce back from this.

“Thanks,” I muttered. I was beyond grateful, but I’ve never been much of an emotional person. Not on the outside at least, so he’d just have to deal with my small, verbal appreciation and take it for what it was.

A knock sounding at the door had my posture going rigid. Who the hell could that be? My gaze drifted over to Monroe in horror as my throat closed up. He didn’t seem to be worried at all. Instead, he just shrugged and started for the door.

“Monroe,” I hissed, keeping my voice low.

He waved me off dismissively. “It’s just Rocky. He said he’d stop by for dinner. The bastard is early though.”

“Why would he be coming for dinner?” I argued. “Don’t you guys hate each other?’

He didn’t bother responding and instead, opened the door, pulling it open just enough for the southern bell to step through. Rocky’s gray eyes immediately met mine, concern flickering through them. As if we were long lost friends, he strode up to me, leaving just enough space between the two of us.

His musky cologne invaded my senses, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. I stood silently as his gaze raked over my body—though, there wasn’t much to see since I was tucked away in a baggy outfit.

“The clothes fit well,” he pointed out. “You feeling okay?” His words came out rushed and excited, like he couldn’t wait to speak them.

“Give her some damn space,” Monroe snapped in his stern teaching voice.

I breathed a laugh and nodded, answering both of Rocky’s questions. This felt weird. It feltnormal. I wasn’t so sure that I was ready for normal yet. There was still so much I needed to sort through. Feelings that were still buried away in the recesses of my mind. Monroe had been right. I would never be okay if I didn’t feel at least something.

“What’s for dinner?” I questioned, my stomach rumbling from the mere thought of food. I just hoped he was a better cook than his wife.

“Loaded nachos if you’re up for it.”

“Um. Is that even a question?” I retorted. Before today, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten, and it definitely hadn’t been a nice, home-cooked meal.

Monroe chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. I also couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard him laugh, or if I’veeverheard him laugh. It was nice. He was always so serious and uptight all the time. It was different being able to see him in his element, and I was ready to see just how he was at home, away from all the pressures of his job.

“I guess I’ll go get started on that. I’ll call for you two when it’s ready.”

“You want any help?” Rocky inquired. I knew he was just asking to be polite. I could tell by his expression that it was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

Monroe shook his head. “Cooking is therapeutic for me,” he explained. “It’ll be done within a half hour.”

When Monroe disappeared into the kitchen, Rocky turned to me once again. It felt like I hadn’t seen him in ages when it had only been about a week. Caroline had filled me in on that part.

“You probably need to sit down,” he said, motioning to the sofa.

Nodding, I walked over to the couch and took a seat. I sunk into the cushions, a sigh of contempt leaving me. Waking up had been the hardest part. My limbs had felt weak, and my throat had been raw. Now that I’ve eaten today and showered, I felt more human.

“How are you feeling? And don’t lie to me this time.” My lips parted in surprise as he stared at me intently, sitting down a foot away from me.

What did he want me to say? That I was disgusted with myself for what happened? That if I thought about it for too long, I wanted to throw up. While those might have been accurate feelings, it wasn’t something I wanted to dwell on. That made it so much worse.

Sighing, I leaned back into the couch and settled for giving him a portion of the truth instead. “Honestly?” I began, allowing my gaze to flicker over to him. “I want them to pay.” If I thought I’d been hellbent on revenge before, it was completely different now.

Rage fueled me. I was like a walking inferno, taking every word they said to me, everythingthey did to me, and channeling it all into hatred. If they thought I’d been a problem before, they haven’t seen anything yet.

CHAPTER FOUR

Monroe

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