Page 206 of Forbidden Lessons

“Get me out.” I grab his bow tie. “Out!” My fumbling hand finds the dog collar around my neck. “Off!”

“Breathe for me, sweet girl. Breathe.”

Melissa appears beside Bastian, her eyes dark, her jaw clamped closed. She wipes hair out of my face, bites her lip.

There’s a tug around my throat, an uncomfortable burn as Bastian drags the collar around.

His eyes narrow. “Where’s the key, Melissa?”

“I don’t know.” She glances around frantically. “He must have it.”

“Off.” I tug at the collar, whimpering. “Please, off.”

Then I’m bundled against Bastian’s chest, and the world is bobbing up and down, and he’s so warm that I curl against him, put my cheek on his heart and listen to it beat.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Chapter 60

Bastian

Thank fuck I’m sober, that I was waiting to get to the Rain Dance before snorting a line. This is a delicate situation, and being high right now would have left me at a significant disadvantage.

he must have it

I can think of only one person who would padlock a collar around Haven’s throat—the person she bit like a rabid dog.

But I’m not seeking him out. Not now. I might be sober, but I’m angry as all hell.

I go around the side of the country club’s main building, trying to avoid any inquisitive eyes. Haven needs to be somewhere safe. Somewhere warm. She’s shivering against me, and God only knows how long she’s been out in the rain wearing nothing but a?—

Fucking trash bag.

And here I was telling Kai to make sure no one ODd this year. Forgot about the rain. The cold.

I’m shivering, and I’m not half as soaked as Haven.

I shouldn’t be surprised Haven was at the Rain Dance—placing her in the GAZ sorority exposed her to Greek party culture, and Haven seems eager to make the most out of her college experience.

Warning her probably wouldn’t even have helped.

My Tesla unlocks when I walk up to it, making it easier to slide Haven in the passenger seat. I grimace as her wet body leaves streaks of body paint over the red leather interior, but warming her up is more important right now.

“Seatbelt,” I tell her, but she just starts looking around my car like she climbed into an alien spacecraft. I wrestle the seatbelt over her, clipping it in and yanking it to make sure it’s secure.

This close, with the Tesla’s interior light beaming on her, Haven’s a bigger mess than I thought. Hair plastered over her skull, paint running down her face, her throat, her entire body.

And Christ, her lip…

She flinches when I touch it with my thumb, but lets me gently draw it away from her teeth without protest.

“What did you do?” I whisper, opening the glove compartment and taking out a stick of gum for her. It’s ancient, from when I was still smoking cigarettes, but it’ll have to do.

I unwrap it and slip it into her mouth. She makes a face and tries to spit it out, but I push it back in again.

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