Page 74 of Forever We Fall

“Okay.” I agree because I won’t be stewing in my room. I’ll be in the audience at the athletic banquet.

“Good. Now be quick in the bathroom, I have to grab one and get going.”

I nod, go wash up as quickly and efficiently as I can, thankful I didn’t stay and work out. When heading to my room, I call out to Hota, “All yours.”

The shower turns on a minute later. After months of nothing in the southern region, my cock jumps to life again. My door is still open, and I’m tempted to peek inside. I don’t, but not because I feel bad about doing so. I have to figure out what I’m going to wear to this awards banquet.

Today is Friday and we usually bring our clothes to the laundry on Saturdays, which means it’s slim pickings. It doesn’t take me long to decide, but I don’t pull them out yet. I want to surprise him.

It’s the least I can do after literally everything he’s done for me.

A jolt of pleasure rolls through my body, warming my heart. I need to thank Hota. Without him?—

My phone rings.

It has the same effect as a grenade, only I’m still in one piece. At least from the outside. On the inside, my pointy and jagged pieces rattle, cutting through what solace I’d found.

I stare at it as though it might explode. The last time it rang, it shattered the perfect corner I’d managed to carve out for myself.

Hota slithers around the corner. His hair is wet from the shower and droplets of it cling to him like I wish I could.

“I have it.” He holds a towel around his waist with one hand and waves me off with the other. Though I hadn’t moved a bit since it rang. He grabs the receiver and puts it to his ear. “Mr. Judge’s room.”

He nods. “Yes, sir. The banquet. I’m on my way out the door now.” Clearly, he’s not. His gaze lifts to me, a slight grimace tugging at his gorgeous features. “Yes, sir. He is. One moment.”

With a jerk of his head, he coaxes me over. “It’s the headmaster.” His voice is cheery. His face is stalwart.

I peel myself off the chair and walk the two steps it takes to get to Hota on stiff legs. He holds the receiver between us and puts his face on one side of it. I follow suit, trying my best to swallow down the panic.

Why is he calling? Have they found my uncle? Has he somehow survived?

“Hi, Headmaster Bridgeport. What can I do for you?”

The older man clears his throat. “Mr. Judge, we can’t seem to get ahold of your uncle to schedule your end of year pickup.” There’s no question in there. So I wait. “Um, have you spoken to him lately?” He gives a pained sound. “I…I mean, I did a little digging.”

Hota’s gaze meets mine. There’s such calm in his eyes that my rising panic settles.

“Yes, sir?” I prod.

“You know, your family history. I know you just came to be in his care.”

Hota’s teeth grind. I give him a measuring smile. As big of one as I can manage.

“I suspect you two weren’t close.” The headmaster drags out the last word.

“I didn’t know he existed until after the accident.” My legs shift restlessly.

“Goodness. Does he know you speak?”

“Yes, sir.” I can’t hide the pride in my voice or the smile on my face. “He knows.”

Hota offers a reassuring nod.

“Right then. Have you spoken to him lately?”

“No, sir.” Not since I killed him. Though I keep that last part to myself and lie a little. “Not since the Christmas holiday.”

I didn’t speak to him on holiday. I didn’t even scream when he raped me over and over. I didn’t cry when he beat me or told me how worthless I was.

---