Page 12 of Look how well You take this C*ck

I’m trying to protect her from the vapid bitch I wish were on another continent right now. I can see her mind working and trying to decide how to proceed, learning there’s another female in Damon’s life and not liking it one bit.

“Ellie.” Kyla says the name I adore with enough censure that I must bite my tongue so I don’t say something that will have her attacking the young woman. “Is this your girlfriend now?” Her question is for Damon, but her eyes latch onto the slight chafing on Ellie’s jaw from my beard. Thankfully, Damon has been working on growing out his facial hair, and she shouldn’t be able to tell who left the redness.

“Yeah, Mom.” My jaw clenches this time, and I have a hard time keeping my jealousy at bay, hearing another man claiming her. Christ, this is a fucking mess.

“I should go,” Ellie whispers, not oblivious to the tension built before she entered the room. She’s likely hurt over how I haven’t staked my claim, given all we did last night and the promises I made to her.

Damon looks at me quickly, and I give a slight nod. “I’ll take you,” he says, smiling at his friend and leading her away before Kyla can do or say anything else.

“Bye, Ellie.” Kyla wiggles her fingers at my woman, and I want to break them.

My violent thoughts towards a female are shocking, but it’s Kyla’s attitude that is the trigger. I know if she gets even a whiff of my feelings for the younger woman, she’ll pounce like a predator and hurt Ellie in the process. I’ll do anything to save her from that.

CHAPTER 8

Ellie

Pushing back the emotional hurt alongside the physical is harder than I imagined. Damon spent the ride home explaining why his dad behaved how he did around his mom, and while I appreciate the effort to shield me from more trauma, I can handle myself.

Ever since my dad’s arrest, everyone has treated me like glass, assuming I’m breakable and I’m not. I’m fragile, sure, because the man who spent years tormenting me broke down my trust and set me up for victimhood repeatedly. But I’m strong. I know I am. I survived my mom dying, the foster system and terrible caregivers, the bullying at school…my own self-doubt and demons. But I do it every day. I fight, and I never give up.

I’ve never wanted to.

Until today.

Lars’ rejection was brutal. It was like a scalpel strategically slicing through every major artery and letting me slowly bleed dry. I hate it.

“Ellie, darling, how was your weekend?” Clara asks as I enter the house, my bag over my shoulder. Her greeting is welcoming and genuine, which is the only reason I plaster a fake smile on my face.

“Good, we watched movies, had pizza, and stayed up too late.” I hope she accepts my false narrative.

“I’m so glad. I was thinking you might want to help me do a little meal prep for the week. How about baked bacon and cheese ziti, breakfast burritos, banana loaf, and trying a new sourdough bread recipe? I can never manage the darn sourdough.”

She’s so hopeful. I can see how much she loves having me here and the girl bonding that Carly refuses to do with her.

“I’d love to. Could I hop in the shower real quick first?” I don’t really want to. I’d like to go to bed and cry for the next five days, but I know that won’t do me any good, so I opt for the healthier option.

“Great! I’ll make you some lunch. Turkey clubhouse sandwich sound good? I just bought fresh oranges, too. I’ll cut some up.” She walks away, chattering about what she’ll do before I can give an answer.

My mom was the same way, always inviting me to do things with her, talking out loud to make her lists. Never allowing me to feel anything less than loved. Spending so much time with Clara makes me miss her and appreciate our time together even more.

Exhaling slowly, I start my way up the stairs, heading for my room to grab a change of clothes and a fresh towel. I was told I could do anything I want to the room, make it my own, but I don’t want to touch it. What’s the point? I won’t be here past graduation. I’ve already been accepted to Briarwood College with an excellent scholarship that includes housing on campus. I’ll make that my home.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Carly sneers from her bedroom door. I ignore her and enter the bathroom as she carries on. “Done spreading your legs for the basketball star.”

She’s had her sights set on any player who will give her the time of day. I think Damon is one of the few who haven’t, and she’s irritated knowing we’re friends.

“Nice to see you, Carly.” Keeping things civil is the only way I know how to survive against such hate, and it pisses her off for some reason.

Growling, she stomps a foot and slams her door behind her as she leaves me in peace.

I spend a few minutes under the hot spray, relaxing my overworked muscles and fighting to forget why they’re so sore before I start shampooing my hair. Finding the marks Lars left all over my body wells up tears, but I force them back. I refuse to cry right now, choosing instead to wait until I can, at night when everyone is fast asleep and won’t question me about it.

I knew a relationship between us was wrong from the start. Lars would never want a girl like me. A police captain and the daughter of a serial killer don’t make a great love story.

Allowing myself a few minutes to wallow before shutting off the water, I step out and dry myself before getting dressed and braiding my hair. I don’t feel like doing much more than that. After cleaning up the bathroom and putting things away, I return to Clara in the kitchen, pulling everything out that we’re going to need.

“Eat while I finish making a plan.”

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