Page 15 of Mad As Hell

If I was going back to school, I needed to look the part of the Cabot heiress. And apparently that extended to my pussy. Shaving was for peasants.

The roads we’d traveled had been dark and unfamiliar, and by the time we arrived at Pacific City, I realized we were driving into the town limits from a completely different direction than I was used to.

“Your father asked me to remind you to be a good girl,” Adam said softly, his words a teasing purr that made my stomach twist. He reached out a hand and toyed with the ends of my ash-blonde hair. “Personally, I’m hoping you’re naughty. With him out of town, I’ll be the one who has to bring you to heel.”

“I thought your orders were to look, not touch,” I snapped, jerking my head away and glaring at him as my hand settled on the handle.

He glared at me but brought his hand back to his side.

I shoved the door open and got out before glancing back inside the dimly lit interior of the car. “Good dog.”

I slammed the door on his ruddy face and turned toward my dorm. I gave myself only a moment to look up at the mostly dark building before following the lighted path to the front door.

I withdrew the keys from my purse and used the fob to open the door, which auto-locked at ten p.m. to protect students.

Snorting, I pushed through the doors and went to the elevators. I rode in silence, ascending to the top floor, where the doors opened quietly. My room was at the end of the hall to the right, and I made my way to it as quietly as possible.

I opened the door and quickly shut it, locking it behind me and finally exhaling a long breath as I leaned my back against the door.

My insides trembled as I tried to gather my thoughts. Everything was so jumbled and out of control. Part of me wanted to go for a run to burn off the jitters. I hadn’t been able to exercise beyond sit-ups and push-ups in my room at the cabin.

But more than that? I was starving.

I pushed away from the door and stalked to the kitchenette area before yanking open the fridge.

“Dammit,” I swore, seeing that all the snacks and sodas I had stashed in there were gone and had been replaced with bottles of water and a baggy of raw carrots and celery.

I slammed the door shut hard enough that it bounced back open. I kicked it with another curse and leaned against the counter to catch my breath.

A sob threatened to rip from my chest as I closed my eyes and buried my face in my hands.

I could do this.

I had to do this.

First, I needed a shower, and then I would go to bed. I had class in the morning, and I would already be behind after missing almost two weeks for an unnamed illness. That was the excuse Gary had given the school.

Of course, after the engagement party, everyone probably just assumed I was too embarrassed to return.

There was no way Dean had stopped at sharing that video with just the people at the party. By now it had probably gone viral and been uploaded to a porn site, where some guy in his parents’ basement was currently jerking off to it.

A shudder of revulsion rippled down my spine as I moved through the dark suite and into my bedroom. I flipped the light switch, and my heart tugged at seeing Sir Trunks-a-lot propped up against the pillows. The ratty, stuffed elephant was one of the few things I had brought from my old life into this world, and it looked just as out of place amongst the thousand-dollar-sheets as I felt.

I stripped out of my clothes as I went to the bathroom and was down to my underwear when I stepped onto the cool tiles and hit the switch.

The extreme brightness in the illuminated mirror over the sink space blinded me for a second before I adjusted and got my first look at myself in nearly two weeks.

I moved toward the mirror as if in a trance, barely recognizing the girl looking back.

My eyes were flat and my skin, already pale, looked even more translucent as all color had leached from my cheeks. The bruising and swelling around my face were gone. The only trace of Gary’s attack was the faint yellowish-green marks around my ribs.

I tentatively touched the skin and hissed at the ache that blossomed across my side. There wasn’t much left between my skin and my bones as I prodded my ribs. I had lost weight over the last two weeks.

That unnamed illness excuse wasn’t that much of a stretch; I looked like I was sick.

I twisted away from the mirror and finished getting undressed before knotting my hair into a messy bun and stepping into the glass shower.

The initial cold spray was a shock to my system that quickly bled away as I turned the hot water on full blast. My skin turned red as I let the hot water sluice over me and tried to scrub away the past two weeks. The feel of the cabin and the stale, oppressive air. Even the lingering, heavily fragranced scent of the aftercare lotion the waxer had used tasted cloying on my tongue.

---