Stalked by my Professor Novel

Chapter 44 I'm sitting cross-legged on the floor of me and Melissa's room, surrounded by textbooks and notes. Turns out hiding from the world is great for catching up on schoolwork, when I can concentrate longer than two seconds. My mind keeps wandering into the past like it's an okay place to be, and not some overgrown nightmare forest filled with voracious memories.

Saturday is the current trending hit, my brain replaying the feel of my father's tobacco-stained fingers digging into my arm, to the humiliation of having the entire town watching as the meth-head who spawned me screamed about his stolen car. Last Tuesday is a close second, featuring a range of blurry vignette-from Bastian twisting me open with his fingers and spitting inside me, to him sinking between my legs and fucking me within an inch of my life. The kiss between Bastian and Kai is a serious contender.

But...of course...nothing, nothing compares to the hazy, fractured memories trying to lure me in from much, much farther back. How Uncle Lenny grabbed the back of my hoodie as I tried to run out of the apartment. Him shoving me against the wall. How he snatched up Dad's car keys and ground them against my chest, coming in so close I could feel the heat of his body as he told me to take him to the underpass so he could score some meth. Dad had passed out on the couch, leaving me to drive Lenny. It was that, or distract my uncle with my cunt until Daddy woke up, as he'd put it.

Something snapped inside me that night. I was done sneaking into the house at ungodly hours. I was done living in filth, surrounded by junkies. I was done placating Lenny's violent mood swings with my cunt. But he had me by a fistful of my hoodie, and I knew I wasn't strong enough to fight him off. And I recognized the look in his spiteful blue eyes. The meth-roaches nesting inside his head had chewed through anything resembling morals or patience or empathy. He'd get his way, one way or the other.

The only choice I had in the matter was how much pain and humiliation I'd have to suffer through first. So I took the fucking keys. And I got in the car with Lenny. And I drove him to the goddamn underpass at one in the morning when no girl my age should've been near the place. So he could placate himself with meth...not me. But the moment Lenny's drug dealer spotted me in the car, shit went sideways. Like cosmic-horror-dimension type of sideways. I snap my textbook closed. Fuck this. What I should be doing instead of torturing myself, is completing some of my assignments.

I've never journaled or kept a diary, but it felt quite fucking cathartic when I wrote down all that childhood shit in my Activity Log last time. I should do that again, because damn do I need to purge. Where the hell is it? I push a textbook off the stack nearest me, riffle through a heap of notes. As I'm dragging my tote bag closer to make sure it isn't still inside, someone knocks on the door frame. I gasp, spinning to see Abigail hovering in the doorway, her perfectly manicured hand resting on the wood.

Ever since a video of my dad calling me a fucking cunt went viral, everyone in the sorority has been eyeing me like I might steal their hair irons. "Delivery for you," she says. A package? For me? My first thought is my father sending me something to fuck with my head. But he doesn't know about the sorority, and even if he did, he sure as hell can't afford to have something delivered, even if it was a bag of his own poop. Which leaves Bastian. Or Kai. I'm not sure which is worse. "Who it's from?" I ask as I slowly get up. Astrid shrugs, smoothing a hand down her velvet sweatpants.

"Didn't ask." I follow her downstairs, my heart thudding against my ribs. It's nearly two on a Monday afternoon, and with most of the girls on campus, it's quiet. I've only seen Abigail and a sophomore named Claudia since I dared venture downstairs. I'm not sure what time Melissa left this morning, but she made sure not to wake me. A bored-looking delivery guy holding an electronic signature pad and a package stands at the door. "Haven Lee?" he asks without looking up. "That's me." "Sign here." He taps a few times, then holds out the pad. I hesitate, my hand hovering over the screen.

"Who's it from?" He sighs as if I've asked him to recite the Constitution backward. "No idea." I scrawl my signature, and he hands me a small package before trudging back to his van. There's no return address on the shipping label. "What is it?" Astrid asks, not even trying to hide her snooping. "Guess I'll find out," I mutter, already heading back upstairs. I ignore her annoyed sigh, taking the steps a little faster than usual. I understand what Melissa was on about. It's kinda nice getting a delivery...even when I don't know what's inside. I close my room door behind me.

Wouldn't want to scar poor Abigail if she bursts in on me and it turns out someone sent me a dead rat, a bloody tampon, or indeed a big pile of poop. I give the box a wary sniff, then rip it open. To my relief, and shock, there's a brand new bubble-wrapped phone inside, a credit card with my name on it...and two packets of peanut butter cups. My stomach drops. There's a note tucked inside, written in handwriting I'd recognize anywhere. You push. I push back harder. That's who we are. Sorry it made you feel something you weren't ready for. The rest? I'm not sorry for that at all.

Regret's a luxury I can't afford. If I had to do it again, I would. Take the phone. Take the card. Get yourself something pretty. You know I like pretty things. Jesus, Bastian. What the fuck is this? Because it sure as hell isn't a fucking apology. And nowhere near a confession. Especially unsigned. Sure, handwriting analysis, bla bla bla. But he could've been talking about anything. Anyone. I should march this box downstairs and dump it in the trash. Better yet, find a hammer and smash the phone to pieces, cut the credit card into confetti, set the note on fire and spit on the ashes.

Instead, I just stare at the phone, turning it over in my hands. It's the latest model, sleek and black, probably worth more than everything I own combined. The credit card gleams under the bedroom light, my name embossed in raised letters. Haven Lee Like I'm a real person. Like I belong somewhere. The peanut butter cups feel like a taunt. He remembered how much I loved them. Something that should have been an insignificant detail. But nothing about Bastian Rooke is insignificant. Everything is calculated, deliberate, designed to burrow under my skin.

And he's always reminding me just how many steps ahead he is. I toss the phone onto the bed and pace the room, trying to think through the white noise in my head. Obviously, I could use a phone. Dad smashed mine beyond repair. I'm surprised my SIM card survived. I definitely need money. Bobby showing up was a stark reminder that I'm completely fucked if I lose my scholarship. And given my current academic performance, that's a very real possibility. A predicament I wouldn't be in if Bastian hadn't so thoughtfully quit my job at the diner on my behalf. I went to see Milo yesterday.

He seemed surprised to see me, but he was happy to offer me the weekend position if I wanted it. Pay wasn't close to anything I made at the diner, but the hours were much less, too. I'm starting this Saturday...and trying not to get freaked out whenever I think about it. My paranoia has reached an all time high. The whole time I was with Milo, I kept feeling like I was being judged by invisible eyes. It didn't help that he was flirting with me again. Didn't help that I caught myself flirting back. Maybe I am a closet slut. Fuck knows I don't need more complications in my life.

Question is, which would be less complicated? Telling Milo I'd reconsidered, or accepting Bastian's credit card? The shiny black card taunts me from the bed, catching the light when I turn. I pick it up and head over to the window to study it. It's been raining on and off most of the day, the gray skies muddying the pages I'm trying to read, but I was taught to keep the lights off during the day. With Milo's job, I should be able to afford some basic necessities.

Updates are released by FіndNovel.net But with Bastian's card I could get some essentials, and pay for a motel room if GAZ kicks me out. After the thing with my dad, I wouldn't be surprised if they did. I could even sell the phone for cash if I needed to. And why shouldn't I, after what my professor's done? If he's not going to apologize, not going to fucking repent, then why not make him pay some other way? I can't eat apologies. Can't put them in my gas tank. But that shiny credit card... Movement outside the window catches my eye.

I push back the lace curtain to see a familiar figure trudging down the street. Kai. His head is down, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders hunched like he's carrying the weight of the world. His hair is hanging over his forehead, but I know it's him from the way he walks. As if he can feel my eyes on him, Kai looks up. Right at me. I fall back from the window, my chest tight with shock at the furious glare Kai's face pulled into when he spotted me. Just my luck. The phone sits on the bed, innocent and sinister, all at once. I shouldn't. I really, really shouldn't. It feels like submission.

Like accepting it means accepting that what he did was okay. But it's not like Bastian fucking cares either way. I came right out and accused him, and the fucking snake didn't even blink. I guess we both know I won't go to the authorities. Not just because it would be my word against his, and like he so gracefully pointed out, the evidence is...ambiguous. Riversiders don't snitch. We get even. And until I figure out how to exact my revenge, why not use him, like he used me? Curiosity may have killed the cat...but everyone forgets how that story ends. Satisfaction brought it back.

If Bastian thinks I've forgiven him, he might let his guard down. And there's no reason to tell him I'm working for Milo. In fact, I won't tell anyone. It'll be my little secret...like all the others I'm keeping. The screen lights up when I press the power button, revealing a lock screen wallpaper that makes my blood freeze in my veins. It's a photo of Lookout Point-the best view of Agony Hollow for miles. The place I used to go park to get some shuteye, back when I was still sleeping in my dad's car.

Where I stood on the edge and desperately tried to think of reasons not to step off into nothing. Superimposed across the photo is a phrase in stark white. ABOVE THEIR REACH My hands shake so badly I nearly drop the phone. There's no way he can know the significance of that place. It's just a coincidence, right? I mean, if I wanted to take a photo of Agony Hollow, that's where I'd go. He can't know. But I wish he did. No one's ever thought about what happens to Haven Lee when she leaves their sight. Where she goes after a shitty day. If she sleeps like a rock at night, or tosses and turns.

No one's ever cared enough. With trembling fingers, I swipe across the screen. No password required. The phone unlocks immediately to a home screen organized with the apps I use most. Gmail. Notes. Maps. And VibeFeed, already installed and logged into the profile Bastian created for me...waiting like a bear trap in the woods. Seventeen unread messages. I know they're from him, because he's the only person who knows I have an account. Tears prick at my eyes, spilling down my cheeks a second later. My thumb hovers over the app, my pulse roaring in my ears.

Why is the fucking sociopath who violated me the only person who remembers what candy I like? Who sends me gifts, and buys me beautiful dresses, and calls me 'sweet girl' and sounds like he actually fucking means it? Only one way to find out. I tap the VibeFeed icon, but before I can open my DMs, someone turns the handle on my room door. I shove the phone, the credit card, and Bastian's note under the mattress just as the door opens. Melissa gives me a double take, then a tiny, secretive smile. "Don't bother trying to hide it." "What?" I squeak, quickly scouring around me.

I groan when I spot the ripped-open package still lying on the floor where I dropped it. She snatches it off the floor and peers inside, muttering, "Gotcha." Shit. Is there another note in there I missed? Something else? My heart clangs inside my chest as I step up to her, watching in wide-eyed horror as she reaches inside the box. "Holding out on me, huh?" She tsks, eyes narrowed as she draws out a bright orange packet. It says a lot that she assumes I had a box of peanut butter cups delivered to me when the vending machine in the campus cafeteria is a short walk away.

Fuck knows if she even wonders why there are only two in the box. Maybe she thinks I already ate the rest. I will my heart rate to drop to normal as she studies me for a long moment. "Know what goes great with these?" She waves the packet in my face. Gaslighting and rape? She slaps my shoulder. "Glass of milk and some weed, duh."