Chapter 3
I didn’t go to classes on Monday.
I said I had the flu and stayed in bed, facing the wall. Sheri brought me microwaveable soup and crackers from the Shell station, and I told her I was only crying because my head hurt.
Tuesday, I managed to pull myself together. Nothing happened, really. Theo hadn’t actually raped me. I was the same girl I’d been before. It wasn’t like I had to see him again either. I didn’t have any classes with him. He was an upperclassman, and we didn’t run in the same circles. And no one else knew what had happened—I’d decided not to tell a soul—so all I had to do was smile and pretend nothing had happened. Easy peasy.
If it wasn’t exactly easy, it was at least doable. As doable as it had been when my mother had died five years ago and kids at school had pointed and whispered behind my back. I’d put on a happy face and acted as if it meant nothing. As if it didn’t hurt. That experience with tragedy had taught me an important lesson in how to deal with hard things—you smile, you nod, you go on.
That’s how I’d planned to handle Intro to Business Ethics too. I knew it would be different because of Donovan, because he knew. But it wasn’t like he was going to bring it up in class. We’d never even talked before that night at The Keep. He was my teacher. I looked to him to learn things. He looked at me as another paper to grade. I didn’t think it would be a problem.
I walked in to the lecture hall, early as usual, and headed for a seat in the front row. Normally I came in from the door below, but this time I came in from above since I’d stopped for a bottle of water before class and taken a different route to get there. As I walked down the stairs, I glanced down at the teacher’s desk, and maybe I was a little nervous about seeing Donovan because I silently hoped it was Velasquez teaching today.
It wasn’t.
Donovan sat at his laptop, wearing his grey trousers and a dress shirt and tie under his black pullover, and as though he could sense me, he looked up just then and caught my gaze.
I froze, unable to take another step.
My knees swayed. Sweat beaded on my brow. It was like he was a trigger. My entire pretense fell apart, and I was transported back to that night. I swore I could feel Theo’s palm across my mouth. The sound of his nose cracking echoed in my ears. Emotion overwhelmed me.
But it wasn’t just terror and humiliation that I felt. There was something even worse underneath it all. Something ugly but undeniable.
As soon as I recognized it, I flushed with panic. Donovan had to notice because his eyes narrowed and his chin tilted up with curiosity. I wanted to turn around and run out of the classroom, but that would only direct attention to myself. Besides, my legs felt like jelly at the moment, so I slipped into a seat in the row I was already standing in and ducked my head, pretending not to realize that my behavior might be odd or that he was still watching me.
Actually, I wasn’t pretending—I didn’t care if he was watching me. I didn’t even care about keeping an eye out for Weston like I usually did. I had to figure out what the ever-living fuck was wrong with me. My heart was pounding, my clothes felt too hot, I felt restless and unsettled.
But it wasn’t thoughts of Theo that had me riled up. It was Donovan. From the way he’d taunted me in his bedroom to the way he’d commanded the situation with Theo to the way his jaw set when he studied me with those intense eyes.
God, those eyes…
I snuck a glance at him as he stood up to start the lecture, and another tumultuous, confusing wave rolled through my body. I shifted in my seat, but it didn’t help. When he started talking it was even worse. His voice sent shivers down my spine. I drank in every word, yet sentences went by without me comprehending a single phrase.
I was seriously fucked.
Whatever was happening, there had to be a perfectly natural explanation. Like, I was having a psychotic break. My mind was trying to change the terrible thing that happened to me by associating Donovan and pleasant feelings with that night instead of Theo and those awful ones.
Except these feelings weren’t exactly pleasant. They were sick and tormenting. They were fierce and turbulent. I had to cross my legs and uncross them at least a hundred times just to make it through his lecture, the whole time hating myself because I couldn’t settle down.
It all made me mad. And uncomfortable. And then mad again. For so many reasons. I was mad at Donovan anyway because of everything he knew. Not just about what Theo did, but those other things that he’d said about me in his room. Those things he’d perceived about me so easily. I didn’t like him knowing me like that. It felt invasive. Like a violation.
And I was mad about how he’d taken his time in rescuing me.
And how he didn’t even seem to really be sure he was glad he saved me at all.
Mostly I was mad about the thoughts I was having about him, even though they weren’t really his fault. Yet, if he hadn’t been so fucked up with the way he’d gone about dealing with that night, I wouldn’t probably be so fucked up with the way I felt about it now. So maybe it was fine to blame him for that too.
Whoever was to blame, it didn’t matter. I was the one who had to deal with it. It wasn’t like he cared about how I’d come out of the nightmare. I’d figure it out, somehow.
After what felt like the longest hour of my life, the class was finally over. I took off the second we were excused, careful to dodge Donovan by going up the stairs again instead of exiting below. I’d planned to grab lunch with a friend, but I had to run by my apartment first to change my panties before my next class. That’s how bad it was.
Once I was out of Donovan’s presence, I was sure the whole strange thing would blow over. I thought about Weston to clear my head. He was the guy I’d been into. He was the one that gave me butterflies to think about. Still. Even now.
The rest of the day, however, I found my mind wandering back to Donovan now and then, found myself imagining different endings to the night at The Keep. What if he had asked me back inside after Theo had left? What if I hadn’t left his room in the first place?
I was ashamed of myself.
But it’s where I got the idea of how to deal with the bad dreams I’d had ever since it had happened. That night when I woke up in a cold sweat with the ghost of Theo’s touch on my skin, I slid my hand beneath my panties and erased the memory with thoughts of Donovan.
“Did he hurt you too badly?” he asked, cupping my cheek as Theo hobbled down the street. His hand was warm against my skin, tentative without being gentle.
“Not too badly,” I whispered, looking into his hazel eyes. My escort pulled up at the curb and both of us turned toward it, but instead of walking away, Donovan pulled me into his arms.
“Let me take care of you tonight.” With a nod, he sent the car away. Then he bent to his knees and pulled down my pants, pulled down my underwear, neither asking permission nor apologizing for his eagerness.
But I wanted him there, so it was different than when Theo had forced me.
The air was cold on my bare legs, but soon all I felt was the heat of his tongue between my folds. He licked up and down my slit aggressively several times, then thickened his tongue to a point and inserted it inside me.
I came almost at once and slept soundly until morning.