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I know the boys have been fucking with her, pushing her away, making her hate them, be fearful of them. They released the shower video just this morning, with my help, the college halls plastered with naked pictures of her. Which works out great for me, she’s upped her time with me lately. And my physiological mind fuck sessions with her are just the cherry on top of the cake.
I love breaking apart pretty things.
Those boys have violent plans for this girl, they’re going to push her so much further, she might not make it back after tonight, at least, not in one piece anyway. She’ll give up trying tomake Texas work for her, and run home to her daddy. Broken, desecrated, ruined.
I don’t know why she hasn’t left yet, considering the mean shit they’ve been doing to her. Most of it’s petty, well, all except for Lynx. He’s really stepped up his fucking game, even I was surprised by.
Speaking of which, “Tell me about the door,” I encourage quietly, switching my question, watching for the flinch I know is coming.
She’s been sitting in this room with me for the last six weeks, an hour a day, five days a week, because that’s one of her enrollment conditions.
But tonight’s different.
It’s Saturday.
Andsheasked to seeme.
She flinches, just as I expected, at my question. A tremble tearing through her core, shoulders twitching, she shakes her head, sucks in an almost silent breath that I’d miss if I weren’t paying incredible attention. It’s as though I can feel it in my own chest, sharp and uncomfortable.
I am fixated on her, on playing with her. Her every breath, every sound, every word, every fucking second of her existence, I watch her. Through camera feeds when I can’t follow her around campus. In person the rest of the time. She is my newest obsession and I’ve been holding back, staying unseen, but tonight, tonight, it’s as though she knew I was there, specificallyfor her.
She flicked that addicting lilac gaze over her shoulder, wind whipping strands of her long hair across her pale face, her eyes locked on mine, her head tilted, and she mouthed my name like a question. My feet moved me towards her across the quad like she tugged on an invisible tether, as though she opened herdemonic book of tricks and summoned me with not much more than a blink.
I think of her voice, the way she rasped her question,‘May I see you later today? If you have time for me, Mr. Marshall.’
I bite down on my teeth, jaw cracking as my molars squeak, my dick rising to fucking attention, once again.
“Poppy?” I clear my throat, cocking my head.
“Right,” she whispers, drawing my eye to the length of her pale throat as it rolls with her dry swallow.
“The door?”
“It was nothing,” she says quickly, my lips pulling into a slow smirk, I drop my gaze, dipping my chin to hide my reaction.
“Somebody removed your dorm room door, and you didn’t report it to anyone. That doesn’t feel like nothing to me.”
“It was just a prank, ya know, ‘cause I’m new,” she laughs awkwardly.
“You can tell me what happened, who did it. Nothing leaves this room,” I fold my arms over the desk, watching her continue to fidget.
She looks at me then, dead in the eye, “Really, Mr. Marshall-”
“Flynn.”
“Really,Flynn,it was just a prank. I thought it was funny.”
She absolutely did not think it was funny. The same way that my little brother, Raiden, despite snapping the door handle, also, did not find Lynx’s removal of the entire doorfunny.
“Okay,” I relent, a small smile on my face. “And what about tonight, the reason you wanted to see me, you wanted to talk?”
“Not really,” she responds quickly, her cheeks glowing red, she stutters, “I mean, well, what I mean is, that, um, well, I-”
“Whatever it is, Poppy, that’s what I’m here for,” I interrupt her stuttering, wetting my lips.
I smile again, this calculated warm pull of my mouth that has people spilling some of their most terrifying secrets. I haveblackmail on most attendees at this college, staff and students alike.
Chin tucked, her eyes lifting, gaze ensnaring my own, she licks her lips, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, before quickly recovering it. Another habit I’ve taken note of, hiding her ears, like she dislikes them, they stick out a little and I want to see them more, makes me want to take scissors to her hair, but I have plans for that too, so I probably shouldn’t. Although, she could probably pull off a pixie cut if she wanted to.
