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Nate walks into the bathroom, his hair all over the place and his white Calvin Klein boxers on. He doesn’t spare me a second glance, just goes straight to the sink and squirts toothpaste onto his toothbrush.

“Madi?”

“What?” I ask, looking back to the floor. No smart remark from Nate? That’s unlike him. I look back up to him in the mirror. He brushes his teeth, his eyes peering back, but this time they’re looking through me, not at me, and when it comes to Nate, there’s a huge difference. I shiver at the stare he’s giving me.

“Sorry, um, yeah, Carter said he would.”

“Okay, good.”

Nate stops his brushing, his eyes remaining on me as he leans over and slowly spits. Rinsing his toothbrush, he puts it back on the sink.

“I gotta go.” Just as I hang up the phone, Nate walks out, slamming the door behind himself. What the fuck is his problem? Deciding I don’t want to face his bullshit, I walk over and flick the lock before shimmying out of my pajamas.

Scrubbing the sweet-smelling soap into my skin, my eyes close as vivid pictures of the night they stopped me down the dark road come back to me. My breathing picks up slowly, my chest rising and falling. “You want to play a game, kitty?” The rough material of their ski masks burn across my face. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Flight. My hand skims over my belly ring, down to the apex of my thighs. “You know you want this, kitty,” Bishop’s lazy voice comes into earshot. I do.

Slipping my fingers between my folds, I glide one of my fingers inside me. Groaning and tilting my head back, I massage the inside of myself, Bishop’s grin flashing in my memories. His touch, the way he rode my body until I couldn’t feel my legs and sweat was pouring out of my pores. The way he ran his tongue all over my flesh and then down to my clit.

I grab onto the soap and lather up my finger before bringing it back to my clit, imagining it’s Bishop’s expert tongue flicking over my nub. My eyes slam shut, my legs clench, and my core erupts in pleasure as my orgasm rips through me, owning me. Opening my eyes slowly, I blush. I can’t believe I just fucking did that. I hate him, so why the fuck does he still turn me on? Even though I know nothing was real with him? Am I that screwed up?

Possibly.

Getting out of the shower, I dry myself quickly and get dressed. Walking down the stairs, the house is eerily silent, something I used to be accustomed to. But since being here, it’s not something I’m used to anymore because of Nate, who is the furthest thing from silent. “So much for babysitting,” I mutter to myself, as I step outside our front door and see his car is gone. Closing it, Sam opens the door behind me again. “Madi, you need a ride to school today?”

I shake my head. “It’s cool. I’ve got that camping trip tonight, remember?” My dad and Elena will be home tonight from their trip too, so I won’t be coming home after my detour to the library. I figure I’ll get changed in the girls’ locker rooms before leaving and get a workout in before the school gym closes at ten. By the time I get out to the site, which apparently isn’t a real campsite, it will be close to midnight, but I’m hoping that it’s one, easy to find, and two, it’s easy to fricking find.

“Oh, right. Do you have everything packed?”

“Yes, Sammy, I have everything.” I step down the stairs, clutching my duffel bag. “I’ll see you on Sunday!” I yell out to her.

“Oh! Madi!” Sammy hollers, and I spin around.

“What?”

She rushes inside and then comes out again, tossing me some keys. “The GMC isn’t here. It’s getting fixed, something to do with a faulty fuel pump.” She shakes her head then looks back to me. “You’ll have to take your dad’s Aston Martin.”

I catch the keys midair. “The DB9?” I shiver. “I can’t take that. He’ll kill me.”

“He will not, and he was the one who called me to say you needed to use that car.”

I pause. “Is this a joke?” I look around my body. “Daddy loves me, but he doesn’t love me that much.”

Sammy laughs, spinning around and waving my dramatic ass off. “Have fun, Madison.”

I grin. Dad is letting me take the DB9? That’s so far past odd I can’t even see the fucking aliens anymore. That made no sense. I beep it unlocked, slide into the driver seat before clutching it into first gear, and drive toward the school.

I’m late. Again.

“Madison, I thought we had this discussion about your tardiness?” Mr. Barron, my physics teacher scolds, looking me up and down. Mr. Barron is one of those teachers who have an authoritative hand, but you don’t mind, because he’s young and handsome, so you wouldn’t mind him spanking your ass while you call him Daddy.

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