"You falling asleep?" I ask quietly.
Her eyes open immediately. "No. Not at all. Just... closing my eyes helps me focus on your voice."
"You sure? I can take you back to your room if you need to rest. No one will bother you there."
"I'm not sleepy. I'm still full of adrenaline." She sits up slightly, and the movement makes her tits bounce. I look away before I do something stupid like stare. "Closing my eyes just helps me concentrate. Your voice is... soothing."
Soothing. Right. That's what I'm going for while I'm sitting here rock-hard and thinking about all the ways I want to fuck her.
"Okay," I say. "Just checking."
She settles back down and closes her eyes again. I pick up the book and try to find where I left off, but my concentration is shot to hell.
This is a problem. A big fucking problem that's only going to get worse.
"This is gonna be a bigger problem tomorrow," I say, setting the book down.
Her eyes open. She sits up fully this time, pulling her knees to her chest in a way that should make her less appealing but somehow doesn't.
"Because you have to talk to your president?" she asks.
"Yeah. Pope. Tough as fuck but fair."
"Will he kick me out?"
"No. I don't think so. But he'll have rules. Strict ones."
"Like what?"
"Like no contact with your ex or your family. At all. No calls, no texts, no messages through friends. Nothing that could lead them here."
"I already blocked them."
"That's good. But if they come looking, if they show up, if they make noise, it becomes a problem for the club. And if they get the cops involved, that's an even bigger problem. We don't need that kind of attention."
She's quiet for a moment, processing. "I've been thinking about it. About cutting them off for good."
"Your family?"
"Yeah. I trusted them. Told them what was happening and they chose him over me. They chose his comfort, his reputation, his feelings over my safety. What kind of family does that?"
"A shitty one."
"I let them do it. Let them tell me I was overreacting, that I was being dramatic, that I just needed to try harder. For two years, I let them make me feel like I was the problem." Her voice is getting stronger, angrier. "So maybe saying goodbye forever is the right choice. Maybe they don't deserve to be in my life."
I stand up, needing to move, and sit next to her on the bed. Not too close. Just close enough that she knows I'm listening.
She doesn't flinch. Doesn't move away. If anything, she leans slightly closer, her face turned toward me like she's trying to hear every word.
"Cutting them off now makes sense," I tell her. "They proved they can't be trusted. They proved they'd rather protect an abuser than protect you. So yeah, cut them off. But forever is a long time. They're still your family."
"Family doesn't do what they did."
"You're right. They don't." I pause, choosing my words. "But as someone who never had a family, who spent his entire childhood being shuffled between foster homes and never getting chosen, I wonder how much it would take to cut one off if I ever had one."
Her expression softens. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be complaining about my family to someone who—"
"Don't apologize. Your shit is valid regardless of my shit. I'm just saying... I don't know. I've spent my whole life wishing I had people who were supposed to care about me. And you have them, they're just doing a shit job of it. Maybe one day they'll wake up and realize what they did. Maybe they won't. But that's their problem, not yours."
