Page 181 of Lessons in Cruelty

Jackpot.

They get crammed into my pocket, but something doesn’t feel right, so I pull them out again.

There’s a folded up page between the bills.

I recognize it instantly.

She fucking kept this?

Even despising me, she couldn’t let me go. This is why she’ll always be mine, whether she admits it not.

Because even her hate belongs to me.

When I open the page, I’m instantly transported back to the day I got this letter from Ashwood Crossing. It’s the first time I’d gotten mail from that town, and I almost tossed the envelope.

Until I recognized the handwriting.

I got all fucking excited, because it was the first time Haven had written me since she’d disappeared. She was finally apologizing, she’d maybe even say she’d had a change of heart, that I wasn’t a loser, that I’d done the right thing, that we could still be friends⁠—

I WISH I NEVER MET U

I FUCKING HATE U

BURN IN HELL

But Haven wants what Haven wants, and she’s a little fucking bitch if she doesn’t get her way. So I scrawled back a response on the same piece of paper and mailed it the fuck back to her.

I shove the paper back inside the envelope and hesitate before cramming it into my pocket with the cash.

Then I go back to the tote bag for more, feeling my way around in the dark. Books, more books, a pen that pokes the tip of my finger, then…

Fucking gold.

I’m holding a spiral-bound notebook.

ACTIVITY LOG

Fuck. I could turn on a light and read this shit straight away, but then I’d be a sitting duck for anyone who looked my way. Right now, I’m obscured by shadows.

I could do anything in the dark.

So I take out my cock and relive every second of what just happened upstairs.

And fuck me, the replay is even better.

Haven can hate me all she wants, but her body knows who it belongs to.

My girl’s pussy gets wet for one person, and one person only.

The boy who taught her how good pain feels.

Chapter 45

Haven

I barely slip past Melissa undetected, hiding in the shadow of an open door further up the hall from our room. I’ve taught myself how to become invisible. Another Riverside survival skill these rich kids would never understand.

Only when I hear the toilet flush and hear my new roommate flick off the bathroom’s light, do I dare peek out.