Page 58 of Lessons in Cruelty

But she’s spent too long on the wrong side of the tracks, not daring to trust anyone or anything.

“Fine. I guess one can’t be too careful these days.” I flick my hand at her. “Send your live location to a friend, if you must.”

Haven grabs her tote bag, but only to clasp it tighter to her side. The flush on her cheeks has just faded away, but it comes back full force. Without a word, I take my phone out of my pants pocket and tap on one of my contacts.

Stepping one foot out of the car, I sit forward and hold the phone between me and Haven. As soon as the call is answered, I tap the screen to put it on speaker.

“Need something, Sir?” Kai’s husky voice comes through on the line crystal clear.

There’s panic in Haven’s eyes when she looks up at me.

“Yes, Mr. Jordan. I will be taking Miss Lee to fetch some school supplies. She should be back by two. If she goes missing, please alert the authorities. Isn’t that right, Miss Lee?”

Haven clears her throat. “Yes. That’s…correct.”

There’s just silence on the other end of the line.

“May I get a confirmation for Miss Lee?”

“Yeah, sure,” Kai grumps like I told him he’d better be home before ten or he’s grounded. “Whatever you say, Sir.” But his voice is a little brighter when he adds, “Have fun, Haven. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

I end the call, raising my eyebrows at her as I stretch out my leg, the phone going back in my pocket. “Are you satisfied, Miss Lee?”

Her eyes are glassy again. I wonder where she goes when she tucks herself away like that. The past or the future?

“I have to be back by two, Professor,” she says woodenly.

Warmth flushes through me. I’d be disappointed at how quickly she folded, but then I wouldn’t be giving myself enough credit. Manipulation is easy to learn. Mastering it, however, takes time, patience, and godlike levels of sadism.

I began studying it in early childhood. I’d mastered it before I could legally order a scotch.

“Of course.” I lift my hands in mock surrender. “Barring an act of God.”

She hesitates one more time, and then hurries around the back of my car and slides into the passenger seat.

God has nothing to do with this.

This is pure psychological warfare. The fact that she climbs into my car, trusting and vulnerable, proves I’ve already won the first battle.

The faint scent of chapstick and drugstore deodorant fills my nose. She slips the fingers of her slim hand through her hair, trying to comb out the mess. Her nervousness is as satisfying as the way she peeks around at the luxurious interior.

I watch her from the corner of my eye as I tap on the Tesla’s touchscreen, suppressing a smile when she strokes her hands down the soft leather.

“Somewhat different from yours, isn’t it?” I say, not unkindly. She snatches her hands away, her lips tightening, causing me to chuckle. “There’s no shame in wanting more, Miss Lee.”

Her eyes flicker to me, like she’s picking up subtext in my words, but she’s not sure what to make of it.

She’ll learn.

Her eyes drift back to the window, one finger idly tracing the stitching on the car seat.

“Bastian,” I say.

Haven jerks like she’s coming out of a daydream. “Sorry?”

I point behind us at the sprawling campus, steering out of the parking space with the heel of my hand on the wheel. “In there, it’s Professor. Out here, it’s Bastian.”

Her eyes flicker like a Northern Blue butterfly caught in a mason jar. She can’t see the confines of her trap, can’t understand why she isn’t as free as she was only a moment ago.