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Seeing no reply or call from Dad, I began chewing my inner cheek. My texts were marked as read. It wasn’t like him to ignore me, especially now. There was so much to talk about, and he was choosing not to say anything at all. His lack of response didn’t make the accusations against him or Mom any better.

I withheld a sigh and returned my phone to the pocket inside my satchel without opening any of the other messages. I didn’t have the brainpower to deal with those yet. As I was sitting back up Judas dropped a white paper bag onto my lap.

“What’s this?”

“Your breakfast.”

He placed some kind of iced drink topped with whipped cream and drizzle in his cup holder, thanking the older woman working the window before he drove off. Since I’d paid no attention to what he asked for, I pulled the bag open and peeked inside. A double-chocolate chunk muffin rested alongside a straw on a small stack of napkins.

“What about you?”

Ignoring me, he pulled back onto the main road like a normal driver this time, thank God.

“The drink has a shot of espresso. I know you’ll need it.”

“And you’re not going to eat?”

“I already did—twice.”

“When?”

“Yogurt with strawberries and a Whey smoothie while you were in the shower.”

This couldn’t be all he ate. “What kind of breakfast is that?”

“One that helps me keep the body you can’t keep your hands off of in shape.”

“Oh, please.” I pulled my muffin out of the bag. It was warm, smelled delicious, and was huge. The bottom of the liner was round as my palm. “What was the second thing?”

“That was the second thing. If you’ve already forgotten the first, I’m going to have to remedy that in the school’s parking lot.”

I shot him a look. I should’ve known that’s where he was going with this. “What happened to punctuality?”

“Four minutes is all I need to make you come screaming my name.”

“Judas, I’m not sure there’s enough room in this car for me, you, and that big ass ego you’re toting around.” I broke a piece of muffin off and popped it in my mouth. It tasted even better than it looked, a mass of chocolatey goodness.

I swallowed and broke off another bite before I reached for the drink.

“How did you find this place?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“I’d rather not.” That had the markings of another girl written all over it. Who needed that kind of negativity in their life?

I read the label on the side of the plastic cup. Caramel-crazed latte with a shot of espresso. Hmm, he did well.

“Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

“Because you just bought me food?”

Did he make a sound of…irritation? With him, I could never be sure.

“If I can fuck you I can damn sure feed you. What kind of asshole doesn’t make sure his girl eats?”

“You don’t have to take care of me.”

He reached over and placed a hand on my knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I do have to take care of you, but I don’t want your thanks. I want you to get used to it.”

I popped my straw into the latte and took a generous sip to save myself from having to reply to that. He’d fucked, threatened, and fed me all in the span of a few hours. It’s almost comical how that wasn’t too concerning or abnormal unless you were anyone other than us.

I shifted in my seat, trying to get comfortable and focus on what the teacher was saying. All I heard was a jumbled mess of words that made zero sense.

I’d somehow managed to make it to Theology, a class I never would’ve fucking selected for myself.

I don’t know why I let Judas bring me to school today. I had the attention span of a goldfish that was belly-side up. Everything was starting to hurt from my head to my toes. The espresso I drank was the only thing keeping my eyes open and those felt like they were burning. Sneaking back home and diving beneath my comforter was sounding more and more tempting.

Suppressing a yawn, I glanced down just as my cell lit up for the hundredth time displaying Audrey’s name in the notification bar. I hadn’t spoken to her yet. I knew sooner than later we would have to talk. I hoped my dad knew that too seeing as he still hadn’t text me back. I was much closer to him than I was to Mom. He’d always been someone I thought the world of.

Dad was kind and giving, he loved me to death. I couldn’t wrap my head around the image of him Judas had painted, but I also couldn’t outright reject it.

Judas had been right. That boy knew me so disturbingly well. When it was just the two of us, lost in our world and each other none of this had weighed on me so heavily. Now that I was forced from our bubble things were beginning to sink in and I was being pulled in a million different directions.

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