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“Bastian—”
“This is not up for debate either.”
“Seems like there’s a lot that isn’t up for debate.”
He quirks another grin at me. “You’re my responsibility, baby girl. And you know I take my responsibilities very seriously.”
“Why can’t I have any say in my own life?”
"You will. You'll have plenty of say in your own life," he replies. "When you're older. When you're through with school and ready to be a grown-up."
“I’m eighteen, Uncle Bastian. I’m an adult.”
“By the letter of the law, sure. But you’ve still got some growing up to do,” he says. “You still have a lot of experiences you need before you’re an adult, baby girl.”
He licks his lips, and his eyes slide up and down my body as he says that. Am I wrong for wondering what sort of experiences he has in mind… and hoping they’re something lurid and passionate? The thought of it sends a flash of heat through my sex. My mouth is dry as a desert, but my palms and pussy are as moist as a rainforest. My body aches with need. With desire. I tug hard the end of my hair hoping that sharp pain pushes the salacious thoughts from my mind.
“We’ll get you settled in here then enrolled in classes at Weston—”
“I’m already enrolled at State. I want to go to State, Uncle Bastian.”
“That’s not an option. You’ll go to Weston,” he says. “Jay will drive you to and from school and will see to your every need when I am not here.”
“And if I say no?” I ask. “If I tell you I’d rather live out on the streets by myself than live like this and let you control every facet of my life?”
“That will not happen,” he tells me. “As I keep telling you, none of this is up for debate, baby girl. This is all happening, so you need to get used to it.”
I’m an independent woman. I don’t like being told what to do or being ordered about. I don’t like the idea of somebody planning my life for me. And I sure as hell don't like the idea of being forced to attend an all-girls college. If it were anybody else, I’d be in their face, telling them off. Beneath Bastian’s sultry gaze though, I feel powerless to say or do anything.
Bastian has let me into a side of his life and his world I was never intended to set foot into. That independent side of me may not like that he’s arranging everything in my life, but he's gone to a lot of trouble to keep his promise to my father and take care of me. And it’s strange as hell but it fills me with a warmth I’ve never known before.
Though there’s something I still find demeaning about it, I can’t lie and say that it doesn’t also make me feel cared for. Maybe even… loved. That’s not something I’m willing to share with Bastian though. That might only encourage him to take more control from me.
“May I go to my cell, Uncle Bastian?”
His eyes linger on mine for a moment then slide down my body and I get that sense of his hunger again. It radiates from him like heat from the sun. He looks… conflicted. As if his body wants one thing but his mind refuses to let him have it. But then he gives himself a shake and pulls his eyes away from me.
“Margaret will show you to your room,” he says.
5
Sebastian
Istomp on the accelerator, nudging my car up to eighty as I race down the highway, my lips curled back into a snarl, anger flowing through my veins. She’d done her best to avoid me the last couple of days, so I gave her some time to cool down. But then I had to go to work only to come home from my shift at the firehouse to find that Bree had snuck out of the house at some point while I was gone. Jay, who was supposed to be watching her had no idea where she was. Thought she’d barricaded herself in her room.
Apparently, the untouched tray of food on the cart beside the door wasn’t clue enough that she wasn’t in there. Jay is no longer in my employ since I obviously can’t trust him to keep an eye on my baby girl. I racked my brain for a little while, trying to figure out where she might have gone. After all her bluster about living on the streets rather than in my home, I feared she might have gone to do just that. She’s a girl who likes nice things but she’s also a girl who’s headstrong enough to pull some silly stunt just to make a point.
After going back to Eddie’s house and not finding her there, it occurred to me that she went to the one place I forbade her from going. School. I did a little digging and spoke to the registrar at State and learned that Bree has taken up a room in the dorms and intends to start classes when they begin in a couple of days. Yeah, well, baby girl’s plans are about to change whether she likes it or not. And I can guarantee she won’t.
The drive to her school—or rather, her former school—takes me about forty-five minutes. I pull my Mercedes GLE into the lot and shut the engine off then hop out. I set the alarm and then walk onto campus, passing tall, red brick buildings and knots of students clustered about talking to each other. There’s an energy on campus with the semester about to start. An electricity. It’s a powerful and heady feeling of freedom for the kids who are away from home for the first time. I felt it when I went away to college too.
It takes me a minute, but I finally find Dormer Hall and am appalled to see that it’s a co-ed dorm. It makes my blood boil and justifies my decision to take her out of this school and instead put her into a place like Weston College. The thought that some drunken frat boy might think he has the right to put his hands on her soft skin or his cock inside her turns my stomach and fills me with a nearly uncontrollable rage.
As I march through the lobby of the dorm, a young woman in a flowery sundress that falls to the middle of her thighs steps over to me, a wide smile on her face. She puts herself in my path, forcing me to stop, and looks me up and down appraisingly. There's a gleam in her eye and her smile turns sultry.
“Hey there. I’m Mandy and I’m one of the RAs for Dormer Hall,” she purrs. “I’m guessing you don’t know your way around here, so what can I help you with?”
“Nothing,” I say. “I’m fine. But thank you.”
