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Casper stretches into me and then stills, moaning loudly as he empties inside me.
Neither of us move, our eyes locked as we stare at each other. I don’t know what he sees, but I’m too scared to think about how much I still want him.
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
It’s been almost twenty-four hours since I was with Casper. I can still feel him, smell him, and taste him as if he’s left permanent scars all over my body. He’s ruined me forever.
No amount of showering helps, either.
If sex can drive you to insanity, Casper has sent me there. And another thing that is absolutely the worst?
I miss him.
I mean, what the hell is that?
Freya and Imani haven’t noticed anything different, which is a miracle because I feel like I have a neon sign above my head that reads: I SLEPT WITH CASPER… AND I LOVED IT. But I’m angry with myself at the same time. Since when did I become the type of woman who would ignore how awfully someone has treated her because of orgasms?
We haven’t spoken about it with the girls, but I need to. I will.
I’m home alone right now because they both have later classes. Imani might be staying with Marvin, anyway. They seem to go away a lot at the minute. I think they’re both soaking in the last few months before uni is over and our lives are all about work and responsibility.
I got home from the police station about an hour ago, telling them what Casper and I suspect.
I watch my phone ring for a few seconds, slightly deflated it isn’t Casper calling. It’s my aunt. I haven’t spoken to her since my mum turned up on campus and they attempted to rob Casper, not knowing it was my house. It’s still unbelievable that my aunt would tell her where I go to uni.
But how else did she find me?
“Ainsley, darling,” Aunt Jess says the second I pick up. “I want to talk to you about something.”
The time for that chat was a couple of days ago. “I think I can guess what that thing is,” I say, chewing on a nail.
I slump down on the sofa, trying to figure out how to ask her this without sounding like I’m accusing her. She knows how I feel about my mother so she wouldn’t have told her on purpose.
Aunt Jess only keeps in contact with Katie because she feels responsible for her younger sister.
“Oh, what is it?” her voice carries caution, and I’m pretty sure she knows what I’m about to say.
“I had a visitor a couple days ago. An unwelcome one.”
She gasps down the phone. “Oh, no. Your mum showed up at uni?”
“Yeah. Listen, did you tell her where I am?”
“No, darling. Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to you after you asked me not to. She came here last week, and I guess she saw the pictures in the massive photo collage Bill made. You know how he gets with your achievements.”
Right. My uncle is probably the proudest man on the planet and has at least ten photos of us on moving in day. One of them is me grinning next to the uni sign the day they moved me into the halls.
I wince, feeling so stupid for believing that she would tell my mum anything personal about my life. They have the occasional two-minute phone conversation where Aunt Jess relents and sends her money through PayPal.
“I’m sorry. She said you told her, so I had to ask. I should’ve known she was making it up. All she does is lie. I don’t think she knows how to tell the truth.”
Jess growls quietly. It’s rare she shows any kind of negative feelings towards my mum, but a few have slipped out. I don’t know how she manages to stay so calm. It must take alotof self-control.
“I wouldn’t have without your permission,” she says.
“I know. I thought it sounded weird. If she came to you last week, do you think she’s been here the whole time trying to find me?”
How long has she been here watching and plotting?
