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Stop procrastinating. You have to get out of here.
Before I leave, I grab my phone and call Haven, but she doesn’t answer. By the time I’m throwing myself into my car, I’ve left her three frantic texts.
Maybe she spent the night with that Aaron guy.
Or maybe she’s dead in a ditch.
I try not to worry about Haven as I speed all the way to Professor Kammes’s house. This is the first year we’ve taken our meetings off-campus. It’s wildly inappropriate, but everything about our relationship has been since day one. He exploited his position as my professor and as my advisor, and he has me helplessly cornered.
I park in front of his house before rushing up his driveway. After ringing the doorbell, I straighten my hair and clothes and try to calm my breathing. But the second Professor Kammes opens the door, I realize there’s no use.
He grabs my arm and yanks me inside before slamming the door shut behind me. In a split second, he has me pinned to the door with his hand around my throat. His grip is tight, pressing against my windpipe and cutting off my ability to breathe.
It’s at this moment that I think of Wes. I lost count of how many times he had his fingers wrapped around my throat yesterday, but he was always careful not to crush my windpipe. Even when he was angry with me, he was still careful. And on the occasions that he wasn’t, Cal stepped in.
“Stop,” I’m barely able to manage.
“Where were you?” Professor Kammes growls.
I claw at his arms. He’s wearing long sleeves, so it doesn’t cause him much pain. As I try desperately to break free, he only tightens his hold.
My eyes bug out, and my thoughts grow fuzzy. When my eyes slowly start to close, he releases my throat.
“Where were you?” he shouts again.
I gasp in breath after breath, massaging my neck. “I just—I just overslept. I’m sorry.”
“I heard someone when you were on the phone with me,” he says, and his eyes flick from my face to where I’m rubbing my neck. “I heard a man.”
“There were some guys talking in the hallway.”
His gaze sharpens, and he rips my hand away. “Don’t lie to me, girl.”
I realize too late that by trying to massage away the pain, I was fucking with the concealer on my neck. “No—”
Professor Kammes drags me through the house and into his office. He shoves me toward one of the chairs near his desk, but I trip and end up catching the arm with my side as I fall to the floor.
“Want to explain that hickey to me?” He kicks my thigh once, twice, until I’m able to scramble away.
“I didn’t want it,” I cry, even though it’s only a half truth.
“I told you not to lie to me, Athelia.” He grabs my hair and pulls me back to him. “Who gave it to you?”
“I… I don’t know his name.” Tears fill my eyes at the sting in my scalp. My side aches, and he kicked my thigh so hard that the pain is still radiating through my leg. “Please let go of me.”
He obliges, and I crash back to the floor. The carpet does little to cushion my fall.
“What did I tell you would happen if you let another man touch you?”
I stare at the floor, at the thousands of tiny white threads.Why did he have to pick me? Why didtheyhave to pick me?
“I told you there’d be consequences.” Professor Kammes is hovering over me now. His arms are folded over his chest, and the look he’s giving me is all rage.
It’s terrifying—more terrifying than Wes, Cal, and Kellan combined. They’ve never caused me bodily harm. Not like this.
“Get up.”
I don’t. The moment I do, I know what’s coming.
