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After a few moments, I let out a scream that hurts so badly I can barely stay upright. My hands drop from Wes’s throat, and I fall into his chest with a suppressed sob.
“Why did it have to be you?” I whisper.
He strokes my back and sighs. “I ask myself the same question every day.”
I close my eyes in an attempt to keep the rest of my tears at bay. Today has felt like an entire goddamn year. Being this angry is exhausting. Having to deal withthemis exhausting.
As I pry myself from Wes’s arms, I whimper as a particularly sharp pain shoots through me. Instantly, his hands are on me, and he’s helping me to my feet.
“You need to rest,” Cal says.
“Shut up,” I reply weakly. “Stop telling me what to do.”
Cal makes a frustrated sound but doesn’t say anything else. I brush past him, ignoring all three of their stares burning the back of my neck.
“I’m going to sleep,” I say without turning to face them. “I’d prefer if you left, but I have a feeling you won’t. Donottouch me while I sleep. Don’t even look at me. Hell, if you come into the room, I’m beating you to death.”
They know it’s a lie.
But I hope they understand what I mean.
In my room, I lock the door, knowing it won’t do much if one of them decides to come in. Thankfully, there’s an ensuite bathroom, so I’m able to brush my teeth and wash my face in peace.
I wince when I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are bloodshot and haunted, and the bruises on my neck look worse than they did this morning.
Turning away, I grab fistfuls of my hair and pull. It’s not hard enough to yank it out, but it feels like some type of release.
Why do they have to be so insufferable?
As I crawl into bed, my phone buzzes on my nightstand. I roll my eyes when I see it’s a text from Cal, but I read it anyway.
Cal:I know it sucks, but try to sleep sitting up. It’s just for the first few days.
I reply with the middle finger emoji.
Still, I do as he says. I’m not trying to kill myself or make the healing process last longer than it needs to. There are plenty ofpillows, so once I’ve arranged them in a way that I’ll be comfy, I turn off my lamp.
My body aches, and I’m still on the verge of tears as I stare into the dark room.
Not enough.That’s the thought that keeps echoing around in my mind. Nothing the guys have done or said has been enough, and me trying to hurt Wes definitely wasn’t, either. They have to pay. The question is, how?
I’m not big or strong enough to be able to cause them much physical pain, nor is that the route I want to take this. They caused me emotional pain. My mental health plummeted freshman year, and it hasn’t recovered since. I thought I had a lot of panic attacks in high school, but thanks to the three of them, the number skyrocketed in college.
Professor Kammes is partially to blame, too, but Wes, Cal, and Kellan were present for more of my day-to-day activities. Thankfully, Professor Kammes has to keep his distance in public.
What could I possibly do to hurt them the way they hurt me?
Before I’ve even finished thinking through the question, an idea pops into my mind. Or, more specifically, something Wes told me.
You haunted me, Athelia. I couldn’t even escape you in my dreams. So no, I wasn’t angry. I wastormented.
Even when the guys couldn’t have me, they couldn’t stop thinking about me. I think Wes was probably being a little dramatic when he said I tormented them, but so what? I can still make them feel that way again.
Except this time, I’ll make it worse.
I smile into the darkness. For so long, I’ve been powerless against Professor Kammes and the guys. But now, for the first time, I realizeIhold all the power.
The guys are going to kill Professor Kammes forme.
