To tell her everything.

To beg her to help me.

But she wasn’t home.

For the first time in a very time, I was alone and unwanted.

Not entirely true.

I was wanted.

Just by the devil in female clothing.

I’d lingered outside Olin’s place until hunger drove me away. I didn’t know who she’d turned to thanks to my betrayal, but I only hoped she was warm and safe.

Just knowing her future hung in the balance because of me and my actions forced my feet to carry me back to the hovel I was born in and tumble into a dirty bed.

That night, my dad beat me brutally—thanks to one of his bourbon-induced rages, and I spent Saturday nursing my wounds. Olin was once again somewhere else when I stumbled to her house in pain.

By Sunday, the bars of my prison had tightened so much, I couldn’t see any alternative.

I needed to talk to Olin desperately.

I couldn’t bear the thought of never sharing a conversation or having her hand touch mine again. I’d always kept my emotions locked away—better to seem heartless than weak—but where Olin was concerned, I was pathetic.

I fought the urge to tear apart the neighbourhood looking for her.

I waited until dusk, sitting on her street like a homeless stray.

I watched the sun creep apologetically over the horizon, leaving me to a fate worse than any death combined.

Olin was avoiding me.

I couldn’t blame her.

She hated everything about me, and I was the only one to blame.

But...it was Sunday.

And Ms Tallup had backed me into an unwinnable corner.

No matter what I did...I was fucked.

Literally.

I could leave school, but that would mean leaving Olin. I could tell the headmaster, but that would mean risking who would be believed. I could tell Olin everything and run away with her, but that would mean her parents—no matter how absentee—would track us down and throw me in jail for kidnapping.

No matter what option I chose, there was always only one conclusion.

Me in prison.

Because of my teacher’s word against mine and the god-awful accusation of assault.

Assault?

She was the one assaulting me.

And I couldn’t tell anyone because who the hell would believe me?

Guys weren’t forcibly taken advantage of.

It was physically so much harder. But I’d felt violated in that storeroom. I’d felt hunted all weekend. And now, as I left Olin’s street and travelled stiffly toward the back entrance of Motel Gardenia, I felt denied of any and all my choices.

Ms Tallup was waiting for me, holding open the fire escape door and ushering me in the second I was in grabbing distance.

We didn’t speak as she clutched my wrist like a runaway schoolboy and dragged me up a level and down a long corridor. Slipping a keycard through a lock on a door, she tugged me inside and slammed it closed.

I exhaled hard as she slid the chain across and drew the curtains closed with a snap. The room already showed signs of use with an overnight bag on the small desk, a grey jacket thrown over the chair, and wrinkled white bed linen as if she’d lain there, picturing what she’d do to me.

The room was gloomy, even with three lights around the space. The carpet was brown, the furniture brown. It reeked of bad decisions and hard situations.

Ms Tallup ran a finger along my back as she bypassed me. She laughed as I leapt out of her way.

“Always so jumpy.” She headed to her bag, rummaging inside. Pulling out handcuffs, ropes, a bottle of lube, and a gag, she turned to me with a grin. “I’m proud of you, Mr. Clark. You came. You chose the right option. And, because of that, I’m assuming you will continue to choose wisely.” Waggling the bondage toys, she added, “These are if you don’t behave. I will have no qualms using them. In fact, it would turn me on to tie you down so perhaps we might play with these, after all.”

I cleared my throat as panic raced through my blood. “I’ll behave.” There was no way I wanted to be restrained. Already the desire to run almost overshadowed my need to protect Olin.

I was willing to run to the police and tell them what happened. I’d risk being charged with assault if it meant I never had to sleep with this psychopath.

But if I was in jail, how the hell would I ever love Olin? How could our future come true? How could she stay mine when I wasn’t there to care and cherish her?

She’ll become someone else’s.

My heart cracked, blood pouring from torn vessels.

Ms Tallup threw the bottle of lube at me. “I brought that, just in case. But honestly, I’m so wet, we won’t need it. Unless we decide to put something in you. Ever experimented with that area of your body, Gilbert?” She cackled. “It could be fun.”

I almost vomited on the carpet.

I threw the lube into the shadows of the room.

How the hell did she think I could do this? I couldn’t have sex with her because I was as soft as overcooked spaghetti. She repulsed me. No way would I get hard for her.

I lifted my head, slightly braver. Perhaps this wouldn’t happen. Maybe I could survive the attempt and then accept the ridicule of being a cockless teen who couldn’t get it up.

With a flick of her mousy brown hair, she headed toward the mini bar. With her back to me, she poured two shots of amber liquor, then carried both toward me. “Here.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t drink.”

I had a perfect role model in my father of why you should never drink.

I couldn’t stand the smell because it permeated the entire house I lived in. I couldn’t stomach the effects because it made me bleed on a regular basis.

“You don’t have sex either, but you’re about to.” She shoved the shot glass into my hand. “Drink it.”

My eyes narrowed as she clinked my glass with hers. “Here’s to a night of debauchery. You do know that word, don’t you? Don’t worry. If you don’t, you’ll be fully educated by the end of my lesson.” She winked and threw the alcohol down her throat.

My fingers squeezed the glass, wishing it would break so the liquid would splash onto the carpet. She stole the untouched shot from me, marched me backward to the bed with a hand on my chest, and pushed me when the back of my knees hit the mattress.

I sat down heavily, heart pounding, pulse throbbing as she walked into me, spreading my thighs and tipping my head up. “I said...drink.”

I didn’t have a choice as she tugged my chin and poured the liquor past my lips.

The burn disgusted me, and I grimaced, swallowing the obnoxious alcohol.

“Good boy.” She patted my cheek, then ducked to kiss me.

I jerked away, but she threw the shot glass to the floor, grabbed two handfuls of my hair, and held me captive while she planted a wet kiss on my mouth.

Everything inside me froze.

Her tongue shot past my lips, bringing another fresh hell of rum and misery.

I choked, shoving her backward and shooting off the bed.

She merely laughed, wiping her mouth with heat in her eyes. “My own little virgin to teach. Do you know how long I’ve thought about this? Standing in front of that class, reciting English and Math all while I watched you scribbling notes to a test, imagining you deep inside me.”

I shivered from ice and revulsion. “You’re sick.”

“And you’re going to be so much fun.” Holding my gaze, she unbuttoned her white shirt, making quick work of the buttons.

I dropped my eyes as she yanked off the material and stood in her lacy white bra.

“Don’t look away. Watch.”

Her command ordered my eyes up, and I gritted my teeth as she shimmied out of her skirt, undid her bra, and slipped her knickers off until she was bare before me.

No hair on any part of her.

Shaved and smooth.

I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the falseness. The fake innocence of such a thing.