Lessons in Sin - Pam Godwin Page 0,44

Surrounded by the privacy of trees, I let my hand wander to my backside. The touch stung, making me hiss.

Twisting at the waist, I hiked up the skirt and inspected the damage. For as brutally as he’d whipped me, I’d expected lacerations and blood. But I didn’t see an open cut. No broken skin. No bleeding.

He’d welted me. Reddened my skin. It would hurt like a bitch to sit, but the marks would fade within a week.

He knew what he was doing. He knew, and he’d tried to protect me from it. From him.

His mastery with a strap hadn’t been learned with students at Sion Academy. No, he’d done this before. Like before before.

High school students didn’t arouse him. Inflicting pain did. I had a sneaking suspicion that rough sex was very much a part of his past and shaped the mystery that he was today.

I was captivated, enthralled, turned on like I’d never been before. But seducing him was no longer an option. I didn’t ever want to see that pained, guilt-ridden look on his face again.

I needed another plan because, dammit, I wasn’t going to marry the family of my mother’s choosing. Maybe I wouldn’t get married at all.

My mother had groomed Keaton the same way, pushing him into a relationship with Clara Blair. A Blair and Constantine marriage would’ve made my powerful mother all the more powerful. But Keaton had put a stop to that.

If he could do it, maybe I could, too. It gave me hope.

The evening was warm for November in Maine. I pulled my cardigan around me and curled up on the ground to wait for Jaden and Willow to return. It took me a long time to find a comfortable position without aggravating my welts.

Each flaring bite of pain made me think of him. And smile.

I rested my head on my folded arms, and within minutes, I fell asleep.

The sky rumbled, jolting me awake. Wind gusted through trees, cooling the air and spitting droplets of rain. The approaching storm had darkened the sky, but so had the late hour. It was past curfew.

It wasn’t the first time I’d fallen asleep out here and missed check-in. Oh, well.

I looked around for Jaden and Willow and felt a deep ache of disappointment. They hadn’t returned. What if they’d left for good? Without a goodbye? I couldn’t bear it.

On the way back to the residence hall, I winced through each step and resisted the urge to rub my butt. At the top of the stairs to my dorm, Daisy was waiting.

“I’m going to report you this time.” She crossed her arms, blocking my path.

“Good for you.” I shouldered past her.

“This is your last strike. He’ll suspend you this time.”

“Don’t care.”

A suspension would send me home for a few days. I would have to deal with the wrath of my mother, but it would be worth it just to see my siblings, sleep in my own bed, and spend the morning somewhere that wasn’t church.

But I wouldn’t get a suspension. Magnus was onto me and would never give me what I wanted.

I slipped into my dorm, and my attention instantly went to the shoebox on my bed. “Who’s been in my room?”

“No one,” Daisy shouted from her room.

This box didn’t magically appear on its own. I approached it cautiously, marking the worn edges and faded labels. It was an old box. Probably not a gift.

I set my phone on the desk and bent down, flipping off the lid.

For a moment, I didn’t understand. My brain took snapshots, trying to piece the images together. Gray, crust, wet, toes, blood, pink tails, Mickey Mouse ears.

My chest burned.

Opossums.

Mangled.

My heart raced.

Jaden and Willow.

Dead.

My throat caught fire.

“No.” I stumbled. Couldn’t feel my feet. “No, no, no, no!”

That couldn’t be them. It couldn’t. Why would anyone do that? Why were they in a box? Why were they here?

A scream rose from my chest and hit the air with all the mortal terror in my body.

“Who did this?” I screamed until my voice bled, and I started hyperventilating. “Who…fucking…did this?”

I grabbed the box and stormed into the hallway. Heads poked out of doorways, their faces smeary and distorted through my tears.

“You’re waking the entire floor,” Daisy whisper-shouted behind me. “Go back to your room.”

“Fuck you.” I shrieked and swung a finger toward all the girls in the hall. “Whoever did this…swear to God, I will find you. You’re so fucking dead.”

I hated their eyes on me. I hated their lack of sorrow and compassion.