condemned us both to hell.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Trinity
I should be in the laundry room doing chores, but with four days left till the end of term, I doubt anyone’s going to lay down the law on a rainy Monday afternoon.
So instead I’m in my room, considering sneaking into the shower room.
I feel dirty after what Zachary did to me.
How he made me feel.
And while there’s nothing I can do about my filthy mind, the least I can do is wash the feel of him off my body.
After what happened yesterday with Cass in the shower, though…
That delicious tightness and tingling had stayed with me for close to an hour, maybe a little more.
Today? It’s been three hours since Zachary touched me, and I can still feel him stroking me through my underwear.
None of it makes sense, of course. I should be horrified—disgusted even—by what he did.
Scaring me like that.
Forcing himself on me.
I thought my heart had been beating with panic…but now I’m wondering if it hadn’t been excitement instead.
Maybe if your life is as boring as mine, anything is exciting.
It’s seriously messed up to think that my body is capable of confusing fear with lust, or pain with pleasure.
God, when did I turn into such a sexual deviant?
I realize I’m stroking my hip bone through my dress and hurriedly snatch away my hand.
Not going to happen, Trinity.
I wouldn’t be able to bear the guilt. The shame.
Don’t let such silly things plague you.
Gah, I knew it!
My mind keeps going back to Gabriel or Zachary.
Gabriel feels the need to answer my questions. About how my father was gay, or the fact that he cheated on my mom?
The Brotherhood will hurt me in the worst way if I don’t find the data they’re looking for. I may have bought myself some time today with Zachary, but how much?
There was an announcement about the end of term in prayer today, Jasper told me. The buses are arriving on Thursday morning to take everyone through to Sisters of Mercy.
Can I hide from both sides of this war until then?
I grab my pillow and shove it over my head, muffling a frustrated yell.
“Need a hand?” Jasper asks from the doorway. “I’d be more than happy to oblige.”
I whip away the pillow and glare at him. “Fuck off,” I snap.
He pushes away from the door with his shoulder. “Geez, what’s got your panties in a bunch?”
“Nothing.” I watch as he rummages in his side of the closet and pulls out casual clothes. “Hot date?”
Maybe he’s meeting Perry. I can only hope he won’t go down to the library again.
“Gross,” Jasper says.
“Why gross?”
“Because I’m going to see Father Gabriel, you sicko.”
“How was I supposed to know?” I call after him as he exits our room.
I shrug my shoulders into the mattress, wincing when one of the many lumps dig into my back. Why is he going to see Gabriel? Maybe he’s going to confess about liking Perry. About the things they did.
Great. Now I’m reliving that saucy interlude in my head.
Is this what being horny feels like?
Maybe it’s hormones or something. My cycle’s due to start any day now…I always get a little cranky before. Except this time I’m craving Reuben’s pecs, Cass’s mouth, and Zachary’s fingers, not pepperoni pizza.
Oh, Lord. I’m still hot and bothered. I throw my arm over my eyes, letting out a huff of annoyance.
For fuck’s sake.
The worst part is, I know exactly what will help. But ever since Mom made me confess, it’s been impossible for me to get myself off. Soon I was pushing away the urge the moment it arrived.
Not what I’d consider healthy, but there you go.
I’m rubbing my hip bone again.
Damn it.
I jump up and go close the door, peeking out into the hallway first to make sure there’s no one around.
What I wouldn’t do for a lock on this door.
I plop back on the bed and skim my fingers over my dress until I’m hovering an inch or so above my clit.
Then I wait for the shame to drive me back like it always does.
Except…it doesn’t.
My fingers creep closer. My core constricts in anticipation the closer I get to my clit, as if more and more nerve endings spark into action.
I make a soft noise in the back of my throat when I finally touch myself through the thick fabric. It’s so subtle, I can barely feel the pressure, but fuck it if anticipation isn’t eighty-percent of the thrill.
Quickly I lift my knees, letting my dress slip down my thighs