If I’mtheirs, then aren’t they alsomine?
Ford answers the question without me asking it, seemingly reading my damn mind.
“You belong to us, Ava baby,” he says, licking his upper teeth. “Not the other way around."
The swagger in his step as he turns and leaves twists the knife even deeper. I’m left standing in the hallway, trying to piece together what the hell just happened and why I reactedthe way I did. I glare after him, feeling stupid and small and so unbelievably naïve.
By the time I gather myself enough to proceed to Professor Turner’s office and knock on the door, I’m seriously considering just bolting. If all the students on campus know what this necklace means, then surely she does, too. How stupid am I gonna look, waltzing into her office being owned by the Kings when it’s so painfully obvious that she just hooked up with one of them?
Or maybe she’s another victim. It occurs to me that Ford could’ve coerced her into performing sexual favors, just like he’s done to me. We could be kindred spirits, both unwittingly fallen prey to the Kings.
Turner’s voice calls for me to come in, and my fingers twitch around the textbooks I’m gripping, aching to nervously smooth my skirt or tuck my hair. I push the door open and step into an obscenely cluttered office, my young, beautiful professor sitting behind a desk in the middle of the mayhem.
“Can I help you?” she asks, far too chipper for an unwilling victim.
So, it was mutual, then. Her and Ford. The two of them…
I shake my head to dispel the torrent of destructive thoughts, quickly schooling my expression. “I… I’m Ava Morrow,” I manage, my voice coming out more wobbly than I’d like. “I’m in your English Lit class.” I fumble through the stack of books in my hands for the assignment tucked in the front of one of them– the one that seemed so important a few minutes ago, but is now the furthest thing from my mind.
“Of course, Ava!” Turner smiles, gesturing to the chair on the opposite side of her desk. “Please, take a seat. What can I do for you?”
I move to sit, my books slipping from my grip and hitting the floor. Words tangle in my throat, as I stoop to pick them up, mythoughts spinning too fast to catch hold of. I don’t even know why I’m here anymore. I don’t know why I care.
Turner patiently waits for me to collect my belongings, watching me with an expectant smile as my posture stiffens in the chair across from her. Her office feels too warm, too cluttered, too much. I force myself to speak, but everything sounds hollow and far away, like someone else is talking. My head’s still reeling, but she’s nodding along like this is just another meeting, like I’m just another student.
The assignment that seemed so urgent now feels trivial, but I stumble through my questions nonetheless, hoping I make enough sense that she doesn’t catch on to how shattered I am inside.
She scribbles a few book titles on a piece of paper, handing it to me with an encouraging nod. I take it, not sure what to even do with it, not sure what any of this means anymore.
“Just let me know if you need anything else,” Turner chirps as I get up to leave, her voice bright and unbothered.
I leave the office in a daze, Ford’s words echoing louder than anything my professor said in that meeting.
You belong to us, not the other way around.
My feet carry me back outside, the chill in the air nipping at my exposed knees beneath my skirt. The crowd on campus has thinned out, but I barely notice as I numbly start in what I hope is the direction of the dorms.
But I’m more lost than ever, and I don’t even know how to find myself again.
CHAPTER 35
FORD
I wanta cigarette right now more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, and I’m pretty sure Wes swiped them just to fuck with me.
“Thought you quit,” he remarks without even looking up from his phone as I rifle through the junk that’s collected on the side table next to the recliner, tossing an old lighter and a crushed Red Bull can to the floor.
“Changed my mind,” I growl, fingers finally closing around a crumpled pack with a lone cigarette inside.
“Those’ll kill you, you know.”
I fight the urge to chuck something at Wes’ perfectly styled blonde head. “We’re all gonna die sometime,” I mutter. “May as well have a little fun along the way, right?”
He looks up with a sigh, probably pissed that all my rustling is distracting him from whatever’s so damn important on his phone. Coordinating plans for the upcoming Halloween party, probably. “So, what’s got you smoking again?” he asks absently.
“Besides the fact that my dick’s broken?” I snort.
He raises an eyebrow, suddenly a whole lot more interested. “Broken?”
