Chapter 0143

Jerome and I come back a few hours later after an afternoon of light chat. We kept it easy, neither of us wanting to address the

elephant between us. Instead, we talk mostly about horses. When we enter the house we're too busy laughing, the dregs of our

milkshakes still in our hands, to notice Kent standing in the hallway staring at us.

Jerome notices first, stopping in his tracks and clearing his throat, the smile dropping from his face. Kent says nothing, just

slowly puts his hands in his pockets and shifts his weight to his back foot, giving us both a long stare.

Something about it — I don’t know what, maybe the arrogance in his stance, or the way that he stopped us both in our tracks just

by standing there — makes me roll my eyes. Despite everything — all of the trauma of the afternoon, and the crazy intimidation I

felt on the third floor last night — Kent’s macho bullshit still makes me want to push back.

“My dad wasn't in the mood to feed me,” I report calmly, “so Jerome took me to get cheeseburgers and milkshakes. You want

some?” Innocently, I hold my milkshake out to him, straw first.

Kent's eyes flick to the milkshake and then back up to my face. “No, Fay,” he responds, his voice low. Then he nods to Jerome,

dismissing him. Jerome is gone before I can even see him move.

“Your father called me,” Kent says, prowling close enough to touch. I refuse to move an inch. “He says you were...disrespectful.”

Slowly, he raises a hand to my face, his thumb brushing over the red mark that lingered after my father slapped me. I flinch. Kent

drops his hand.

“Why do I get the feeling that you're giving me the PG version of what he actually said?” I reply, my voice low.

“Because,” Kent replies, still standing close to me. “I didn’t think you'd like it very much if I told you that he called you a

conceited, spoiled, ungrateful whore.”

I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips as I look up into Kent’s face. But I am surprised to see Kent give me one in return. My

stomach turns over at the sight of this, at the discovery that I’ve...pleased him. And that I quite liked doing it.

Suddenly, I want to please him again.

But then, just as suddenly, I am hit with flashes of the memories of last night — of how frightened I was when he moved his hand

low on my body, touching places no one has touched before. And I flinch away, knowing — deep down — that I’m...I’m just not

ready for it. Not now.

“Fay,” Kent says, his voice oddly choked as I take a step back from him, looking at the floor.

“Um,” I say, buying time as I step to the side and work to move past him. “I’m just going to go upstairs —*

“Fay,” Kent says again, insistent, placing a hand on my waist in a plea to stop. I hesitate at his gentle hand and look up at him.

“Please,” he says, his eyes uncharacteristically wide. “Let me make it up to you...”

“Um,” I reply, hesitating again

because I don’t really know

means. ake whanugrsrne® The

HoMribte lunch he forced me to go to?

The embarrassment of Daniel finding

out? Please read the original content

at .

But in my heart, I know precisely what he wants to make up for.

I'm just not sure I’m ready to hear it.

So, I push past him, a little surprised

when he lets me go, hi hang ON)

fl lightly dcrSss my stomach

as‘ pull away and move towards the

stairs. Please read the original

content at .

“Fay,” Kent calls after me when I’m

halfway up the steps, his voice

scolding. I look down at him 9d I

ths Kent Taow Vids returned, his

hands in his pockets, his gaze

perfectly controlled. “Don't forget that

we have a contract. And I intend to

collect.” Please read the original

content at .