Chapter 26 #2
My tolerance couldn’t be that pathetic.
Daphne had downed at least six, and she had been peppy as hell this morning.
Last night, I could’ve sworn I felt a touch in the middle of the night. I swatted at the air like I was batting away a mosquito before pulling back my new curtain—a gift from Daphne to replace the one Enzo had ruined.
I kept telling myself it was my imagination when a voice slithered through my mind and said, “Take down the Sons.” The nausea wrenched tighter when I heard, “Death to Fawns.”
It was like I had a chorus of demons chanting in my ears.
What had happened this morning did nothing to soothe my anxiousness.
When Daphne and I had walked to our classes, I’d heard the faint murmurs of classmates whispering about me.
They’d sneered, covering their mouths while talking shit.
Some of them had spoken a little too loud.
“I saw her with Enzo.”
“She was wearing his pajamas, coming from his wing.”
“Let’s hope she doesn’t push herself through a window.”
“Don’t let them bother you,” Daphne had told me while flipping them off.
I wished her I don’t give a fuck attitude was contagious and rubbed off on me.
Though, with every passing day here, I found myself speaking my mind more.
I felt a sense of peace and acceptance here.
Well, from some people. Not the whispering assholes.
From Daphne and the girls. Even from, dare I say, Enzo.
More than anywhere I’d lived, I felt the most comfortable here.
“Blair.”
My gaze snapped to the professor at the front of the lecture hall. She was reading a note in her hand while a red-haired woman in black scrubs stood beside her.
“Will you come with me, Blair?” the woman in scrubs asked.
I crammed my notebook and laptop into my bag and bounced down each step of the room’s rows, painfully aware of the stares coming from everyone.
The woman smiled when I reached her and motioned for me to follow her out of the lecture hall. She walked ahead of me without saying a word or checking if I was still behind her.
After swiping her badge to unlock a door, we stepped into what looked like a nurse’s office.
A polished marble desk with a granite top sat in the middle of the room, with two leather chairs neatly placed in front of it. Framed degrees lined the wall behind it. Three doors were shut along the opposite side.
“Hello, Blair.” She shut the door behind her. “I’m Dr. Everette. Saint Vale’s private physician.”
I nodded, giving her a polite smile.
She motioned for me to have a seat. My movements were slow as I did, and she sat behind the desk.
“First off, congrats on becoming a Fawn,” she said. “Only the strong women become Fawns.”
“You were one?” I asked.
She nodded.
My mind immediately went to who her Son had been and how he had treated her. Like Daphne had said, it seemed older Fawns saw becoming one as a great privilege.
Dr. Everette looked to be in her forties, but I had a feeling she was older, just someone who’d had work done that slowed down her physical aging. Whoever she’d gone to had done a good job. While she didn’t have a wrinkle in sight, she also didn’t have that plastic look.
Do all Fawns look good?
Is it like selling your soul to the Devil and you stay beautiful, youthful, and rich the rest of your life?
“Enzo said he told you I’d be coming to collect you.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a plastic cup. “I’m going to have you pee in this, and I’ll draw your blood.”
I rubbed my arms together. The few times I’d had to give blood, I’d nearly passed out. It always made me lightheaded.
“Don’t worry,” she said, as if reading my mind. “I’ll give you juice and crackers to make sure you feel comfortable the entire time.”
And without any further questions, I did just as a Fawn was supposed to. I obeyed Enzo’s orders.
After she finished, I played with the gauze wrapped around my arm. Then she handed me a packet of birth control and recited the instructions on how to take them.
“They take a while to kick in, but your Son should know to use a condom during the first month,” she said before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
She walked me out of the office, and I checked the time on my phone, seeing that an hour had passed since I’d left class. The class was already over.
I started moving in the direction of my next class, but spun on my heel and headed back upstairs, deciding to skip the rest of the day.
When I returned to my dorm, I dropped my bag on my bed and found a note waiting on my pillow.
I opened it, seeing a typed message.
Death to all Fawns!
DIE, FAWN! DIE!
Gasping, I pressed the note to my chest.
Did Enzo leave this?
The Sons enjoyed playing mind games with their Fawns.
Is this part of his game?
I dropped the note on my bed and dragged my phone from my bag. My shoulders slumped when there were no notifications from Enzo. I plopped down, chewing on my lower lip, before a wave of nausea sent me rushing to our mini fridge for a juice.
As I drank, I asked myself why I wanted to talk to Enzo.
There should’ve been some relief that he’d left me alone.
But instead, I felt empty inside.
As I racked my brain, sipping on my juice, it hit me.
I tapped his name—well, the ridiculous name he’d saved himself as—and texted him.
Me: Delete those videos you took!
Not only was that important, but it’d open up conversation for us.
My phone beeped seconds later.
The Man Who Owns Me: You miss me, huh? Cute.
Me: NO! I just remembered I needed to tell you that.
The Man Who Owns Me: You miss me, Blair. You miss my bossing you around.
Before I could answer, my phone vibrated with a mass of texts from him.
The Man Who Owns Me: You miss my cock inside you.
The Man Who Owns Me: You miss your lips around my cock.
The Man Who Owns Me: You miss my tongue in your tight pussy.
I shook my head as my cheeks warmed.
Me: No, I want you to delete those videos you took.
The Man Who Owns Me: Send me another, and I’ll delete those.
Fine. He wants to play that game.
I closed out of our text, took a video of myself flipping him off, and then sent it to him.
The Man Who Owns Me: Not good enough. Send me one with your fingers somewhere else.
The Man Who Owns Me: That somewhere had better be between your slick pussy lips.
The Man Who Owns Me: I’ll be waiting for that video. Until then, keep missing me, Fawn. Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.
I dropped my phone and sighed.
Why do I have an urge to send him a video of me touching myself?
To make him miss me while he’s gone to … wherever the hell he is.
I wanted him to think about me night and day, like I was about him.
And at that point, I decided not to mention the texts and note.
For now, I wanted to keep that to myself.
Wanted to pretend they weren’t real and that another person didn’t want to hurt me.
And if it was someone trying to taunt me, I knew they’d be another victim of Enzo’s. I didn’t want more blood on my hands.