JACQUELINEHe was a man, this stranger I'd just ran straight into. He was dressed like every normal man, in a flannel shirt and faded jeans. His hair was brown and cut short, his eyes matched the colour of his hair—a dull brown. But murderers and rapists all looked normal, until they found a helpless woman to prey on. The moment our eyes met, I turned on my heel and bolted.I should’ve known something was off the second I heard that howl echoing through the trees like some paranormal shit. I’d driven here to find solace, but it'll seem all I'd found was trouble. Sweat slicked my palms and my heart threatened to rip through my chest. I got up and ran. “Wait!” a voice called out, low and urgent. “Stop!”Fear poured through me hotter than July. I stumbled, nearly tripped, and then found a clearing, a tiny patch of open sky where I’d parked. Relief slammed into me. I burst through the trees, skidded across the grass, and dove into my car.I slammed the door, locked it, and shoved the
EZRAThe chair was still empty five minutes after the class had begun. I stared at it longer than I meant to, my chalk hovering just above the whiteboard. Jacqueline Blackwell’s absence shouldn’t have mattered. Students skipped class all the time, especially ones who were already failing. But that didn’t explain the uncomfortable weight in my chest. Or the clenching in my jaw.She was supposed to be here. Jacqueline. I turned away from the empty seat and addressed the rest of the class, ignoring the restless shifting of their bodies and the open boredom on some of their faces. Humans were so easily distracted. Their attention spans are weaker than I remembered.“Can anyone walk me through the primary frameworks of literary nihilism?” I asked flatly.A hand rose hesitantly.I let the student answer, barely listening, nodding when they finished. “Right. That’ll do.”I turned back to the board and resumed writing, but my strokes were sharper, less controlled. Why hadn’t she come? Was s
JACQUELINEI didn't get out of bed the next morning. Not after last night. Not after what happened in my own living room, against my own wall—with my professor, Mr Philips.I had woken up feeling raw, restless, like my skin didn’t quite fit anymore. My alarm blared at eight, but I’d silenced it with a shaky hand and rolled onto my side, staring at the cracks on the wall instead. My heart beat fast and slow all at once, my body tense like it was waiting for something.Every time I blinked, I saw him—Mr. Philips. His gray eyes. His commanding voice. The weight of his hands on my hips. The low growl in his throat as he told me I needed to learn.When a knock sounded on my door, I struggled to get my head off my pillow. Good morning, honey. I heard my mom's voice. “Mom.” I muttered. “What time did you come back?She stepped fully into the room, looking tired as usual. “I got in just now. How did last night go?” She asked, and for some reason, I blushed a bright red at the question. “L
JACQUELINEWhat the fuck just happened?I stood in the living room, heart pounding like a war drum, my breath shaky and uneven. The door had clicked shut behind Mr. Philips, and yet the tension he left behind hung in the air, thick and electric.My ass was stinging. Actually stinging.The kind of pain that wasn’t just pain—it was something else. My skin tingled as if it wasn’t mine, and heat had started to pool low in my stomach, threading down between my legs with every breath I took. I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to ground myself, but all I could feel was the wild rhythm of my heart, the tremble of my limbs.What had I gotten myself into?I had kissed a stranger at my ex’s birthday party. That’s where it started, right? A bold, careless, wild decision. A kiss that was supposed to mean nothing. I’d kissed him to get back at Sammy, not knowing he would walk into my lecture hall the very next week as my professor.And now… now he had spanked me in my own home and left me standin
EZRA As soon as Juliet walked out the door, I dropped the fork and leaned back, tired of pretending that I liked human food. “I knew it!” Jacqueline said as her sharp blue eyes met mine. “I knew you didn't like the meal. You just like to pretend around my mother.”“And you have a funny way of showing your mom that you appreciate all her hard work.”Anger clouded her features. “What do you mean?” “How are you preparing for the preliminary assessment on Monday?” She looked quickly away. “That's none of your business.”“That's a really dumb thing to say, Jacqueline. Your performance in my class is every bit my business. But your academics do not look like they mean serious business to you.”“My academics are fucking serious business to me.” She said, eyes glaring into mine. In two seconds, I was out of my chair and had her front pressed against the wall, my hands on her nape.I tilted my head until I met her eyes—wide with fear, and I got a strong sense of déjà vu. And then, the mem
JACQUELINEThis was literally the worst day of my life. First, my mom randomly invited Mr. Phillips to dinner.Now, I was embarrassed in front of him, forced to dress up. I wouldn't have had to dress up if she didn't invite him over. But I grudgingly did as Mom said... Because I'd seen the way Mr. Phillip's eyes had crawled over my body, lingering on my chest…I quickly wore a bra and tee and slid one of my old leggings on. I ruffled out my hair and touched up my face. As I made my way downstairs again, I wondered why I was trying so hard to impress Mr. Philips. I didn't even like him!I went downstairs to find them waiting for me, without actually eating. Mom gave me a quick once-over and nodded approvingly.“Great, now we can have dinner.” She said.I slid into my usual spot at the table, eyes flicking from my mom’s warm smile to Mr. Philips' impassive face. He hadn’t touched anything in front of him. Just sat there, stiff-backed, like a marble sculpture brought to life.Mom served