Waking up, my body feels abused and used in the most satisfying of ways, and my thighs are so sore I can barely move them. I sit up and notice I’m naked. In bed. Warm, hot skin touches my side and my head whips in the direction of a man. Not just any man, but Benjamin.

I hold my head, the last thing I remember is me getting angry at the professor. Thinking about him makes hurt and fury resurface.

I sigh, whipping the covers off me. This wakes him.

“Harley?” he groans, half asleep.

“Good morning, Benjamin,” I say in a less than welcoming way. If he thinks I’m going back with him, he has another thing coming.

“Farrah,” he growls into the pillow. A puzzled expression wrinkles my face, curious how he knew it was me before he even lifted his head from the pillow.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Only you call me Benjamin,” he replies tiredly.

“What else would I call you?” I scoff.

“Harley calls me Benji. Only she can call me that too,” he clips. It’s statements like that, that make me think he cares for her more than me.

“Hmm, I’m going to be late,” I mumble, tucking my hair behind my ear.

“Farrah,” he says my name as if he’s angry. I turn, looking at him. He’s propped up on his elbows, his hard chest shirtless and covered in skull tattoos.

“What?” I snap, my hand on my hip. His face wrinkles in anger and he climbs off the bed. His morning wood swings freely. I take a step back, my body pressing against the wall behind me. I know this game, he’s going to fuck me against this wall, and I’ll be satisfied and Harley will come forward.

Well, not this time.

Glaring down at me, he fists my ass cheek. I wince, my butt feels bruised. I look down and notice red prints on my backside. Where the hell did those come from?

He breathes on my neck, and I feel myself opening up to him. No. I press my palms against his bare chest, pushing him back.

“I was wondering when you’d come to save your damsel in distress,” I sass, and his chest tenses beneath my palm. I struck a nerve.

“I like what you did to Harley’s hair,” he compliments. “The darkness suits—”

“My hair.” I correct him.

He sighs, turning around. I can’t help but look at his hard ass. You could bounce a quarter off that thing.

My eyes catch scratch marks down his back and I furrow my brows. I know we didn’t have sex, so who’d he fuck?

“You should have called me when you came to the light, Farrah,” he snaps, the playfulness in his voice gone. I’ve had sex with Benjamin a couple of times, but I was desperate for a man’s touch, paired with his refusal to let me sleep with anyone other than him. Otherwise, I’d have Viper wrapped around my finger.

“Why, so you and Harley can out me?” I sneer, grabbing a lilac dress from the closet. I’m surprised Harley didn’t burn these when she had the chance.

“Harley has never been to school, you guys shouldn’t be here,” he growls, his thick brows pulled inward with concern. He’s right, Harley and I never went to school, how could we with our condition. I have to say though, I’m loving it here. We really missed out on a lot of things.

“Relax, I’ve been here most of the time and I must say it hasn’t been all bad.” I wink. Just thinking about all the things the professor and I did sends a tingle in between my thighs.

“You have a … thing for the professor, don’t you?” he says with a jealous tone.

I look over my shoulder with a devilish smile.

“Aww, Benjamin are we jealous?” I tease.

“It’s not what Harley would want,” he says confidently. He knows her so well as if he doesn’t know me at all. It stings really, yet this game of defiance is so fun I can’t help but make him chase me. Maybe one day he’ll stop making Harley take those pills and I will be here permanently. We can run away together to a resort on a beach. Fuck all day and make love all night.

“Well, good thing I’m not Harley,” I reply, grabbing for the concealer to cover up the tattoos on my arms.

A hand suddenly grips my wrist, stopping me. The touch hard and firm.

“But aren’t you?”

My eyes slowly rise to his. He knows I hate it when he refers to me as Harley. I’m not her. She’s… biker trash, a hood rat thug, and I’m… classier than that. I have ambition.

“When exactly did you come about, Farrah?” he asks with a tilted head, his voice laced with tension. Him questioning my existence angers me.

I snatch my hand from his. Ever since he came along, he’s been trying to control me, make me his and I hate it.

“Why does it matter? I’m here, nothing you can do about that…” I purse my lips.

“Is it because of her mother?” He ignores my taunting. “That’s the only thing I don’t know about Harley is when it comes to her mom. She shuts down whenever I ask, or smiles and acts like everything was perfect growing up.”

I laugh so hard I double over. I’m suddenly slammed against the wall, and my laugh fades.

“I swear to God, if Harley wasn’t in there somewhere I’d kill you right here,” he seethes.

“Tell me something about Harley’s mother and now. I’m fucking sick of not getting answers and the way you just laughed… I can tell you know something,” he growls in my face, and my stomach knots, a cold sweat breaking down my spine. I’ve never seen Benjamin so angry before. Turning my head, I bite my bottom lip. Contemplating telling him anything about Harley’s mother, after all, her mother is why I was created.

A little girl abused and neglected so her mother could get her rocks off in the other room. Taunted and ridiculed because a six-year-old wasn’t doing tricks for money and helping pay rent.

Harley’s mother resented everything she was, and the only way that little girl could keep the innocence about her… was me.

He gives me a curt shake, jostling the breath from my lungs.

“Harley’s mother was anything but perfect,” I finally spill, my eyes meeting his. “She was a whore, but wanted Harley to be more of a girl and less like… her dad,” I breathe as if a weight had been released from my chest.

“That’s when you were made… to cope with her mother,” he mumbles under his breath. My heart beats faster that he put two and two together so quickly. “I can only imagine the shit that was done to her for you to be made.” He shakes his head, his eyes looking at me with annoyance.

“She doesn’t remember much of it, but what she does might have something to do with why she tries so hard to defy her feelings for you.” I shrug, just pulling shit from the air now.

Letting go of me, I rub my throat and stare at him with curious eyes.

“You need to take your meds,” he insists, snatching orange bottles off the desk beside the bed. Anger boils beneath the surface that he wants me out of here just when I got here.

Grabbing my backpack off the chair, I roll my eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”

“She’s going to kill him, you know. You’re wasting your time,” he informs bitterly. I stop, my fingers tickling the doorframe as I stare at a naked Shadow Keeper in my dorm room. “I’ll kill him,” he threatens, talking about the professor. “You may think you’re not mine, but think again.”

The vindication in his tone brings goosebumps racing along my skin.

“I have no doubt you two will kill him. That’s what you do,” I whisper, Harley and him have been partners in crime since I can remember.

I look over my shoulder just now putting two and two together that I was naked and sore between the thighs when I woke up, and Benjamin is still naked. Harley slept with him! She gave in. My eyes widen with realization, confusion rocking my brain. What does this mean?

My heart flutters in my chest, a dark relenting feeling filling my stomach. If Harley can love, will I still be around?

“Are you and Harley together?” I can’t help but ask.

A Cheshire Cat grin plasters across his face.

“Yeah, and now that she’s mine, I’m going to see to it that she’s taking her meds and gets better. You won’t be running the show at all,” he warns.

I bite my inner cheek until blood draws. Benjamin and Harley were made for each other, now it’s time for me to find my soulmate… before they kill him.

Jerking the door open, I saunter out with sadness and longing heavy in my chest. If Harley is coming to terms with her side of love, I may not be around much longer.

“Get back here, Farrah!” he demands, running out into the hallway naked. He holds his cock, looking at me like he wants to kill me. But he can’t because he’s naked and stuck in the hallway.

“You don’t get to dictate my life, Benjamin.”

Walking to class, the warm sun shines down on my bare shoulders causing my dress to stick to my sweaty thighs from the unbearable heat. It’s going to be a hot one today.

Keeping my head down, I silently wonder if Professor Prescott will be more open with me today. We didn’t leave on the best of terms yesterday. I wonder if he’s even alive.

“Farrah!”

My brows furrow from the female voice, did someone just say my name?

“Harley Vander!” That catches my attention, and I stop where I’m standing.

Turning I find June, the professor’s wife, trying to catch up to me in the mix of college students. She stands out like a sore thumb amongst college football shirts and beanies, in her white ruffled blouse, black slacks, and black high heels. Her hair is pinned up in an up-do making her look professional, but sultry at the same time. She has it all, no wonder Michael is holding on to her.

“Yes?” I ask with a smile.

“Do you have a minute?” She presses her hands together, her face awkward as if she’s afraid I’ll say no. Her face is flawless, not a zit or scar anywhere.

“For?”

“I just, I needed to ask you a few things and was hoping—”

“I’ll be late for class.” I point to professor’s class just over my shoulder. A few more feet and I can smell pencil shavings and permanent marker.

“It won’t be but a minute, promise?” She smiles politely. Her teeth so white they’re near blinding. Talking to her is growing tension in my shoulders, I mean she’s the wife of the man I was trying to sleep with after all. “Please?” Her begging is beneath her and piques my curiosity.

Sighing I nod. “Sure.”

I follow her across the yard to a tall stone building, once inside the air conditioning is on blast and my skin pebbles with goosebumps from the sweat trickling down my calves. My dress feels damp and my hair sticks to my flushed face.

June looks perfect though, not a drop of sweat on her. I furrow my brows noticing I’m jealous of her.

Her heels click amongst the marble flooring as we wind down a hallway with abstract paintings on the walls.

“This way,” she informs, opening the door.

Stepping inside her office, there’s a desk to the left with a computer and small bonsai tree. A purple chair is sitting across from the desk, and a side table holds a box of sand with a rake. It smells of sandalwood in here too, or is that lavender? Either way, it’s very relaxing.

“Have a seat,” she gestures to the purple chair.

“I’ll stand,” I retort nicely. I don’t feel comfortable in here or with her. I doubt anything she has to say will be good.

There’s a bunch of bookshelves behind the purple chair and I take it upon myself to look at them.

“I’ll just cut to the chase, then. Are you sleeping with my husband?” she blurts. I smile wolfishly, my fingers tickling the spines of thick doctor books. Nothing I would ever read, I’m more of a horror fan myself.

“Does that bother you?” I question, it’s a stupid question really. Does that bother you? Of course, it would.

“Oh, please, honey, if you think you’re the only hussy I’ve had to chase off, then you’re dumber than I thought,” she laughs, and my spine stiffens hearing I’m not special. I knew I wasn’t but to hear her say it… it’s nails on a chalkboard. I turn, glaring at her. “I’m just curious how bad it is this time. Does he have you in an expensive apartment somewhere?” She sizes me up and I feel like I’m suddenly naked in front of her. “I don’t see any expensive rings on your fingers, promising you he’ll leave me, so that’s a plus sign.” Her eyes settle on mine, blue dominating eyes tearing me apart. “It can’t be that serious then, huh?”

I sit in the chair, my heart beating so fast I feel sick. If the girl in the painted overalls wasn’t a hint that her husband sleeps around, this is.

“So he does this often?” How can she be with a man that does this over and over to her? The idea I’m just another plaything to him, another notch on his belt if I were to sleep with him hits me in all the wrong places, so how can she be so okay with it? Does she sleep around too?

Either way, Professor Michael Prescott is a dirtbag. He broke my heart and will pay the price.

“Yes, and no matter what he says… he’s never left me. For anyone.” She tilts her head to the side, looking at me with sympathy. I don’t like the way she’s looking at me as if I’m beneath her.

My eyes sting, threatening with tears to rush down my face.

“I’m so stupid!” I grit through clenched teeth, anger rattles my chest. I fell hook line and sinker for a tool.

“By the way, I tried to pull up your file in the school database, and there’s nothing on you except a name, Harley Vander. Why is that? And why do you choose to go by Farrah?” She clicks on her computer with a confused look, but I ignore her. All I can think about is that scum bag professor cheating on his wife with tons of college girls. Holding girls up in expensive apartments, giving them fine diamonds with empty promises. Why didn’t he do this for me?

I’m so upset, so angry I can feel Harley cussing inside my head. There’s no confining her I’m so emotional this time, and to be honest. I don’t want to. I want her to fuck this place up.

I want her to hurt the professor like he’s done me.