Nikolas

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I haven't left the bed for a few hours.

Summer thinks I'm sick due to the text I sent her to get out of going to church and my mom and Jonas doesn't bother to check in on me. Not that I wanted them too. I was sure that Jonas was pissed since I wasn't attending church, keeping the 'perfect family' picture going, so I prepared myself of what's to come tonight.

I just couldn't get him out of my mind. And I couldn't risk having a dirty thoughts while praying or picturing the way his cock felt in my mouth when confessing my sins. I could still feel his calloused hands on my skin, trailing them all over my body, bringing me pleasure that I'd never felt before in my life. It only reminded me of that night at church. It wasn't a mistake, contrasting to what I said, I didn't consider that a mistake.

I needed it.

I desperately craved it.

God, I was such a slut for him.

I didn't think I could even handle a guy coming near me after having to deal with Jonas and his perverted plans but Nikolas made every rational thought fly right out of my head.

And Jesus, he made me horny.

I would never admit that to him.

I jump when the shrill ring of my phone pulls me out of my deep sexual thoughts.

Grabbing it off my nightstand, I frown when I see the familiar number.

A few days after I had arrived at Jonas' house, he had told me that I would need to go to therapy. I had 'been through much' to be normal, so it would be good for me to speak with an expert about my past.

It was all bullshit that I turned down.

I didn't need to be 'fixed' yet he still gave a therapist my number and she called me once every few days. It was getting in my nerves. There was no bad past I needed to heal from. I didn't have a bad childhood, and the only thing I needed healing from was him. It was frustrating to see him act all innocent in front of my mother, not that she would care if she saw him hurt me, anyway. She was so smitten with him, I wondered if this was why people said that love makes you blind.

I didn't think she was capable of that emotion, especially towards this monster, and it broke my heart that she didn't give Summer and I even a fraction of everything she gave to Jonas.

I had promised myself that I wouldn't think about her anymore, but sometimes, when I'm left alone with my thoughts at night, all I could see is her. All I could see was how much she had changed. All I could dream of was a world where she actually cared about me. No matter how much I told myself that this was about Summer, and about how she needed motherly love, I knew deep down I was the only one craving it like oxygen. Summer and my mother were on good terms, going out to shop together every week, giggling about the guys in Summer's class after dinner, cuddling on the couch watching rom-coms together.

But why wasn't she like that to me.

Life in this house was lonely, my mother didn't bother check on me. Or even talk to me. She only did when she wanted to comment that I had gained or lost too much weight, or about my acne and grown out roots.

Sometimes my delusional brain would translate those words into her caring about me, and I'd feel all happy that she talked to me.

I was so damn pathetic.

The only people who needed therapy was my mother and Jonas. They needed to learn how to be human.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, I pick up the phone, getting ready to let this lady know that I wanted her to fuck off and never call this number again.