Chapter 66
Camila POV
His smirk widened as he took a slow, measured step inside, the door creaking further open.
“Relax,” he drawled, voice slurred, thick with liquor. “Just came to talk.”
A sour wave of whiskey, beer, and bad decisions rolled off him, hitting me square in the face. My nose wrinkling in disgust.
“Get. Out.” My voice was sharp, edged with warning. My entire body coiled, every muscle tensed.
He ignored it.
He took another slow step forward, his movements too easy, like he truly thought I wasn’t a threat.
Like he thought he had the upper hand.
A flicker of amusement danced in his glassy eyes.
I saw it.
And I hated it.
“I don’t bite,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “You don’t gotta look so scared.”
Scared?
Oh, I wasn’t scared.
I was furious.
Before I could snap back, he lifted his hands and reached towards me.
His fingers brushing my face.
The rough heat of his palm skimmed my cheekbone, and he leaned forward-
I jerked my head away, fast and sharp.
But not fast enough.
His lips- wet, burning with the stench of alcohol- landed against my cheek instead of my mouth.
A disgusting, misplaced kiss.
The humid press of his breath against my skin made my stomach flipped in revulsion.
That was it.
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I didn’t think.
I didn’t hesitate.
I snapped.
My knee shot up- hard, fast, and brutal, slamming into his groin with bone–crushing precision.
A sickening thud echoed through the room as the Impact landed.
A choked noise burst from his throat as his entire body seized, breath choking in his throat, eyes bulging like he had just been electrocuted. Then-
A ragged, strangled gasp tore from his lips, his knees buckling as pure, undiluted agony ripped through him as his hands immediately flying to his crotch, his smirk shattering into a grimace as he stumbled back, his glass sloshing over his fingers.
For half a second, I just watched him suffer.
And then-
I shoved him.
Hard.
He staggered, hitting the doorframe with a thud, his breath coming in wheezing, pained gasps.
“Get the fuck out of my room,” I hissed, my voice shaking with rage.
He barely had time to blink before I shoved him again, my palms burning from the force of it.
He tripped back into the hallway, still clutching himself.
I didn’t give him a second longer.
I grabbed the door-
And slammed it shut with a vicious bang.
I pressed my back against it, chest heaving, heart hammering so hard it felt like it might burst out of my ribcage.
Then, moving purely on adrenaline, I grabbed my desk chair and jammed it under the handle, wedging it tight,
My hands were shaking.
I took a step back.
Silence.
Then a muffled, breathless curse from the other side of the door.
I swallowed. My mouth felt dry as hell.
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I rubbed at my cheek, scrubbing away the lingering, unwanted feel of his lips.
It didn’t help.
I could still feel it.
My stomach twisted, a heavy, nauseating weight settling in my gut.
Fucking bastard.
I didn’t move from that spot for a long time.
I just stood there, staring at the door, listening.
Waiting.
Eventually, his footsteps faded down the hall.
I let out a slow, shaky breath, forcing my pulse to calm.
But sleep?
Yeah.
That wasn’t happening tonight.
Every step back toward my bed was unsteady, my body still thrumming with leftover adrenaline. My fingers trembled
slightly as I dragged them through my hair, tugging at the strands just to feel something solid, real.
My stomach was knotted, the nausea curling deep, making my ribs feel too tight.
I dropped onto the edge of my bed with a soft thump, my body sinking into the mattress as I let out a slow, shaky
breath.
It didn’t help.
I was still too wired, my nerves too raw.
I clenched my jaw, my fingers curling into the blanket beneath me. I needed to calm the fuck down. I was safe now.
The door was locked, the chair was wedged tight under the handle.
Something felt… off.
I inhaled, forcing my lungs to expand, trying to push out the lingering tightness in my chest. My ears strained, listening for anything. Any sound.
Nothing.
Just the faint hum of the house settling.
I swallowed, rubbing at my temples, trying to shake the ghost of his touch from my skin.
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And then-
A prickling sensation crawled up my spine.
Like the air had shifted.
Like something was… watching me.
The hairs on my arms rose, goosebumps blooming along my skin.
I stilled.
My fingers tightened their grip on the blanket as I snapped my head toward the window.
Nothing.
Just darkness pressing against the glass, the faint glow of the streetlamp outside spilling across the room in long,
slanted beams.
I stared, my breath caught somewhere in my throat.
The sensation didn’t go away.
If anything, it got worse.
I could feel it- heavy, lingering. That thick, suffocating weight of being observed.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to move. I shifted forward slightly, squinting at the window like maybe, if I just focused hard enough, I’d see something in the shadows outside.
The night pressed back, dark and silent.
Nothing moved.
I wasn’t woken up by the blaring noise of my alarm.
Nope.
Instead, it was Anya’s voice- loud, shrill, and absolutely unnecessary for this ungodly hour.
I groaned, rolling over and pulling my blanket over my head. It’s the weekend. She could take whatever drama she had brewing somewhere else,
“Camila!” she shouted again.
I squeezed my eyes shut, pretending I was still asleep. Maybe she would give up.
“Camila, open the damn door!”
Or not.
I felt the doorknob jiggle, followed by a thud.
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“The fuck?” Anya muttered.
Right. The barricade.
I smirked sleepily.
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