Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/14054847. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: F/M Fandom: Hemlock_Grove Relationship: Roman_Godfrey/Reader, Roman_Godfrey/Original_Female_Character(s), Letha Godfrey/Peter_Rumancek Character: Roman_Godfrey, Original_Female_Character(s), Reader, Olivia_Godfrey, Shelley_Godfrey_(Hemlock_Grove), Peter_Rumancek, Letha_Godfrey, Norman Godfrey Additional Tags: Obsession, Possessive_Behavior, Stalking, Childhood_Friends, Master/ Servant, Blood_Drinking, Blood_Kink, Purity, Hurt, Murder, Childhood Memories, Dark, Memory_Alteration, Mind_Control, Reader-Insert, POV_Third Person, Biting, Childhood_Trauma, Bullying, Jealousy, Slight_Cannon divergence, Drugs, Alcohol Stats: Published: 2018-03-22 Updated: 2018-03-24 Chapters: 3/? Words: 5523 ****** Part-Time Past Time ****** by MissMechanicalHeart Summary Reader has always been a servant of the Godfreys. When she begins to distant herself from Roman, he becomes rather controlling. Note: Please note the tags before reading; they will be updated when necessary. ***** Same Damn Hunger ***** The Godfreys were… strange.  That’s what everyone said.  Of course, no one would outright confess their opinion, for the Godfreys were—as the name implied—gods that walked amongst the occupants of Hemlock Grove.  And, how they worshiped them! “You’re so lucky to work for the Godfreys, _____!”  “I wish I were in your shoes!”  “What’s it like working for THE Roman Godfrey?”             She had heard the statements for the majority of her life, and she had never understood the excitement.  Picture-perfect families envied the Godfreys for their money, but she thought it ironic since she knew Olivia Godfrey (who might as well be regarded as the queen) strove for that very same picture-perfect-family image.  She knew perfectly well what happened behind closed doors, and it was for that reason that she didn’t follow the crowd.  Regardless, she kept their secrets, for it wasn’t her business, and she wasn’t the attention-seeking type.  Not to mention, ____ had the joy of being born into a line that had been subservient to the Godfreys for years.  Since her mother and father had passed, she was now the sole survivor.  So, as she heard a variation of one of the statements, she simply smiled, nodded, and then walked off.  Due to the encounter, her short, allotted time for the library had run up; consequently, she had to abandon her search for a book in order to start on her afternoon chores.  Today, one of those chores was grocery shopping, which was five chores in itself since Olivia was strict on brands and certain types of produce. Due to Olivia’s tastes, _____ had to visit every single supermarket in Hemlock Grove, plus the local farmer’s market.  So, by the time she was finished, she was booking it to make it back to the Godfrey mansion before Olivia did.  So much for getting a head start, she thought, rounding a corner to take a short-cut.  The bitter thought was punctuated and accompanied by dread as she came face to face with a cherry-red Jag.  Not to mention, its occupants were quite busy, and _______  received an unwanted eye-full.  Thankfully, it was over soon enough, and the female exited, fixing her skirt with one hand while the other held a wad of cash.  Her eyes followed the brunette for a moment before returning to the inhabitant of the Jag.  Full lips wrapped around a long thumb as green eyes scanned the space before him with a gaze that could only be described as predatory.  Roman Godfrey, the Prince of Hemlock Grove. His face was the personified image of a Roman sculpture.  Due to those looks and his vintage car, he was no stranger to blowing more than just money.  Half of Hemlock Grove High was convinced that the teen could walk on water.  Hell, he practically made panties disappear with just a flick of his cat-eye-colored eyes and a twitch of those pouty lips.  Just as the thought floated about in her mind, those very green orbs darted in her direction, and she was ensnared.  His gaze narrowed on her as that pink tongue danced across the pad of his thumb, licking the last of the unknown substance away.  Helplessly, she watched the action, but it wasn’t from starry-eyed feelings that the others experienced; no, as always, it was mere curiosity.  The pull she felt was similar to that a person experiences when viewing art.  It was just a matter of wanting to know the deeper meaning of the painting.  With that in mind, she found the will to shake off the stupor, adjusting the grocery sacks in her hands before continuing on her way.    <><><><><><><><><><><><><>  Upon returning home, _____ realized she merely beat Olivia’s F150, and she didn’t miss a beat to scurry into the kitchen and unload the bounty.  She had just tossed the last bag and grabbed a pan to prepare dinner when Olivia’s heels sounded on the linoleum.  “_______?  What are you doing?”  _______ turned to address the white-clad woman with an arched brow.  “Pardon?” “Didn’t I tell you?  Roman and I will be out tonight.  I’m taking him shopping for clothes.  There’s no need to cook tonight.” “What about Shelley?” Her ebony eyes flicked to the side.  “Ah, yes.  I suppose you will need to cook, then.”  She pursed her lips, crinkling her nose before waving her hand exasperatedly.  “Prepare the lasagna dish that you make, I suppose.  Shelley adores it.” _____ gave her a small smile and a nod before returning to her task.  She barely began her process before she heard someone approaching from behind.  Her smile broadened before she turned to look up at the tall girl. “Hi, Shelley.” The friendly giant returned _____’s smile with one of her own before waving with one of her wrapped hands.  “Did your mom tell you what I’m making?” Shelley shook her head, and ______ gave a mock gasp.  “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t tell then.  It might ruin the surprise.” A small grunt left Shelley’s lips in protest, to which _____ replied with a sassy hand-to-the-hip.  “All right.  Fine, fine.  We’re having the lasagna dish, but it’ll have to be our secret, ok?  No one else can know because then everyone else will try to stay for dinner.” A silent giggle before Shelley finally nodded in agreement.  “All right.  Hand me those noodles, Seashell.” She finished prepping the dish with help from Shelley before retiring to sit at the table.    “So, are you excited about the first day tomorrow?” Shelley tilted her head from side to side. _____ made a face.  “Why so?” Shelley typed before the automated voice said, “People.” “Ah, well, that’s because they don’t understand you.  They don’t understand how your heart is filled with warmth and…” she trailed off, gently bopping her nose, resulting in a soft blue glow, “light.” The two girls shared smiles.  “Besides, I’ll be the one weirdo reading in the corner during lunch if you need someone to talk to.” Shelley paused to type.  “Roman, too?” _____ paused but nodded.  “Yes… Roman will be there, too.  Don’t worry about those people,” she said, patting Shelley’s bandaged hand.  Shelley nodded with a bright grin, which _____ returned. “Now, what are you gonna wear tomorrow?” There was a pause before Shelley presented a picture of an outfit on a mannequin.  _____ smirked.  “Well, you definitely have me beat.  I’m gonna look like I’m dressed in a potato sack.”  In reality, the statement wasn’t far from the truth since she hadn’t gone shopping in a few years.  Nevertheless, her loss was a smile for Shelley, and that was enough for her. The two chuckled but were cut off as Roman came bustling into the kitchen.  “What are you two so cheery about?” he asked, brushing Shelley’s cheek in passing before leaning up against the counter.  “What smells so good?” _____ and Shelley exchanged a glance before she replied, “Just talking about girl stuff.  And, that’s nothi—Hey! Don’t look in there!”  She bolted from her chair, moving to keep Roman from opening the oven door.  The two bumped hips as they fought for dominance.  “Roman, no!” she pleaded, struggling to muffle a giggle. It was too late.  “You evil witch,” he muttered upon realizing what the dish was inside.  “The one night…”  He turned his attention towards Shelley.  “And you were just going to keep this from me.”  A shake of his head.  “You women wound me,” he sighed, smacking a hand over his heart.  She couldn’t help but roll her eyes.  “We’ll leave a square.” As he looked down on her with those green eyes, she was reminded of the times when they would play as children in the big castle.  Back then, it was ok to pretend.  Now, they were older and had to assume their roles.  She learned quickly that it was easier that way, but at times like this, it was hard to remember the rules she placed for herself. “Darling.”  The two blinked as Olivia’s voice filled the kitchen once again.  Her eyes darted between the two of them before settling on Roman.  “You’re going to be late.  Best get a move on.” Roman nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing once before he tore his eyes from her.  With that, he left, and _____ kicked herself for letting her guard down.  Times have changed, she thought, remembering the car fiasco she had witnessed earlier.  He wasn’t her friend anymore.  Their relationship was soon to be strictly professional when he became of age, and Olivia was all too quick to reiterate that point with a stern look. ***** Blood in the Cut ***** Chapter Notes Hello! I'm back with another update. Thank you for the feedback. Please feel free to leave comments. Song for this chapter is "Blood in the Cut" by K. Flay. Roman Godfrey was a troubled boy.  It was always clear to her, ever since she witnessed him finding the body of his father.  He was merely six, and she was approaching five.  She had watched from behind a corner as Roman’s eyes remained transfixed on the dead man.             It was a horrid sight—blood everywhere and half of Senior Godfrey’s brains spilled out upon the pristine rug.  Roman didn’t cry.  Instead, he slowly lifted his gaze to her, eyes wide as saucers, before murmuring, “Such a mess.  Mother will be angry.”             Her first reaction was to hug him, for that had always made him feel better.  At least it did when he scraped his knee, she had reasoned.             Roman remained still, almost limp in her hold as his eyes fell back to his father.  She reached up, cupping her hand over his eyes, whispering, “Don’t look.”  That’s what mommy always tells me when something is bad.            “Roman, darling, come here.”  The voice was clear of emotion.  Instead, it seemed as if Olivia was merely comforting Roman for stubbing his toe.  Roman’s face remained downcast as he approached his mother, to which she responded by scooping him up in her arms and smoothing his hair.             “It’s all right.  You’re so much stronger than he was,” she cooed.             All the while ____ couldn’t help but wonder why Olivia didn’t stop Mr. Godfrey.  In fact, she recalled that Olivia only watched the scene unfold.             _____ blinked the memory away as she turned the door knob to the bathroom.  As she was lost deep in her thoughts, she hardly noticed the clothes strewn on the floor.  It wasn’t until she heard a splash of water that she noticed the young man in the tub.              She took in the white powder that littered his upper lip and a vanity mirror balanced between his legs.  He brought a cigarette to his lips as he watched her beneath lazy lids.  She watched in fascination as he made beautiful patterns with the smoke.  Yes, Roman was a troubled young man, she thought, eyes falling to the pile of white powder.  It was only when he arched a brow as his cheeks hollowed that she had the sense to avert her eyes.  “S-sorry,” she stuttered out, making a quick retreat from the bathroom.              Out of all the bathrooms in this monstrous house!            Thankfully, she didn’t get as much of a show as she did the previous day.  She tried for another bathroom, and, luckily for her, it was accessible.             Meanwhile, Roman was still soaking in the warm water.  In his chemically-induced stupor, he had watched the domestic worker scramble out of the bathroom with amusement.  He couldn’t find the energy to understand what the big fucking deal was.  They had basically grown up together and, if he recalled correctly, shared the same bathwater on more than one occasion.  The way she regarded him, though… as if he was nothing to her at all than a piece to be admired briefly before moving on.  It was definitely a change of pace, considering that everywhere he went he turned heads andheld their fascination.  She was quite a peculiar one.  He shrugged the thought off as he realized his thinking was ruining his brief high.  His lips puckered, and he blew an O-shaped smoke ring.  Funny how it resembled that same symbol…             His attention was captivated when he faintly detected a car pulling up to the house.  He leapt from the water, ignoring the fact that he was soaking the floor, to catch a glance of the visitor.  Despite a bitter flare within him, a smirk spread across his lips.  “Seems mommy dearest has a visitor,” he muttered, watching as his Uncle Norman entered the greenhouse.  <><><><><><><><><><><><>              High school was the worst.  She had concluded on this thought upon arriving to the prison.  Its inmates were ruthless creatures, and the teachers could care less what they did to each other.  She had walked with Shelley to school, seeing as Olivia had a meeting, and she dared not ask Roman after their earlier encounter.  And to prove her conclusion, as soon as they walked down the halls, people began their mockery.  ____ thought it ironic that the town kissed the asses of Olivia and Roman but never Shelley.  She was always regarded as the third wheel.  And, she detested how people thought they deserved a gold star for being nice to her when Roman was around.  She gritted her teeth, wanting to shield Shelley from all their negative energies; alas, she was forced to endure them throughout the day as was Shelley.  As the two started to walk home, ____ caught sight of a new boy in passing.  Of course, he stared as they passed, and she noticed that Shelley’s face glowed slightly.  His brows rose in surprise at Shelley’s reaction and height, but it wasn’t in resentment.  His crystal blue eyes then fell to ___, and she took the opportunity to notice his appearance. He seemed to have an Earth-Bound meets punk vibe going on—not that she was protesting.  She thought he was rather appealing with his facial shape and shoulder-length chestnut hair.  “Hey.  Wait up!” She turned, coming face to chest with the new kid.  He lifted his hand, gesturing towards Shelley.  “Uh… Does she actually—ya know… glow?” ___ eyed him skeptically, moving in a defensive stance before Shelley, which was quite humorous since Shelley towered above her.  He caught her drift and raised his hands in surrender.  “Believe me, I’m the last person that’s gonna make fun of someone else.” Seeing that he was genuine in his response, she nodded slowly.  “Yeah, Shel is a very special being,” she said, glancing up at Shelley.  Sure enough, Shelley’s face beamed a light azure glow. He cracked a grin as he watched her.  “Cool.”  He then extended his hand to the two of them, and ____ briefly noted that his middle finger and pointer finger were the same size.  His words echoed in her head.  She had read enough fantasy novels and overheard enough stories from her parents to know his heritage.  “Peter Rumancek,” he said with a slight bow to Shelley.  He then turned to ___, and she took his hand to introduce Shelley and herself, feeling a tingle that confirmed her theory.  “Gypsy werewolf, right?” she questioned. His brows rose briefly, eyes darting about before he donned a poker face.  “What?” “Your jewelry.  My family use to tell me stories, and I’ve seen the symbols before.”  She halfway lied to conceal how she truly knew.  She shrugged as if it was no big deal.  “Your secret’s safe with me.” Her response further perplexed him.  He couldn’t understand how a human could know, especially when he couldn’t detect anything out of the ordinary.  Perhaps, there was more about her, especially since she hung out with a strange, beautiful creature.    “Hey, sis.”  The voice snapped them both to attention as Peter raised his eyes to the tall teen with dirty blond hair.  Roman, I think.  He recalled the eye-war they had had earlier before turning his attention back to the girl.  She seemed just as taken off-guard as he.  Roman’s brows drew together as he sent Peter a look before shaking his head.  “Come on.  We’re leaving,” Roman said, grabbing her hand. ____ barely had a chance to say goodbye as Roman practically dragged her and Shelley to the parking lot where some chick was standing by his car.  Her blood boiled as she noticed the girl sending snide glances towards Shelley.  Not only that, but she was slightly ticked that Roman had rudely dragged her away from Peter.  What was his deal anyway?  She had only taken six steps when she realized that the prince was still walking beside her.  “Wanna ride?” She kept her gaze on the space before her.  “No.  Thank you, though.” “You know, you always say that,” he replied, continuing to languidly walk beside her brisk pace.  “Why is that?  You’re not actually proud, are you?”  The question was laced with mockery and cruelness, but ____ didn’t exactly expect any different from him, for it was all a matter of deflection.   “No.  Just seems like a nice day for a walk.  Right, Seashell?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes.  “You always spout that shit, even when it rains.” She didn’t reply. “Come on, pup.” The nickname caused her to pause for a moment as she recalled the first time he had used it.  He coined it for her because she could never be still for too long, and he declared she wiggled too much like a puppy.  It felt wrong now since they were no longer children.  It was for that very same reason that she refused his offer again, speeding up her pace even more.  “Why not?” he pressed, seeming to become agitated. How to say that she didn’t want to inhale sex the entire ride back to the mansion?  She’d rather arrive late at the house and take her chances with Olivia.  He persisted once more, and she finally let out, “Why don’t you give Shelley a ride if you’re not too busy.”  She made air quotes as she emphasized the word with a glance towards the girl of the day. When she saw that he froze in following her, she grabbed Shelley’s bandaged hand and started towards the mansion.  She halfway expected him to still be on her tail, but to her luck, he was already getting in the car with the girl. Shelley looked between the two with a confused expression, but ___ reassured her with a smile. <><><><><><><><><><>              He didn’t understand his emotions.  A part of him reasoned that it was because her rejection had angered and embarrassed him.  That’s how it had been as of late; she always rejected him, ignored him, or turned away.  The previous night took him off guard because it was the first time she had shown some semblance that they had ever even known each other.  He didn’t understand what had happened.  He always considered her a bosom companion when he was younger.  Then again, when freshman year started, he had tried to fit in, and that meant ditching things of the past.  Perhaps that was why she was so cold towards him.  Now he was a senior and simply didn’t give a fuck.              Perhaps there was reasoning in this as to why he had yet to fuck the starry-eyed girl in his passenger seat.  For the longest time, he had just driven down some winding dirt road lost in his thoughts.  The girl tried everything to capture his attention, talking about this and that.  Finally, after nearly an hour and a half of trying, she had given up and suggested giving him head.              He shrugged his shoulders, not really caring what she did; she made a face.  Nevertheless, there she was fooling with the zipper of his pants.  She unzipped his pants before pulling out his member.  Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she set out to impress him.  He felt her exaggerated moan rumble through him, but it did nothing for him.  He honestly wasn’t in the mood after the earlier event, and it frustrated him because it made no sense.             As she finished with a lick of her lips, his mood soured even more as he deemed her too sloppy.  It didn’t help matters that he found himself parked in front of his mansion.  “Shee-it,” he muttered, eyes darting to the garage to find that Olivia had yet to arrive home.  At least something was going right today.              He had an epiphany, as brief and childish as it was.  Still, even he wasn’t that low.  So, he settled on getting the girl next to him high.  Might as well give her an A for effort.             “Stay here.  I’m gonna go get something.”             “But, Roman,” she playfully drawled.             His eyes caught hers, darkening as he reiterated, “Stay.  Here.”             “I’ll stay,” she deadpanned.             He turned from her and entered the house.  The only sound that could be heard came from Shelley’s room.  She had on some rock & roll jam.  He began to ascend the stairs, wiping the blood from his nose as he did so.  As he approached his room, he could hear someone singing along to Shelley’s music. “I need blood in the cut…” She kept on, and he found himself slowly approaching the room—the bathroom, to be exact—in which it came from.  He briefly noted the state of the house, deducing that ___ must have already done the chores.  She even had dinner almost ready, judging from the smell. His feet were silent as they brought him to the source.  ____ was sitting on the edge of the tub, her feet in the water.  She was dressed in pajama shorts and a spaghetti-strapped tank top.  It didn’t take long for him to realize that she was shaving her legs, and for some time, he found himself entranced as he watched her movements. The mirror had become foggy, he noted, as steam brushed against it.  Her small hands ran along her smooth legs, spreading more of the strawberry-scented shaving cream.  He even found it, dare he say, erotic.  His eyes widened as another sweet scent filled his nostrils. ___ hissed as the razor cut a small patch of skin, resulting in blood trickling down her calf.  “Shoot,” she muttered, fumbling for a towel.  Roman knew he should have left, especially since she was about to turn around.  Except, he simply couldn’t.  His feet wouldn’t move.  Instead, all he could do was focus on the line of blood trailing down her skin.  For a moment, he could have sworn that he could taste it since the aroma was so powerful.  The experience cost him his hiding spot as a shaky inhale left his lips.  She immediately heard it, and those eyes of hers widened as a doe’s would upon realizing the predator has been watching her.  A scenario flashed before his eyes—one that he himself was slightly disturbed by—in that silent, palpable moment.  He saw himself charging her, pulling her away from the tub, before holding her down against that floor.  He imagined himself licking that intoxicating fluid away— Roman backed away, face turning pale as he blinked twice.  Without another word, he all but sprinted down the stairs, taking two at a time before finding himself back in his car.  He was so wrapped up in what had just happened that when the girl spoke, he felt his joints almost snap like rubber bands. “So… where is it?” He looked at her as if she had two heads.  “What?” “The stuff,” she said as if it were obvious. He shook his head, cranking the car.  “Fuck it.  I have a better idea.” Five minutes later, he had her in the backseat, legs tossed at various angles as he pounded into her.  The pace was exactly where he liked it; yet, something was missing.  He lowered his mouth to her chest and bit down hard.  The girl protested with a whine but then arched up into it.  He went lower and nibbled her breast, which caused her to let out a slew of moans.  He groaned in irritation as he realized she wasn’t going to last long.  So, he managed to get a couple of more thrusts in before she came undone.  He leaned back on his haunches, lighting a cigarette.  Meanwhile, the girl was still writhing beneath him.  How tedious.  She finally came down from her high to sit up.  She glanced at Roman with a drunk, silly smirk.  “You really are something, Godfrey,” she giggled, clasping her bra.  She noticed the bite marks on her chest, frowning slightly.  “Shit, Roman.  Do you realize how much make-up it’s gonna take to cover this up?” He shrugged, exhaling a puff of smoke.  “No more then you usually wear, I assume.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes whilst he moved to the front seat.  She barely managed to join him before he sped off.  All the while, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he wasn’t tasting that sweet blood of ____’s. ***** Treat Me Like You Do ***** Chapter Summary Only one more chapter until we get cookin'! Thank you all for the feedback! Song for this chapter is "Blue Monday" by New Order.             Her damn heart refused to be still.              For the past hour, she had come to be propped up against the tub and curled up on the bathroom floor.  Her eyes had remained glued to the dripping faucet, her eyes watching as each droplet dripped into the now-cold water.  It seemed her heart produced numerous beats within the tempo set by the drops.  Her leg had long been forgotten, although she vaguely remembered dressing the cut at one point.              He had been watching her.  The realization unnerved her.  It was the look in his eyes.  His eyes weren’t his own.  Viridescent orbs had melted into something dark—something lustful.  It was the way he looked at all his conquests.  She was no stranger to seeing that lustful look in his eyes, but she had never been on the receiving end of his attentions.  She couldn’t recall that level of… hunger.  He had seemed animalistic, as if he meant to attack her like he did those football players that had picked on her and Shelley.  Since she had been on the receiving end, it was the first time that she actually feared him. The faint sound of sniffling mixed with heavy wheezes pierced through her thoughts, overpowering the dripping-background noise.  Realizing what was happening, she drained the tub and rushed to the source. “…a young student was found disemboweled…” The words met her ears before her eyes registered Brook Bluebell’s picture.  Her lips parted as she read that an animal was believed to have killed her.  ____ tried to comfort Shelley whilst gathering as much information as she could from the news report.  Unfortunately, it was to no avail. “What the fuck did you do to her?” ____ spun around with wide eyes to see that Roman had returned.  His clothing was disheveled, and he had already shed his shirt in favor of his undershirt.  With a moment of mind overload, she wasn’t fast enough to respond, and in a blink of an eye he had forced her away from Shelley. He sent ___ a glower before turning off the news and soothing Shelley.  “It’s ok.  I’m here.” ___ didn’t know what else to do.  Roman had made her feel useless and out of place.  So, she hurried to the kitchen to finish dinner.  She waited… and waited.  No one ever came down, and Olivia had yet to come home.  Consequently, she wrapped up the food, cleaned the kitchen, and then went to bed.  <><><><><><><><><><><>  Hemlock Grove seemed like a ghost town, for all its businesses had closed unexpectedly as a result of the attack.  The hype was even worse at school.              ____ saw Peter watching the scene before them.  She had heard a bunch of people talking about him.  Currently, three freshman girls were suggesting that he had killed Brooke.  Consequently, he looked as if his day was off to a bad start.              “Morning,” she greeted.             Peter seemed to hesitate for a moment before returning the greeting.              “I know how it is,” she said.  “They can all be quite cruel.”             He leaned his head back against the locker.  “I highly doubt you do—what with being under the protection of the Godfreys.”             She scoffed.  “Believe me, it’s not as glamorous as you think.”  Her boots suddenly captured her attention.  “If anything, it makes things harder,” she admitted softly before snapping out of her trailing thoughts.  “Anyway, you practically have one foot out the door unlike us mere mortals,” she sardonically lilted with a roll of her eyes.              The corner of his lips tipped up.  “Guess I’ll suck it up, then.”             She mimicked the reaction, nibbling her lips slightly before starting off for class.              The day passed rather slowly, seeming to drag out every miserable, tearful moment.  She was the first to admit that it was horrible, but some of these people didn’t even know the girl and were dramatically mourning her.  In her opinion, it seemed insulting to the deceased’s memory.              “…mauled by an animal…”             The phrase echoed in her mind, and she briefly considered if Peter had any involvement with the girl’s murder, especially after discovering his heritage and hearing Olivia’s negative opinion of his family the previous night.  Then again, ____ wasn’t one to assume.  If living with the Godfreys had taught her anything, it was to not judge books by their covers.              The bell sounded, and she collected her things to return home.  Being as Olivia had found time to pick up Shelley, ___ was left to walk home alone.  She ran through the motions of completing chores before deciding to get ready for bed since she wouldn’t have to prepare dinner.              After a quick shower, she sat with her legs crossed atop her bed whilst combing her hair.  She pulled out her phone, seeing that Letha had already inquired whether or not ___ would be attending the memorial service.  As rude as it seemed, she felt it would have been even ruder going since she hardly knew Brooke.  She responded, and the two began to converse.  Letha had just brought up the subject of Peter when ___ felt another presence in the room.  She glanced up with a fright as Roman hovered over her sitting form.  His eyes had obviously been reading the texts between Letha and her.  For how long, she didn’t know.  “Mom says that Romancek kid is filth.” “Perhaps to you.  I found him rather pleasant.  He’s… different,” she provided with a shrug.  He sneered at her.  “How typical of you.  You’ve always been too easy to please.” ____ didn’t take offense.  It was typical Roman behavior.  Apparently, her reaction didn’t appease him, though, for he pushed the matter. “I don’t want you or Shelley talking to him.  At least not until I figure out what his deal is.” ____ arched a brow at this.  “Sorry?” He looked at her as if she were daft.  “Don’t talk to the gypsy,” he reiterated. “Yeah, I heard you.  Pardon me, but I do believe it’s none of your business who I associate myself with.” “You work for us; you represent this family.  Don’t need the help degrading us.” At this, she snapped.  “Since when did you decide to become concerned?”  Four years of treating her like chopped liver, and he suddenly wants to make her business his own?  He lowered himself to her height before moving to hover over her until she was practically on her back.  She willed herself to shrink back as far as possible in order to keep some semblance of space between them.  His arms caged her beneath him, hands braced on either side of her head.   Her elbows were the only thing that kept her propped up, and even they were beginning to fail as she registered that his belt buckle was digging into her left thigh.  His face hovered mere inches above her own as he regarded her with a mocking smirk. “Foolish pup.  You’re mistaken.  I just don’t want you doing anything reckless to disgrace this family like your mother did.” ___’s eyes widened and then narrowed.  Her self-control was dwindling, and she was beginning to not care about who he was.  He, of course, registered this and exploited it.  “Guess her bed got chilly after your old man—” He was interrupted by a sharp slap, and it took both of them off guard.  He gave her a few inches of space, clutching his cheek.  There’s that feist. He chuckled, presenting her with a view of his white teeth.  In the next instance, he had her damp hair wrapped around his fist, giving it a hard tug until she was forced to look up at him.  She gritted her teeth whilst growling his name—just like when they fought as children.  “Careful, puppy,” he warned, hand trailing down her stomach. Her muscles clenched as his hand continued to trail down her thigh, and she wiggled to get out from beneath him.  Of course, with half his weight on her, she was as good as paralyzed.  When his hand finally stopped it was directly above her covered cut.  There was a slight stinging before he cautioned her, “Remember what we discussed.”  Then, he was gone. It was all too late, and she was far too horrified when she realized that he had ripped her Band-Aid off, leaving behind a reopened wound.  Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!