Brianna’s POV
Go to hell!
I sob incessantly. The images of the awful memories I made with Mr. Luther come to mind, and the notes and dollars. They are just in my face and everywhere I turn.
“Stupid ass, proud and mean i***t,” I groaned.
I don’t think I would ever forgive him, not now, not ever. He could go to hell for all I care, and burn. I’m done playing his damsel in distress.
It’s barely 11: 00 PM, and I’ve started to feel funky again. This time, not my limbs trembling out of anxiety or symptoms of Parkinson’s. I feel nauseous and slightly irritated. Jeez! It’s becoming frustrating.
A cold shower may kick my butt back in a good mood, I’m sure. I strip off my uniform and hit the shower, but once I get in, Mr. Luther steals my thoughts once again, living rent-free in my mind like
