His Indecent Training 4 by Sky Corgan Page A

all.
    When I showed up at Damien's door
the next afternoon, it was confusion city all over again. My mind had
poisoned my emotions all day, questioning why Damien and I didn't
have sex more frequently. I would have to ask him about it before it
ate me alive.
    He had barely opened the door to me
when he said, “Go home.”
    My heart sank to my feet, and I just
gaped at him. “What?”
    “ Did I stutter? Go home and
spend the week thinking about how you upset me. When you come back on
Saturday, your day will start with punishment.”
    “ Are you kidding me? You just
made me drive all this way to see you, and now you're turning me
away? You couldn't have sent me a text or something? Gas isn't free,
you know.”
    His expression betrayed no emotion.
“You couldn't go a full week without seeing him. I couldn't
stop it. But I can keep you away from me. This is the first part of
your punishment, if it even matters to you.”
    Was this really happening? I
couldn't believe what was coming out of his mouth.
    “ So, since I blew you off
yesterday, you don't want to see me at all this weekend?”
    “ Go home, Cheyenne,” he
said, closing the door in my face.
    Anger welled up inside of me, and my
body went into emotional overload. I had been good. I had deflected
Colton's advances, and this was how I was being repaid. No. He was
going to have to deal with me whether he liked it or not.
    With a scowl, I pounded on the door.
The gloves were about to come off. Fur was going to fly, and by the
time we were through, everything was going to be laid out on the
table. I wanted him emotionally stripped bare, as I had felt all week
long. I wanted to know if this was worth it.
    His footsteps retreated, and it only
made me knock harder. “You get back here!” I yelled at
him through the door.
    The footsteps didn't return.
    “ God damn it, Damien! Stop
being a brat. You get back here right this instant, or I'm breaking
this fucking door down!”
    My knuckles ached from rapping on
the door. When I felt like I couldn't knock on it anymore, I began
kicking it, leaving black scuff marks on the paint.
    For all of my threats and kicking
and thrashing though, the door would not budge, and Damien wasn't
coming back. His stubbornness enraged me even further, but there was
nothing I could do about it. Words were my only weapon. If I screamed
loud enough, he could hear me, so as a last-ditch effort, I yelled,
“Fine. I hate you. I never want to see you again,” and
walked away.
    The second I got in my car, I
regretted it. What had come over me? What was wrong with me? Part of
me wanted to get back out, run to his door, throw myself against it
and apologize. But would that make him any more likely to come out? I
doubted it. The damage was done, and to save my pride, all I could do
was scurry off with my tail between my legs.
    And so I left, sobbing the entire
way home, to the point where I could barely see out my front
windshield. If I get into an accident and die, it will be
his fault. I hope he knows that. And if he didn't, I would haunt him
for the rest of his life.
    I spent the rest of the afternoon hating myself. Hating Damien.
Regretting. Regretting. Regretting.
    At one point, I thought about calling Colton, about telling him what
had happened and going over to his apartment for comfort. I knew
where that would lead though, and for as horny as I was, having sex
would only make me feel worse. Not because having sex would be bad,
but because my mind just wouldn't be into it. Damien would be on my
mind, and that wasn't fair to Colton.
    Did it really matter though? Were Damien and I over? Had my hateful
words put the last nail in the coffin of our dark relationship? And
should I even care? Anyone who made me feel that shitty didn't
deserve my love. Did he?
    Even though alcohol wasn't usually my thing, I raided my father's
liquor cabinet and got couch-sloshing smashed in front of the
television, constantly flipping channels to find something happy