“Are you sure you hate me?” I asked in a low voice. And I slipped a hand between her legs, swiping my fingers over the fabric of her leotard, and feeling what I knew would be there. She was seeping through. She was wet. I brought my fingers up. “If he didn’t touch you, then is this for me?” She slammed me in the chest, and I stumbled back, letting her out. “You’re a monster. You’re no better than him,” she growled. “You played with me. You took advantage of me not being able to see, just like he did, and got exactly what you wanted. You abused me.” “Yeah.” I nodded, getting back up in her
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