Darn Stupid Brother You Are by Mairee

Chapter 92

Chapter 92

(Bundah's POV)

Charlotte's laugh was soft, like the flutter of bird wings. It wasn't often I heard it, but when I did, it made everything in this hellhole feel a little less grim. She was sitting across from me in the built-in library. Her lips were tugged into a small smile as she tried to read aloud from one of the French-English books we'd borrowed. Her accent still tripped over certain words, and each time she stumbled, she'd giggle nervously and glance at me for reassurance. "You're getting better," I said as I leaned back in the rickety chair. "By next week, you'll be speaking English better than I do."

She gave me a disbelieving look and shook her head. "You're lying, Bundah," her broken English was charming. "But thank you for... how you say... the hope?"

"The compliment," I corrected with a grin. "And it's not a lie."

Her cheeks flushed, and she returned her focus to the book, but the moment of peace was short-lived. I noticed a group of guys lingering by the entrance, whispering and glancing our way. Their eyes were judgmental. I didn't like it. I'd overheard the rumors they'd been spreading about Charlotte-how she'd ended up at the center by mistake, how she didn't belong here, and worse, how she was an easy target because of her vulnerability.

"Stay here," I said abruptly and stood. Charlotte looked up, startled.

"Bundah? What are you doing?"

"Just keep reading," I said and forced a smile before striding toward the group.

They straightened as I approached and their smirks faded. "Got something to say?" I asked in a deceptively calm tone.

One of them, a tall guy with a sneer permanently lined on his face, shrugged. "Just talking, man. Relax."

"Yeah? Talking about what?" I took a step closer. "Because if it's about Charlotte, you better stop now."

The sneer faltered, but he recovered quickly. "Why do you care? She's not your girl."

"No, she's not," I said as my fists clenched at my sides. "But she's under my protection, and if I hear you or anyone else spreading crap about her again, we're gonna have a problem. Got it?"

They exchanged uneasy glances before muttering something and walking away. I didn't move until they were out of sight. My chest was heaving with barely contained anger. When I turned back to Charlotte, she was watching me with wide eyes.

"You... you didn't have to do that," she said softly as I returned to the table.

"Yes, I did," I replied, sitting down. "No one's gonna mess with you while I'm around."

Her smile was faint, but it was there. "Thank you, Bundah."

I said, meaning every

•

(Dilara's POV)

alone. That much was obvious the moment I turned the corner and saw him leaning against the wall, waiting. My stomach dropped, and

hammered in my chest as his gaze swept over me as if enjoying the view of freshly roasted steak. "What do you want?" My voice was trembling despite my effort to sound

cold wall behind me. "What do you think I want?" he said mockingly.

me. "You're disgusting," I spat and tried to summon some courage. "Stay

made my skin crawl. "Oh, Dilara. You've always been good at playing the victim. But we both

reached out as if to touch me, and panic instantly paralyzed me. Before I could think, I shoved him with all my strength, making

But then, footsteps echoed down the hallway, and he stepped back as his lips curled into a

to catch my breath. The tears came unbidden. I felt

cross-legged on Angel's bed. Thank goodness the rest were asleep. My hands were clutching the edge of the blanket like it was the only thing grounding me. Angel sat across from me, her knees drawn up to her chest, watching me with those empathetic eyes of hers, the ones that made it impossible not to spill every

like a poisonous fruit lodged in my throat for so long I didn't know how

you need to," Angel said

I was at this party with a group of friends. It wasn't anything wild-just some people from my art class, hanging out, drinking a little. I remember feeling safe because everyone there was

tilted her head

when someone like him walks into a room. People look the other way. He started talking to me, making these.... comments about my art, about my body, about how I 'stood out.' At first, I thought he was

my breath as the memories came rushing back. "Eventually, I decided to leave. I thought if I got outside, I

pressed into a thin line.

"He pinned me against the wall. Said I'd been 'teasing him all night' just by existing. I tried to push him away, to scream, but he was so much stronger. He covered my mouth and... and..."

"You don't have to say it all if it's too

one heard me. By the time I got away, it was too late." I closed my eyes as I felt the shame and anger burning me from the inside. "I didn't tell anyone for weeks. I thought it was my fault. That maybe I'd done something to

widened with shock.

thinking this place would 'fix' me.

as she gripped mine tighter. "Dilara, you didn't deserve that. None of it. And he

just want him to feel what I felt, Angel. I want

voice was resolute. "He definitely

long time,

the words catching in my throat as I stared at my lap. Angel was patiently sitting there with an expression that was equal parts compassion and curiosity. I knew

sneaking off to see Dr. Nixon back

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