by K. G. Reuss
I ground my teeth.
Not Ethan, you raggedy bitch.
“Rosalie, were you going to say something?” Juliet asked, looking at me in surprise like she hadn’t known I was there the entire time, a wicked glint in her eyes. She never told on me for the locker room, but I could see how heavy the makeup was around her eyes where the bruising was still healing.
“Uh, yeah, I was. I was going to tell Fox something.” I gave him the best smile I could muster.
“Rosie,” he murmured, giving a slight shake of his head. “No.”
“I want you to go to hell.”
“Fuck. Rosalie, wait!” Fox shouted as I spun on my heel and strode away as fast as I could.
“Fox! Don’t you dare!” Juliet called out.
And for a moment I thought Fox might follow me and tell her to go to hell, but the second I made it to the hallway, I realized I was alone.
He hadn’t come after me. But I’d expected nothing less.
I had to find Ethan.
Ethan was harder to track down than I was. I still hadn’t seen him by the following week. I even went to the cafeteria on lunch, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. When I’d tried to send him a text, it failed to send. When I’d called, I got a recording saying his number had been disconnected. Driving to his house seemed dangerous since Ian watched my every move. I couldn’t just get a hold of the guys to ask about him, so I waited. Jamie was my next way in. As I sat in my first class of the day, I sent a text to her.
Rosalie: If you see Ethan, tell him to meet me in the nook at lunch. Tell him not to tell anyone.
Jamie: I saw him this morning. If he shows up for class, I’ll tell him. Fingers crossed!
Lunch couldn’t come quick enough. The moment the bell rang, I dashed away, making sure to avoid Ian. I’d told him I was going to use the time to learn my lines. He seemed fine with it considering he was still stuck on the blowjob I’d given him. Lucky for me, he hadn’t asked me to do it again and hadn’t really touched me since, other than his random fawning and kissing he did in front of people.
When I got to the library, I was thankful Mrs. Pierson, the librarian, wasn’t there. She tended to leave the library for lunch, which was perfect. I went to the back, saying a silent prayer Ethan had shown up. Jamie had texted me and said she’d delivered the message. But apparently he’d only stared at her like he was confused.
When I entered the nook, I nearly jumped for joy. Ethan was sitting in one of the leather chairs. His hands shook as he raked his fingers through his hair. I frowned at him as he drew in a shaky breath, his hair now a wild mess on his head. I stepped forward, worry coursing through me.
“Ethan? What’s wrong?”
“Rosalie…” His voice cracked as he rose to his feet to greet me. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”
He gave a slight tremor as I approached him.
“Of course I’d be here. I’m the one who asked you to meet me,” I murmured, looking around to make sure we were alone.
“Right.” He shook his head, his eyes finally locking on mine. “Right. I know that.”
“Beats the bathroom, right?” I attempted a weak joke that didn’t even make his lips twitch.
He looked like hell. His clothes were rumpled. The dark circles around his eyes made his eye color more prominent. He looked thinner. Sicker.
I shifted awkwardly and backed away from him as he sat back in his seat. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Don’t go,” he croaked, reaching for me. Desperation clouded his features, and my armor cracked.
I moved back to him.
“Do you want me to get Fox?”
He shook his head and stretched further to reach me. When he took my hand, I didn’t tug it away.
“Do you love him?” he whispered, his voice cracking.
“Fox?”
He shook his head again. “No. Him. Ian. The one you’re torturing us with. H-Have I really lost you?”
I didn’t answer as he gave my hand a squeeze.
“Don’t do it, Rosalie. Sweetheart. Please. I-It’s killing me.”
I kneeled in front of him. He immediately reached out and cradled my face, his brows crinkled.
“I miss you so fucking much. I can’t live like this anymore. I won’t.”
Panic swept through me at his words.
“Ethan, don’t do anything foolish.”
“I’m not telling you I’m going to kill myself. but… if I take too much, I won’t fight it.”
“What are you talking about?” I didn’t want him to know Enzo had told me.
His bottom lip quivered, and a river of tears flooded his pale cheeks. “There’s so much you don’t know about me. So fucking much. I have a past, Rosalie. It haunts me. You were my comfort. Without you, I’m going crazy. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Ethan—”
“Shh,” he wept, his body trembling. “Hold me. Please. I need you.” His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he stared back at me. “I’m losing it. I’m fucking losing it.”
I moved forward and wrapped him in a tight hug. His body shook against mine as he wept, his face buried in my neck, his tears staining me with his torment.
“I fucked up, Rosalie. I fucked up.” He repeated it over and over as I held him.
“It’s OK. It’ll be OK,” I murmured as I held him.
“I don’t love her. I hate her. I want her to die. I want to kill her.” His words were broken and scattered as he continued to cry. “I’m going to do really bad things.”
“Ethan.” I pulled away amid his soft protests and stared him in his tear-soaked eyes. “You’re a beautiful person, and you’re going to do beautiful things someday. None of those things will hurt anyone.”
“But I already hurt you,” he whispered, blinking. The tears clinging to his dark lashes fell down his cheeks.
I wiped them away and gave him a watery smile.
“And I’m still standing.”
“But not beside me,” he answered hoarsely. “How do I fix it? Tell me. I love you, Rosalie. I fucking love you so much. I always knew I would.”
Before I could form a coherent thought, his lips crashed against mine, sending all remaining sense from my body. His kiss was rough, fierce, completely opposite of everything that was Ethan. He tangled his fingers in my hair, his strong arms holding me so tightly I had trouble breathing as he plundered my mouth.
I let out a whimper as he fisted my hair, sending delicious flickers of pain through my scalp. I allowed myself a moment of freedom with him, telling myself to stick to the plan of breaking the horsemen apart.
But I couldn’t. Not right then. I didn’t want to hurt him with ugly words. There wasn’t anything within me that wanted to harm Ethan.
I wanted him though. I wanted him so badly it hurt. I needed my sweet, caring Ethan back. I wanted to kiss and touch him. I wanted to make promises to him that would make him smile.
But with Ethan’s kiss, I found my reservations in ashes around my warded off heart. New ideas cropped up. Ugly ideas. Ideas which were borderline crazy and absolutely dangerous. But we both wanted something. Me, revenge. Him, my love. But I wouldn’t hurt him. I’d keep him.
I focused on how Ethan’s taut muscles felt as I ran my hands beneath his shirt. He shivered beneath my touch. Ethan Masters was all mine. Always mine.
“Seems you two are having a party I wasn’t invited to.”
I jerked out of Ethan’s hold despite his grumblings and peered up to find Cole leaning against a bookshelf, his arms folded over his chest. His blue-eyed gaze flicked from Ethan to me, both of us wearing varying degrees of guilt. Cole dragged his fingers along his jaw and around to grip his neck as he shoved off the bookcase and stalked forward.
“I brought what you needed.” He tossed a baggie of pills at Ethan. “You’re welcome.”
Ethan quickly fisted the bag before I could make out exactly what it was, but I didn’t need them to tell me.
Drugs.
What kind, I wasn’t sure, but Ethan’s words from earlier took hold. If I take too much… My heart raced in my chest.
“Ethan—”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I-I have to. It’s the only thing that helps me.”
“You don’t have to, Ethan.”
He glanced away from me, tightening his hand around the baggie, his eyes glassy. I shook my head, got to my feet, and backed away.
He snapped his attention back to me. “Don’t go.”
“Ethan…” I shook my head, looking from his fist around the baggie to his face. Worry clouded his features. “I-I need to go.”
I didn’t wait to listen to his protests. I stormed out of the stacks, but I didn’t make it far before a hand gripped my arm and pulled me to a stop.
“I know you’re all about revenge and making us suffer, but if you’re going to hurt us, don’t fucking target Ethan.”
“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do, Cole,” I snarled at him, trying to tug my arm out of his hold. I was already pissed about Ethan’s drug issues and the way Fox had treated me. I sure as hell didn’t want to deal with Cole’s shit.
He tightened his hand, causing me to wince.
“Ethan is my friend, Rosalie. He’s got shit going on in his head that isn’t anything to do with you. And you just made it worse by sparking hope in him. If he dies, it’ll be on your head. Fix whatever you just fucking started.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and glared up at Cole. “If Ethan dies, I’ll share the blame with you, you fucking monster, because you gave him the means.”
“I gave him relief. You gave him the fucking reason. Fix. It. Rosalie.” His words were clipped with venom as he glowered at me. “And when you’re done, rethink your scheme to hurt us with your fuck boy. Ethan’s not the only one who misses you. He’s just the one who doesn’t hide it as well.”
“I’m never coming back, Cole.”
He released my arm and smirked at me as he brushed his knuckles along my cheek. “Wrong, Rosebud. We’re never letting you leave.” He leaned in, his lips tickling my ear as whispered, “Only in death will we part, and even then, I’ll search heaven and hell to find you.”
He didn’t need to elaborate further. Instead, he sauntered away, leaving me standing in the center of the aisle, my pulse roaring in my ears, his words on repeat in my head.
Fifteen
“Rosalie, when you deliver your lines, I need you to be closer to Fox.” Mr. Dennison leaned forward against the stage from the pit, his eyebrows raised. “You two had such good chemistry when you sang together for your audition. Figure out what happened to alter it and fix it. The last week with you two has been horrendous. And Fox, you should have these lines memorized by now.”
Fox nodded tightly and assessed the script he clutched.
“Let’s move on to the next scene. Rosalie, this is the kissing scene—”
“Mr. Dennison, I’d really rather not kiss Fox. He has a girlfriend. It wouldn’t be right.”
Mr. Dennison rubbed his eyes and blew out a breath.
“My girlfriend is being ridiculous. Come on, Rosie. We kiss all the time,” Fox called out.
“I’m not your damn girlfriend, you asshole,” I snarled at him so only he could hear me.
“Then why do I love you like I do?” He lifted his brows at me, his words conversational, like he was simply talking about the weather.
“Don’t mix up love and obsession. They’re two very different things, Evans.”
He let out a soft chuckle.
“Let’s just do the scene, please.” Mr. Dennison waved his hand and backed away.
I glared at Fox. He fixed his face into an emotionless mask as Mr. Dennison called action.
I delivered my lines without issue, having memorized most of them. Fox seemed to know this scene better than the others. I made sure to stand closer to Fox and really put my heart into the scene so we could get the hell out of there faster. The last thing I wanted to do was kiss him.
He reached for me and pulled me close before dipping his head down, his eyes locked on mine.
“I’m sorry about the other day, Rosie,” he murmured.
“Kiss my ass,” I whispered back.
“I’d love to, baby.” He pressed his mouth to mine, his hands tightening on my waist.
I broke the kiss off quickly, my body betraying me as heat gathered between my legs.
“Not bad. Let’s move on. That scene wasn’t as atrocious as the others. Fox, I want you to go with Mrs. Adams and work on the vocals for your big solo number. Everyone else, listen up. The local paper will be here in the coming days to take photos and run our story in the paper. We want to sell out. The money from the musical funds the theater department. And trust me folks, we need it. That being said, I need all of you here at every rehearsal from here on out. That includes a certain quarterback.” Mr. Dennison shot a look at Fox. “That’s all. Rosalie, you can leave if you want. Tomorrow, we’ll work on your solo.”
“Thanks, Mr. Dennison.” I sauntered off stage, eager to get the hell out of there. But worry coursed through me at the prospect of the paper running a story on the production. My dad was going to find out soon enough. Figuring out how to head him off needed to become my top priority.
“Rosalie. Wait!” Fox called out, trotting toward me.
I pretended like I didn’t hear him and kept walking.
“Damnit, Rosie. Wait.” He dashed in front of me, blocking my escape.
“You need to go meet with Mrs. Adams.”
“She can wait. I want to talk to you.”
“Email me.” I shoved past him, but he got in front of me again.
“We both know you won’t even look at it. Come on, Rosie. I’m sorry about the other day. I meant what I said though. I want you. Just…give me time, OK?”
“You want me to be your backburner bitch while you fuck my tormentor?” I snorted at him. “You’re crazier than I thought. Get lost.”
“It’s not like that, Rosalie. Christ, how many times do I need to tell you—”
“That’s the thing, Fox. You don’t need to tell me at all because it doesn’t matter. Go learn your lines so we don’t look like a couple tools onstage when the musical opens.”
“Does your dad know?” he asked softly.
I bristled. “No.”
“Are you going to tell him? We’re going to be in the paper, Rosie. He’s going to see it.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Oh, but it did. I needed to tell him before he was blindsided with it.
“I can be with you if you need someone—”
“I have someone,” I snapped at him. “And so do you. So piss off, Evans.”
“You’re going to feel really fucking stupid when you realize why I’m doing what I’m doing, Rosie,” Fox snapped back.
“No, because by that point, I’ll have already moved on, and you’ll just be a bad fucking memory.” I shoved him aside and walked away. If he followed me, I vowed to plant my foot between his legs. Luckily, he didn’t.
I had bigger things to be worried about. Namely, my father and Ethan.
I marched to the parking lot, my mind on Ethan since I couldn’t do shit about my dad. Dusk had settled, casting an eerie glow around. Ian had told me we didn’t need to meet after rehearsal because he was busy doing something for work, which I assumed meant selling drugs or something else equally illegal. I wanted to see Ethan. It had been eating at me since I walked away from him that day in the library. I knew choosing him was wrong, but I promised myself it wouldn’t be like that. Maybe it would all work out in the end, and I’d at least get him somehow.
In that moment, wishes seemed to be coming true because there he was, standing beside my car.
“Ethan?”
He didn’t say a word, his eyes wild. I paused, worry coursing through me. He rushed at me and wrapped his arms around my body after tugging my keys out of my hand.
“What are you doing?” I cried out.
“Ethan!” I struggled against him, but his hold tightened.
He let out a snarl as I clawed at his arms. He lifted me off my feet like I was feather-light and carried me to my car. I kicked and thrashed against him, my pulse thundering in my ears. When we got to the passenger side, he set me back on my feet and shoved me against the door, his green eyes locked on mine, his body leveled against me. His chest heaved in and out as he breathed, a muscle popping along his jaw. If I had to guess, he was pissed, an emotion that didn’t suit the sweetheart I’d come to know. Or at least thought I knew. Lord knew I’d been off the mark on all the guys.
“Shut up,” he growled as I started to open my mouth again.
I snapped it closed, shocked by his harsh words tone.
“What are we doing?” I asked softly as he grabbed my arm and opened the car door.
“Just get in the fucking car and keep your mouth closed.”
“Ethan, this isn’t like you—”
“Thing is, Rosalie, you never really got to know me. So maybe this is exactly like me.” He didn’t elaborate as he shoved me inside. “If you try to run, trust me, I’ll catch you.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat as he slammed my door closed. I watched as he walked around the front, his dark brows crinkled, his mouth turned down into a deep frown. Something was definitely wrong with him.
“Ethan,” I started again as he slid behind the wheel and started the car.
“Don’t fucking speak, Rosalie. I’m not joking,” he murmured, putting the car into gear and peeling out of the parking lot.
“I’m not joking either, you asshole!” I shouted, grinding my teeth. “Pull the car over, Ethan. You’re really scaring me. This isn’t you. You’re high or drunk or something!”
He clamped his jaws shut tightly as he sped up.
“I swear I’ll jump out,” I threatened, reaching for the handle.
He let out a dark laugh and shook his head. “Seems like a bad idea, sweetheart. Might hurt that pretty face of yours when it hits the pavement.”