by Lindsey Iler
They inch closer, except for Marek. He backs away, leaning against one of the columns dividing us from the rest of the club. His arms cross over his chest, and he relaxes into his position. No one utters a single word, allowing me time to take each of them in.
“Aren’t you sick of playing these games?” I try to stand, but Breaker’s tattooed fingers press into my shoulder, keeping me in place. “You’ve got to be kidding with me, right? You can’t keep me here against my will.”
“No one’s keeping you anywhere you don’t want to be, Palmer.” Marek gestures to the crowded club. “You’re free to go.”
I stand, more than happy to escape these guys. Being in their presence is enough to shake my every nerve. Their body language makes me feel small and unworthy. Four boys who are larger than life, that’s what they are.
Marek’s hand wraps around my bicep, halting my escape to freedom. I turn my head, locking onto him, and I realize it’s a big ruse. I don’t have my freedom anymore. I belong to him. He knows it, and now I do, too.
“Don’t forget this.” He offers me my phone, and I tuck it into my pocket. “When you need me, which you will”— his tongue pokes out of his mouth, accentuating the perfect curve of his lips— “text me. Call me. Send a fucking carrier pigeon for all I care, but I will be there.”
“Why? What am I to you?” I swallow, lifting my chin to feign confidence. His arm muscles twitch under his skin, and his grip on my bicep loosens as his smile tightens.
“Something to play with.” He pushes off the wood column, putting his body between me and the boys. As one, they stand, making them appear to be a united front.
“But why?” I shake my head, yanking away from him. “Why me?”
“When you need to know, you will.”
“Cryptic messages aren’t really my thing.” I challenge, stepping forward and pressing my chest into his. My hand lands in the small space between us. Hidden from everyone, my fingers inch towards the one thing they shouldn’t.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Palmer Weston. A boy like me will shatter every part of your heart.”
“Who said anything about hearts, Marek?” Standing in front of him makes me a little crazy. I know I shouldn’t, but I place my flat palm against the front of his jeans, feeling the heat of his erection against my hand. “What this is has nothing to do with our hearts. For all I know you have a hollow chest.”
He grabs my hand, forcing me to stop touching him. “Like I said, Palmer, you’ll call when you need us.”
Like hell I will. Attempting to play their own game against them, I’ve ended up on the losing end once again. The idea that being aggressive would play in my hand was deceiving. These boys don’t care what kind of tricks and tools I use because, at the end of the day, they know they’ll always be stronger, faster, and bigger.
At that, I push forward, knowing damn well the four of them are watching me disappear into the crowd. If it’s possible, the club is more packed than when Delaney and I got here earlier. At the thought, I search the dance floor, expecting to find her grinding up on the guy.
She’s nowhere to be found.
The blood rushes into my ears, making the music muffled and distorted. I dive right into the middle of the dance floor, scanning every face to find my best friend. Twenty minutes later, and she’s still missing.
“Where in the hell are you?” I ask as I scan the nameless faces.
A grown man steps in front of me, attempting to wrap me in his arms. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Back off!” I shout, but it’s pointless with the volume of the music. No one could hear me screaming. I shove through the sweaty bodies, gasping for air when I break through them.
At the thought, I circle the perimeter of the club, ducking my head into several VIP sections. When I don’t find her safely tucked away in one of them, I pull my phone out to send her a text.
Me: Where are you at? I’m ready to go.
The three blinking dots pop up but go radio silent soon after.
What the fuck?
My heart beats double time, and an instant dizzy spell hits me. I lean on the nearest table to steady myself. It doesn’t help. My mind has been trained to think of worst-case scenarios, and right about now, Delaney is ass up in a broom closet, surrounded by a group of thirty-year-old men.
I click the green phone on my screen to call her. It rings once then goes to voice mail.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” I press my hand to my forehead, circling around to devise a plan.
On the last spin, the hidden corner where I left Marek and the boys screams at me. I shuffle over, not ready to admit I need them, but not willing to let Delaney be in trouble without me doing everything I can to make sure she’s okay.
“What did I say, boys? I knew she’d come back.” Marek jabs his thumb at me.
Breaker jumps to his feet, hopping over the table and bending down to check on me like a loving friend. But we aren’t friends. “Take a deep breath, sweetheart. What happened?”
“I . . . I . . .” I wave my hand in front of my face to calm myself. “I don’t know what happened.”
Marek pushes Breaker out of the way, holding me at arm’s length. “Palmer, snap out of it. What’s going on?”
“Delaney . . . I . . .” I check over my shoulder, completely lost in my own mind.
“Spit it out, or else we can’t help you.” Byron is now standing with Breaker and Marek. They have a strange worry written on their faces that I don’t quite understand.
“I can’t find her.” I shake my head, begging for the clouds to clear.
“Who were you here with?” Marek asks, checking over his shoulder.
“Delaney. She met a guy here. She’s been talking with him on the internet. I don’t even know his name. I let my best friend prance off with a fucking stranger. How could I be so stupid?” I rub the tension knotting my forehead.
“Dixon” — Marek yanks him forward— “track her phone. Now.”
“You can do that?” I question, looking at Dixon. Of course, he can.
Dixon pulls out his phone and starts clicking away.
“He changed your passcode. What do you think?” Marek’s lips pinch together, showing me how exasperated he is by my question. What I should know by now is these boys can do whatever they want.
“She’s still in the club, at least her phone is.” Dixon shows us his screen. A green dot blinks across it, proving his words.
“Let’s split up. Breaker, come with me.” Marek points to Byron and Dixon. “You two go the opposite direction. Don’t let a single motherfucking inch of this place go unturned.”
The four of them set out like a damn S.W.A.T. team. I grab Marek’s arm, and he turns, glaring at me. His features soften as he takes me in. A girl with tear stained cheeks and red rimmed eyes is hard not to acknowledge.
“What about me?” I ask.
“Stay here.”
“Marek! She’s my best friend.”
“I don’t care what happens, Palmer, you stay the fuck behind me. If she's in trouble, I can’t help her and make sure you’re safe at the same time. You’ll win, so don’t make me choose.” He grabs my hand and storms forward with Breaker flanking him and me trailing behind.
“What makes you think she’s in trouble?” I yell, knowing he may not hear me over the music. “Maybe she’s making out with the guy in the corner somewhere, and I’m completely overreacting.”
Breaker turns before Marek gets the chance. His hands rest on my shoulders, his touch somehow soothing and comforting. “Guys don’t come here for a kiss, if you get my drift. Half of these assholes believe they have the right to your body if they say the word.”
“So, she could be in real trouble then?” I swallow, the reality setting in.
“Not when we’re around, Palmer.” Marek rubs my arm. “Now, stop asking fucking questions, and let us find your friend.”
I do just that, snapping my mouth shut, even when I ha
ve a million questions. When I’m nervous, I can’t stop overthinking things. What will happen when we find her? Are we all in danger? What do these four boys plan on doing? Is there even a plan?
“Upstairs.” Marek points to the balcony. We walk up the stairs like a team, but we aren’t. They’re a team, but being part of their thing excites me.
Is this how Reed felt with them?
Breaker leans over the bar and whispers in the pixie-like bartender’s ear. She smirks at him, whispering something back. Whatever she says earns her a kiss on the cheek.
“She’s in the room reserved for legacies at the academy.” Breaker places his hand on Marek’s chest, stopping him from storming inside. “It’s Declan Dumas. That’s the guy she’s with.”
“Who’s Declan Dumas?” By the look on Marek’s face, I’d say that isn’t a good thing.
“He has a habit of date raping girls. He’s laid low and quiet for some time because of a few allegations. He’s was a legacy at Glass Heart.”
“He’s untouchable then.” I roll my eyes. This boys will be boys culture on campus is getting out of hand.
“To most people, but not to me.” Marek pushes past Breaker and me and shoves open the unmarked door.
Breaker runs behind him, and a commotion ensues. A few guys filter out of the room just as Dixon and Byron rush inside. Unable to stay still because I damn well know Delaney is inside, I walk through the opening.
Marek’s attention is homed in on two guys sitting in front of him. He looms over them like a lion deciding which zebra to take out first.
Delaney is in the back corner with Breaker, his bomber jacket draped over her shoulder. He tries to comfort her. Black streaks cover her cheeks. He hands her over to me, nodding before he joins Marek. Byron closes the door behind us, and Dixon creates a barrier between Delaney and me, and the rest of them.
“Who the fuck do you think you are showing up here, not to mention hooking up with one of our own?”
“Isn’t that the perk of the academy, coming back to try out the new recruits?” The guy who must be Declan assesses Byron. Clearly, he knows his history with my sister. Like he senses me watching them, Declan’s anger turns to me. “You look just like her. It’s like looking at a ghost.”
“Fuck off, Declan,” Marek spits. “She doesn’t exist to you.”
“Oh, someone hot for Reed two point oh, huh?” Declan runs his fingers through his hair. “Is she as sweet?”
Byron’s hands clench at his sides, proving something I didn’t think was true. His feelings for my sister were honest.
“Be careful with these boys.” Declan looks at each of them individually. “They may look like heroes right now, but they’re capable of nothing but being the villain.” He stands with his crony beside him, pushing through the wall of power-hungry boys.
Once it’s the six of us, it’s like the thick, warm air is released from the room, and we take a deep breath.
Delaney whimpers, tucking her face into my body to hide. I pull her away and hold her out to check her over. Finger-sized bruises cover her neck, and her dress is ripped.
“Do we need to take you to the hospital? Call the police?” I ask, clenching my stomach. My nerves are a wreck, reminding me how bad this could be.
“No, they got here in time.” She sobs, and like a weight is pressing down on her, she slides to the floor. Not going to the police seems like a bad idea.
Breaker swoops in and picks her up, cradling her in his arms. He whispers in her ear, and she leans into him.
“Let’s get her out of here,” Breaker instructs, heading for the door. Dixon and Byron follow behind, watching the club as they move through the crowds.
“Come on, Palmer. Let’s go.”
My legs work double time to keep up with Marek’s long stride. He seems to be on a damn mission with how fast he’s pushing through the crowd.
Byron is shaking the hand of the bouncer when we walk out into the fresh air.
“Dixon is pulling around now.”
Delaney moans. Wrapped in Breaker’s arms, she looks hauntingly peaceful in sleep.
“I’ll pull around and you can put her in our car.” I grab Delaney’s keys from my purse, but they’re yanked from my hand.
“Not a chance in hell.” Marek slips the keyring around his finger and twirls it. “They’ll meet us at our place. I’ll drive you up there.”
“We will?” Byron steps into the conversation, clear uncertainty in his tone that mirrors my own.
“You will,” Marek barks. “These two don’t need to be alone tonight.”
“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.” I reach for the keys, only to have them dangled above me. Marek knows damn well, with his height, I’d need a ladder to reach them.
“This has nothing to do with your capability of caring for yourself. Now, move your little ass along beside me or else I’ll drag you.” Marek turns away and starts down the dark sidewalk. “Palmer. Now.”
Breaker and Dixon giggle like children who’ve gotten away with pulling a prank on their mom.
“You better go, Palmer.” Breaker nods his chin forward.
“He will actually drag you. That isn’t an empty threat,” Dixon adds.
“You four are pains in my ass.” I point at Breaker. “And if you hurt a single hair on that girl’s head, I’ll rip your balls out through your throat. You got me?”
My threat has Dixon rubbing his hands together in excitement. “Feisty, aren’t we?”
“We got her, Palmer. She’s safe.” Breaker runs his tattooed hand over her light hair. “I prefer my girls conscious anyway.” His rhythmic laugh somehow eases my mind.
I quicken my pace to catch up with Marek. As I turn the corner into the dark parking garage, I’m yanked forward. My head hits the brick wall, creating spots in my vision. A body slams against mine, putting enough pressure on me that I have to remind myself to breathe.
Fear should be creeping in, panic settling into every part of my mind that’s been taught to be scared of those bigger than myself, but it never comes. It is wiped away the moment a nose runs along my throat, inhaling the scent of my perfume.
My hand reaches up, and I pull back the hood on the faceless aggressor. Marek looks at me as if I’m already his. He’s bold, and there’s something in his eyes that soothes parts of me I don’t understand yet.
“Why didn’t you fight me off?” he asks as my fingers filter through the length of his hair.
“I wasn’t scared. I knew it was you.”
“I don’t care, Palmer.” He shakes his head and pushes off the brick wall. “You should have fought me off, dug in deep, and drawn blood.” The way his hands clench at his sides and the tic in his jaw has me reaching out to trace the tight skin. “Don’t.” He slaps my hand away. “That could be you, what happened in there, and I need to know you can handle yourself.”
“You were the one who pinned me against the wall and ran his face along my skin, like you wanted to taste me. And now you’re mad at me?” I shake my head, exasperated by his games. “And what is with the protective change of heart?”
“That’s the whole fucking point, Palmer. You sunk right into me like quicksand, zero fight in your body. I need you to fight me.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Marek?” I stare at him, stunned by the whiplash behavior he’s exhibited tonight.
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Get in the fucking car.” He clicks the key fob until the lights on Delaney’s car blink. He stands a few yards from the driver’s side door. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”
We stand shoulder to shoulder, looking at her custom pink Mini Cooper.
“You’re going to look goofy as fuck. Now, do you regret not letting me drive us?” I head to the passenger side and open the door, slipping inside.
The driver door opens, and Marek bends down to gawk at me. “Did she have to have it painted this color?” he says as he slides in behind the wheel. H
is knees are almost pinned to his chest.
I reach around him and push the button to move his seat back. “Is that better?”
Nothing is funnier than watching Marek stretch out his legs to find there’s still not enough room.
“This is a toy car. Fit for an actual Barbie doll.”
“Want me to drive?” I freeze with my seat belt in my hand. He watches me release it, expecting him to allow me.
He reaches past me and grabs the belt to secure it around my body. “There isn’t a world where I’ll let you drive me anywhere. Not even in this Barbie car.” He laughs, shaking his head. The easiness to his laugh has my stomach fluttering.
Why is that so damn hot? And why am I even having these thoughts? This is the guy who touched between my legs in class to fuck with me. The same guy who cornered me in the library and threatened me.
“Don’t dwell too hard on your internal thoughts, Palmer. They’ll only lead you astray.”
“What do you think I should do then?” I ask.
“I don’t know shit, but one thing I do know is you try really hard to be perfect. Never a hair out of place. Clothes perfectly pressed. You act the way you believe the world needs you to, but I know different. There’s a siren inside of you, constantly blaring to be heard.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I stare out the window into the darkness of the night.
“The way you hissed in a breath when I touched you here in class.” He runs a finger along the inside of my thigh, gaining my complete attention. “The moment you leaned into me in the parking garage. You aren’t made of glass, not all of you at least, so maybe you should get to living.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” I close my legs on his hand, and he pulls back, turning down the winding road leading to the glass house.
“You’re right, but I do know myself.” He parks behind a large black SUV, turns off the car, and shifts in his seat to address me. “Don’t let me in, Palmer. You’re going to want to, I can promise you that, but all I’ll end up doing is hurting you.”
Marek opens the car door, leaving me with far too much to think about.