“Fuck yes,” Kyan growled as Pearl’s mouth dropped open.
“What?” Tatum asked as Pearl backed up.
“What did I do?” Pearl asked, giving me the pleading doe eyes.
“Nothing, sweetheart. Not to me, anyway. But I guess you pissed off Plague here because she just picked you out.”
Tatum opened her mouth to protest and I grabbed her arm, gripping hard enough to bruise as I pulled her against me and growled into her ear for only her to hear. “Either you punch Pearl Devickers in her smug fucking face or I’ll personally beat the shit out of every guy in your little Unspeakable gang, starting with the asshole who tried to escape with you last night. Bait, wasn’t it?”
I shoved Tatum away from me and she looked how I imagined she would if I’d just pissed on her.
“Five,” I growled. “Four, three, two-”
“Sorry,” Tatum gasped before she swung her fist straight into Pearl’s face like a pro and knocked her flying into the mud.
Kyan whooped with laughter and Saint’s eyes flashed with excitement. Pearl scrambled upright with fury etched into her features as blood poured from her nose, a scream tearing from her lips as she launched herself at Tatum.
Before she could get close to our girl, Kyan stepped between them, practically snarling as he looked down at Pearl.
“Did you hear any of us say you could lay a hand on our property?” he demanded.
Pearl stumbled to a halt as she tried to rein herself in and Tatum looked like she didn’t even know what the fuck was happening. My heart was pounding with the thrill of it. Of wielding this power over her and the rest of the school too. It was intoxicating, addictive, exhilarating.
“She punched me!” Pearl screeched.
“Yeah. And she looked hot as fuck doing it, too. Doesn’t mean you can lay a hand on her though,” Kyan said casually, using his bulk to completely block Pearl’s view of Tatum.
“And that goes for the rest of you assholes,” I added in a loud voice. “She’s our girl. Which means anyone who has any ideas about trying to hurt her better forget them. Anyone considering trying to fuck her had better maintain a nice, healthy relationship with their own right hand. Because none of you have permission to even talk to her, let alone touch her, unless you want to answer to us.”
“She’s our property,” Saint added darkly. “And I will personally collect my pound of flesh from anyone here who disrespects that.”
A heavy silence fell among the crowd and Tatum looked like she was wishing the ground would just swallow her whole. But there wasn’t much chance of that. Every single eye in the surrounding students was trained on her with either hate, rage or envy.
I just hoped that Tatum hadn’t been too attached to the idea of having any friends here at Everlake Prep. Because sadly for her, I just ensured that would never happen.
I strolled forward and threw my arm around her shoulders as I directed her towards the Redwood Dining Hall.
“Looks like it’s just you and us now, Cinderella. I hope you’re not too disappointed with your not so charming princes,” I said, leaning down to speak in her ear. “Welcome to your new life in hell.”
I headed into the dining hall flanked by the Night Keepers as Freeloader and Punch opened the doors for us. Punch gave me a look of horror before quickly bowing his head and my gut knotted as I dropped my eyes to my feet.
I’d watched a documentary on training wild horses once. The mustangs fought, bit and kicked, but their new owners continued to push at them day after day. Until eventually, they dropped their heads, walked up to their master and nuzzled them. Just like that. It had looked beautiful from the outside, but maybe they knew it was the only chance of living a semi-bearable life. Or maybe their spirit had been crushed to dust and scattered to the wind. Until all that was left was obedience.
I hadn’t been an obedient child. Hell, I’d never been an obedient anything. But like those horses, I’d been corralled, tethered, caged. And there were only two choices: continue to weather the pain, or take the path of least resistance. So which was it for me? Well…
Like I said, I knew what broken looked like. I could slip into the mask of it as easily as wearing my resting bitch face. Alright, maybe not quite as easily. But in the dead of night, curled in those asswits’ bathtub, I’d realised something. I’d been devastated, brought to my knees, brought to fucking tears. But I hadn’t been broken.
I’d spent hours in the dark, looking for a crack of light. And I’d found one. A sliver. Something I could clutch onto just enough to draw me back from the brink. The one thing they all wanted from me was compliance. And yet, whether they realised it or not, they also found compliance boring. It was why they ignored the Unspeakables. It was why it pissed them off every time I dropped my eyes like a good girl and answered to their beck and call. The joy was in the breaking. So broken I would be.
But they wouldn’t get bored that easily, so I had to protect myself too. I retreated into that quiet place inside me, fleshing it out and hardening it, ensuring they couldn’t touch it. That was where I’d stay. So that once this was over, there would still be a part of me left to grow. It was like planting a daffodil bulb in the earth, keeping it safe until the winter was over. This was my winter. And survival was key.
The Night Keepers moved to their table, dropping into their seats and I waited for them to dismiss me, fixing my gaze on the ceiling. My knuckles were aching from the punch I’d landed Pearl, but the pain was a strange kind of relief after the night I’d had.
“I said- Plague!” Saint snapped and I blinked out of my stupor, turning to him. “Are you fucking deaf?”
“No,” I replied simply and his eyes narrowed.
Kyan was looking at me with a taut frown and I knew it was bothering him that I wasn’t talking back anymore. That bullshit he’d pulled in his room to get a rise out of me had proved that much. He wanted me alive and kicking. Torture was no fun for the torturer if their victim didn’t react.
If I kept this up, I estimated that they’d tire of me after a week or two. Maybe they’d loosen my leash and let me go back to my dorm if I bored them enough. It was the saddest fucking plan I’d ever come up with, but right now it was all I had.
“Go and fetch Bait,” Saint snarled, pointing at the table of Unspeakables.
That got my attention. My heart jolted and I wet my lips as I headed across the room towards my friend, hating myself for ever asking him to run with me. If they punished him, it was on me. And of course they were going to punish him.
He rose from his seat before I even reached him, walking toward me with creases in his brow. He had bloodshot eyes like he hadn’t slept, like he’d been up all night waiting for this moment to come. And now it had and I was so very fucking sorry for it.
“Bait, I-” I started but he shook his head firmly.
“Don’t blame yourself,” he said gently. “You gave me a chance, Tatum. I owe you everything for that.”
I nodded, not feeling any less shitty about it as I turned to walk at his side in solidarity. An air of excitement filled the room as the rest of the students perked up to watch and I tried to ignore the fluttering of my heart.
We slowed to a halt in front of the Night Keepers’ table and it felt like everyone in the room was holding their breath as they waited for what was gonna happen next.
“Did you bring it?” Blake demanded of Bait.
He nodded, reaching into his blazer pocket and taking out an electric razor. He placed it down on the table and Kyan leaned back in his chair with a smirk, settling in for the show.
My heart beat wildly as I thought of that razor being used on me. But they wouldn’t take my hair, surely? Saint had said himself he didn’t want me looking like shit.
“Pick it up, Plague,” Saint commanded in a cool tone.
I swallowed as I reached for it, taking the surprisingly heavy lump of machinery into my grip.
“Now kneel before our girl, Bait,” he hissed and Bai
t dropped to his knees without a moment’s hesitation.
My heart pounded out of tune as I stared down at him. But this was okay. Shaving a guy’s head wasn’t the end of the world. He’d survive it.
“Slice a nice little line down the middle, baby,” Kyan instructed and I jerked around to look at him in alarm.
I opened my mouth to protest when Bait said, “Do it,” through his teeth.
I clenched my jaw as Kyan laughed and Blake banged his fist on the table, starting up a thumping tune as everyone joined in around the hall.
Bait lifted his head to look up at me and guilt clutched my heart.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed before turning the razor on so a loud buzzing filled the air.
As gently as possible, I pushed it through the middle of his thick copper hair, running it right over the crown of his head and all the way down the back. The loose hair tumbled around him, the bald strip glaring up at me and making me grimace while laughter clashed against my ears from around the room.
My hands were shaking, my ears were ringing and I was struck with the desire to be sick. I knew that it wasn’t really me doing this to him but it was my hands, my actions causing my friend to become the centre of ridicule for the entire school and shame washed through me as I was forced to endure it.
“Up,” Saint commanded and I frowned as Bait got to his feet, bowing low to the Night Keepers. Anger roiled in my gut. He looked ridiculous and that was just what they wanted. Him humiliated.
Bait took the razor back from me, tucking it into his pocket as the laughter continued filling the air.
“If you ever try to run from us again, it won’t be your hair that gets cut,” Saint hissed. “Do you understand me?”
Bait nodded quickly, his cheeks turning bright red as every eye in the room fixed on him.
“Dismissed,” Saint snapped and he ran back to the Unspeakables’ table without a backwards glance.
I turned to look at them as anger rose in me on behalf of my friend. A stream of curses came to my lips and were about to pour from them and break right through the mask I’d been hiding behind. Kyan sat up straighter in his chair as he realised I was about to go off like a damn rocket and I choked back the words at the last second. Swallowing them down down down into the very pit of my stomach.
Fucking jumped up, heartless assholes. I’d beat every one of your heads in with a mallet.
I dropped my gaze to my feet and shut my eyes too because this was harder than I’d thought. Wearing a bitch mask was way easier than wearing a little bitch mask. I forced my warring emotions back into that safe space inside me and my breathing started to even out.
It’s not worth it, Tatum. You’ve got to let them get bored of you.
“Sit down,” Saint ordered, pointing to the seat in front of him.
My brows arched and he had to say it again before I moved and sat in the seat he’d pointed out. I did not wanna be stuck looking at the kings of shitbagsville while I ate.
“I’ve ordered your food for you,” Saint said and my jaw started to grind.
Kyan gave me that hopeful look again and I dropped my hands into my lap, digging my nails into my palms. The pain gave me something to focus on while I kept my tongue in check and nodded vaguely, making Kyan sigh in irritation.
Our table was served first and they all had predictable meals placed in front of them. Blake with his syrup-swamped pancakes and cherries, Saint with his eggs and avocado on toast, and Kyan with his fried everything.
My plate was put in front of me last and I looked down at the single leaf of lettuce staring up at me. My lips pursed and hell, this shit was getting harder and harder already. How was I gonna manage not blowing up like a volcano for weeks?
And what if they didn’t get bored? What if they kept this up so long that I snapped and showed them just how unbroken I was after all.
Gah, I wanna stuff this lettuce leaf down Saint Memphis’s throat!
Kyan snorted a laugh and Blake grinned darkly, placing his knife and fork down as he waited to see how I was gonna react.
Saint smiled, viciously slicing his toast into two perfect halves and slicing through his eggs and avocado in the process. “Eat up, Plague. We wouldn’t want you going hungry, now would we?”
I snatched up my lettuce leaf, tearing a piece off it with my teeth and Kyan licked his lips at my savagery. I simply couldn’t help it in that moment. Deprive me of anything, anything but food. Hanger was real. And I was it.
“Use your knife and fork, Plague. You’re not an animal,” Saint demanded and god help me, I wanted to punch him as hard as I’d punched Pearl. No, harder. Definitely fucking harder.
Keep your cool, Tatum, dammit!
I picked up my knife and fork with a false smile and started cutting into the remains of the lettuce leaf.
I didn’t know how long I was going to manage keeping myself in check, I already felt like a kernel left on the fire. I wasn’t built to comply. But even if I pulled this off and they got sick of me, the best I could probably hope for was joining the Unspeakables and living on the outskirts of the community for the rest of the year. And that was the absolute best case scenario. But it still had to be better than this.
***
I sat out by the lake after dinner, throwing pebbles at the water and watching the ripples stir the still surface. I’d stashed a change of workout clothes in my bag after I’d gone back to my dorm this morning so I didn’t have to go to The Temple any time soon. My black leggings and black and white crop top had been perfect for the run I’d taken to expend the searing energy in my limbs.
The fact that they’d gone through my bag last night was something I didn’t wanna dwell on too much. But I was hoping they’d just swiped out the top layer of clothes for me and left the bag alone. Because if they’d found my dad’s gun, surely they would have said something? And then there were my letters to Jessica…but I didn’t see why they’d be interested in those. I had ones in there from her too and I cared about them even more. They were little pieces of her I could carry everywhere with me. And I didn’t want the Night Keepers’ greasy hands on them.
After a day of being ignored, ridiculed and humiliated, I was starting to wonder if I really could handle biting my tongue much longer. It had only been a day and I was fit to bursting with rage. Part of me was happy about that. It meant the Night Keepers hadn’t left any permanent damage on me. And that had to be cause for celebration. Or it just meant there was a lot more of me to break, depending on which way you looked at it.
The most excruciating thing of all, was the lack of food. For every meal today, I’d been served with a single lettuce leaf and a glass of water. And each time, the Night Keepers looked at me like they were waiting for me to speak out, to refuse it, to demand a full meal. But I bit my tongue and chomped through the tasteless crunch of lettuce like a pet rabbit. By dinner, I even thanked Saint for my wonderful meal. That might have been overkill come to think of it. But he’d frowned like I was pissing him right off so I hoped he was getting the message.
A run had probably been a bad idea. I was feeling a bit light-headed. But I wasn’t going to survive a few weeks of this if I didn’t have an outlet for my rage.
Saint hadn’t given me any direction after dinner, and I’d decided I wasn’t going to return to The Temple until they beckoned me. I didn’t wanna be stuck in their company for more hours than was absolutely necessary. But I imagined they’d soon come up with more creative ways to torture me. So this was just the quiet before the storm.
I still didn’t have my phone back from Mr Monroe so I had no idea what time it was. But as I thought of it, the memory of his offer suddenly struck me like a heart attack.
I was on my feet before I’d even really made the decision, quickening my pace to a run until I was flat out sprinting in the direction of the Cypress Gym. How had it taken me this freaking long to remember his offer? After everything that had happened last night, I’d completely forgotten about it.
But now, holy shit, I had an ally that could actually damn help me!
I raced up the wooden steps that led into the gym, pushing the glass doors open and jogging into the corridor. An open door to my left gave me a view into the huge gym and I hunted the space for Monroe; there were a few students working out, their machines looking out over the incredible Olympic sized pool through a glass window at the far end of the room. The state of the art equipment was fitted with screens and not even the Plague walking in made anyone take notice.
I spotted Monroe marching out of a room to my right and an actual smile ripped into my face.
“Sir!” I hurried toward him and he offered me a scowl, shouldering the gym bag he was carrying.
“You’re late, Rivers. Don’t waste my fucking time.”
“No, wait.” I caught his arm, squeezing tightly and giving him an anxious look. All of my hopes were pinned on him in that moment. He could be the answer to my prayers.
“I don’t have my phone. I didn’t know the time.”
His brows knitted together and he nodded stiffly, reaching into his pocket and taking my phone from it. He held it out for me and I took it with greedy fingers, muttering a thanks.
“Come on then,” he growled, turning around and leading me back towards the room he’d vacated.
I hurried to follow him, my heart thumping a whole new tune as he led me inside and the door swung shut behind me.
Training mats were laid out on the floor and a row of expensive looking gear was hanging on the walls. From shields to gloves, hand straps and fighting sticks. On the far side of the large room was a boxing ring with a row of belts displayed on the wall behind it.
Monroe tossed me a pair of gloves and I strapped them on, relaxing at the feel of something so familiar to me. It had been a while since I’d trained, but the familiar keen rush of blood to my muscles swept through me and it felt like awakening from the depths of a nightmare.
For the longest moment I just felt…good. Ecstatic even.
Monroe picked up one of the padded strike shields and held it in front of him as he moved to the centre of the mat.
Kings of Quarantine: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep Book 1) Page 28