A satisfied smile spreads over her mouth. “It was worth it,” she sneers before being led away.
“Let me help,” I say, returning my attention to Zeta. She has one arm slung around Powell’s shoulders, and she’s hobbling, pain evident in her grimace. Both her knees and her shins are cut, blood seeping down her legs.
“Don’t touch me.” Her eyes flash with hurt. “We’re not friends anymore, and I don’t need or want your help. You’ve done more than enough.”
I deserve that. I truly do. But it still cuts like a bitch.
“Fuck, her face is seriously messed up,” Lopez says, appearing at my side.
“Shut the fuck up,” Luc says before I’ve had the chance to. “This is all your fault for riling Valeria up.”
“Da fuck you say to me, boy?” Lopez whirls on him, but I grab Young, shoving him behind me as I act as a barrier between him and the dickhead. Powell escorts Zeta across the yard, and she’s limping the whole time.
I eyeball Lopez, working overtime trying to contain my rage. “He may be out of line, but he’s not mistaken.” I grind my teeth hard, and my jaw clenches painfully. “Valeria has it in for Zeta, and we all know it’s because you want in her pants. You need to fix this.”
“How the fuck is this my problem?”
“It will be your problem if she goes near Zeta again because I won’t hold back next time.”
Lopez leans against the fence, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “I’ll get her to play nice,” he says after a few beats. “But it’ll cost you.”
“Name your price. It’s yours.”
A cunning look slides over his features. Stepping up to me, he grins. “The Fender, man.” All the blood drains from my face. “Give me your guitar, and I swear your girl won’t have any more problems with V.”
“You can’t even play,” I murmur, blood thrumming in my ears.
“I want to learn. How hard can it be? If you taught yourself how to play, it’ll be a cakewalk,” he arrogantly adds.
“Ryder, no.” Luc tugs on my elbow. “Zeta wouldn’t want you to do that.”
“Butt out, Young.” I shove his hand off. Pinning dark eyes on Lopez, I force my frustration aside as I enter into negotiations. “Both you and Valeria will leave her alone. No more leering, no more sleazy comments, and you keep your hands to yourself. Valeria will refrain from even looking sideways at Zeta. No taunting, no bullying, no physical assaults.” Lopez nods, and I don’t trust the sly smile playing on his lips. “For as long as she’s in here.” I tack on the end, because I’m not always going to be around.
“I feel like I’d be justified in asking for your firstborn too.” Lopez smirks. “Anything else, or we have a deal?” He spits on his hand and holds it out to me.
“Valeria quits hitting on me.”
Lopez laughs but his jaw is tense as he nods his agreement.
I spit on my palm and we shake on it.
I’ve just made a deal with the devil and I’ve a feeling it’s going to come back and bite me in a big way.
“Why the hell does Lopez have your guitar?” Zeta demands, the following day, standing over me as I face the TV in the common room, attempting to pretend that my heart isn’t destroyed inside my chest listening to that asshole butchering my baby as he tries to play.
“Never mind that. How badly are you hurt?” I inquire.
I was happy to see her walking into school this morning, grateful she hadn’t broken any bones in the nasty fall, but that happiness was short-lived when I took one look at her face. Her nose is swollen to twice its size, and her skin is littered with bruises and cuts. Her lips are cracked and dried, and there’s a small cut on her bottom lip which looks sore. Scabs and bruising cover her knees and lower legs too.
Rage like I haven’t felt in years swelled up inside me, and I sat on my hands to resist the urge to hit something or someone.
“I ache all over, and Frankenstein’s bride was staring out of the mirror at me this morning, but I’ll live. Now stop deflecting, and answer my question,” she demands.
“No.”
“No?” She plants her hands on her slim hips.
“No.” I elongate the word for extra effect, arching a brow. “We’re not friends anymore, remember?”
“You decided that. Not me.”
“You didn’t seem unhappy about that yesterday.”
“Because I was fucking hurting! And I’m not just talking about my obvious injuries.”
The mournful look on her face causes me actual physical pain.
I want to take it all back.
To fess up and tell her the truth, but that little voice in my ear reminds me of how destructive I am, of how I always mess things up, and it renews my resolve.
I harden my heart, silently begging her forgiveness as I twist my lips into a sneer. “Whatever. Like I care.”
Her nostrils flare, and her eyes darken as she glares at me. “I can’t believe I ever fell for the nice-guy act. You’re just like every other asshole I’ve ever known. Only interested in one thing, but you were just cleverer about it.” Her words cut a line straight through my heart, but I school my features into a disinterested expression, ensuring she has no clue how much it kills me to hear her proclaim what we shared as fake when it’s the most real thing I’ve ever known. “I don’t ever want to speak to you again.”
She storms off, and I watch her leave with a lump of stone in my chest in place of where my heart should be.
“Man, you’re totally fucking up,” Young supplies, shaking his head. “She’s going to figure it out, and she’s gonna be so mad at you.”
“Not now,” I bark, rubbing a tense spot between my brows. “You know why I did it, and I have no regrets. She might hate me, but at least she’s protected.”
“I hope you’re right, dude, and that it’s worth it.”
The next few weeks are some of the worst of my life. Without Zeta and my Fender, I’ve lost the will to live.
Flashbacks and nightmares assault me on an almost daily basis, and I’m sinking back into dangerous territory. It’s a timely reminder there’s no long-term solution to my problems. This is something I will live with for the rest of my life, and every time something traumatic or upsetting happens in my life, I risk falling into that black hole again.
Dr. Blaufeld has noticed, and when I wouldn’t open up, he went digging on his own. Powell clearly tattled about the guitar and Zeta, but I keep my lips sealed as he attempts to coax me into talking. There’s no way I’m telling him what went down because blabbing to authority figures never ends well. I know better.
Zeta’s face is almost fully healed, and Lopez has remained true to his word, ensuring she’s left alone, so that provides me with some comfort at times when Zeta glares at me like she hates me most in the world.
To have had a shot with the girl of my dreams ripped from me in such a cruel way is also a timely reminder.
That I don’t deserve happiness.
That I will always be lonely and alone.
That I’m stupid to harbor any hope because I already know what fate has in store for me.
But none of that could prepare me for what I learn next.
Zeta’s been shooting daggers in my direction for weeks, which is how I notice the difference almost immediately. She’s gone from glaring at me any chance she gets to avoiding looking at me, at all costs. Both reactions hurt, but at least with the former, I still got to look at her beautiful face. Now, she hangs her head, avoids the common room like the plague, and flees the library with the first book her hand lands on before I’ve had time to even glance in her direction.
The second strange instance occurs a few days later when Lopez hands my guitar back to me. “Why?” I ask, suspicion underscoring my tone.
“Relax, dude.” He clamps a hand down on my shoulder. “I won’t r
enege on the deal. I’m just bored with it. I know how much you love it, man, so have at it. It’s yours. Knock yourself out.”
I’m suspicious as fuck of his motives, but I’ve missed my baby too much to challenge it, so I head to my corner and play for hours until my fingers bleed and my free time is up.
That night, for the first night in months, I sleep without interruption.
I’m in a fucking brilliant mood the next day after school, because my heart is lighter now I’ve got my guitar back; plus, I’ve decided to come clean to Zeta. I only have a few more months left in here, and I don’t want to waste it deliberately ignoring her when I crave her company so much. The threat posed by Lopez and Valeria has passed, and there’s no impediment to our friendship.
Except for the truth.
I expect she’ll be mad, but once she’s calmed down, she’ll realize I did it all, said it all, to keep her safe.
I’m planning on approaching her in the common room after our physical activity hour has ended. I’m whistling, with my hands shoved into my pockets, as I stroll across the yard toward the guys. The hot August sun is gloriously warm on my arms, and I’m feeling on top of the world. I’m nervous about Zeta’s reaction, but I trust in our bond, and I know we can reclaim what we had. That fact, and the fact I can almost taste freedom, has buoyed my spirits in a way I haven’t felt in ages.
Lopez, Torres, and Kelly are in a huddle, talking and laughing as I approach. Kelly reaches over, slapping Lopez on the back. “You the man, bruh.”
The second they see me, they stop talking, trading knowing glances at one another. “Sup?” I ask with a frown.
“Nothing, dude.” Lopez’s grin is smug in the extreme, and goose bumps sprout on my arms.
“What were you talking about?” Lopez purses his lips, but he’s struggling to contain his smile. Torres and Kelly exchange amused grins. “What the fuck is it?” I snap, my patience stretched thin.
Kelly coughs, shooting Lopez a fake apologetic smile. “Did you seriously think he’d just hand back your Fender for nothing?”
“What the hell are you saying?” A line of sweat coasts down my spine, and I just know I’m not going to like this.
“Zeta must really have a thing for you.” Kelly smirks. Bile swims up my throat, and my stomach twists into painful knots, as my mind goes somewhere I’d rather it didn’t.
“Or she has a thing for Lopez’s cock,” Torres says, sniggering.
All the blood leaches from my face. “What the fuck did you do?” I push my face into Lopez’s, and a vein throbs in my neck as fury trundles through my veins, pumping me full of testosterone.
“Dude, chill.” He holds up his palms. “It was all her idea, so if you want to point the finger of blame, you can point it at her.”
“What was her idea?” I shout. I know I’m playing into his hands, but I’m beyond the point of caring. I just need to know.
“She said she’d blow me if I gave you back your guitar.”
I stagger back as if he’s just sucker-punched me. All the air flees my lungs, and pain smashes into my chest, making mincemeat of my heart. “She followed through?” I’ve no idea how my voice manages to sound so restrained. Not when I want to pound my fist into his conceited face.
“Hells yeah.” He rubs a hand over his crotch, and I’m sickened to see the bulge tenting his shorts. “Baby doll sucked me good too, and she swallows like a pro. I would’ve fucked her, but I don’t want to get the clap. Val would cut my cock off if I gave her an STD.”
I slam my fist into his face, enormously satisfied when blood spurts from his nose and he stumbles back, falling to the ground, caught completely unawares. Then I jump on him, pummeling his face and his body with blow after blow, easily swatting Torres and Kelly away as they attempt to drag me off him, fueled by an aggression I haven’t felt in years. Vaguely, I hear a whistle sounding in the background, but I’m lost to the rage, and I keep at it, hitting him over and over through the red haze coating my eyes.
Someone tackles me to the ground, and I lash out, arms and legs flailing as I shout obscenities at Lopez. “I’ll fucking kill you if you ever touch her again! I’ll gut you, you motherfucking asshole! I won’t stop until—”
“Ryder!” Powell slaps me hard on the cheek, and the stinging pain brings me back to the moment. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she asks, shaking her head, a look of disappointment etched on her face. “You’re on the home stretch, boy! For your sake, I hope you haven’t inflicted any serious injury.” Watson hauls me up off the ground, roughly cuffing my hands behind my back.
My eyes lower to the ground, and I suck in a breath as my gaze skims over Lopez. He’s out cold although it’s hard to tell because both his eyes are swollen shut and blood covers most every inch of skin on his face. His shirt is stained with so much blood you can’t tell it’s white. Torres and Kelly look at me with a mix of fear and respect in their eyes. The assembled crowd starts to break up, and my head whips sideways, as if pulled by an invisible force.
My eyes lock onto Zeta’s, and I read every emotion on her naked face.
But it’s too late.
I’m sickened and disgusted at what she’s done, and the heated stare I level in her direction conveys all that and more.
A tear trickles out of the corner of her eye as I’m escorted past her in handcuffs, but I’m numb to it. Anger and rage have done a number on my insides, and I’m immune to her baleful eyes and her pleading expression.
Whatever we had is over before it’s even begun.
CHAPTER 10
Zeta
I have no one to blame for my current predicament but myself, yet it doesn’t make things any easier to swallow. I knew it would come back to haunt me, but I still did it. After Luc told me everything Ryder had done to protect me, I was overwhelmed with emotion, and so consumed with love for him, that all I could think about was getting his beloved guitar back. I still can’t believe he traded it in exchange for my safety. No one has ever done anything like that for me before and it blew me away.
I spent a couple days wondering how best to approach this, but I had nothing to offer Lopez except my body. There’s no way I was giving the douche my virginity, but I knew Ryder had told him I had the clap, so I used that to my advantage, knowing he’d knock my offer to fuck him on the head but ask me to blow him instead.
It’s not like I wanted to do it, because I’m nauseated every time I think of it, but it was the only way to get Ryder’s Fender back, so I swallowed my pride, and my distaste, and dropped to my knees for him.
I was strangely numb the whole time, successfully blocking out what I was doing, which was the only way I was able to do it. I’d seen Mom do it enough times to know how it needed to be done, but I hate that the memory of that first is forever tarnished for me.
It’s definitely not my proudest moment, and despite the fact Lopez went back on his word and blabbed to Ryder, I’d still do it again, because it means Ryder isn’t without his guitar, the one thing helping him keep his sanity in here.
Ryder has been placed in solitary for a week. Thankfully, Lopez didn’t suffer any broken bones or serious injuries, so Powell says it’s unlikely it will affect Ryder’s release date, especially when his record is squeaky clean until now. And in one piece of good news, Lopez has been transferred. He won’t be coming back here after he’s been discharged from the hospital because he’s been relocated to the Orange County Central Men’s Jail. I felt like throwing a party when I found out.
Valeria is hopping mad and mouthing off any chance she gets. She and her posse take any and every opportunity to push me around, and it’s only a matter of time before we come to blows. But I’m expecting it, and I’m on my guard.
When Ryder arrives back at school, he returns to ignoring me. I’m not surprised, but I am disappointed. I had hoped he’d understand why I did it, but he’s gi
ving me a wide berth. I allow him a couple of days to calm down, but when he’s still avoiding me, I decide it’s time to take matters into my own hands.
I corner him in the library, putting myself directly in his path so he’ll have no choice but to speak to me. “Ryder, can we talk? Please.” I plead with my eyes, willing him to at least look at me.
A muscle pops in his jaw as he lowers his face to mine. Pain glimmers at the back of his eyes. “I’ve nothing to say to you,” he says in a clipped tone.
He moves to go around me, but I place my hand on his arm, stalling him. “I didn’t want to do it,” I whisper. “But I’m not sorry I did because you have your Fender back, and that’s all I wanted.”
“You think I wanted it back like that?” he snaps, hurt transforming to anger.
“I know how much that guitar means to you, and I know what you did for me, and I wanted to show you how much I care for you, how much I miss you.”
He snorts. “By sucking another guy’s cock?” His tone screams disbelief as he shoves my hand away. “You’ve a really fucking warped way of showing you care.”
“Please, Ryder.” Tears prick my eyes. “I know I messed up, but can’t you find it in your heart to forgive me? I forgave you for all the shit you said about me and all the pain you put me through. Why can’t you do the same for me?”
“Because I didn’t get down on my knees like a fucking whore!” he barks, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.
I jerk back as if slapped. The truth of his words rips through me, and I’m devastated as I finally let the thoughts lingering at the back of my mind free.
I’m exactly like my mom, and it’s no wonder Ryder has lost respect for me. As I note the look of disgust in his eyes, I know he’s never going to forgive me.
I’ve lost him, and there isn’t anything I can do to change that.
I sink into a bottomless pit after that. Luc is an absolute sweetheart, trying his best to remain loyal to both of us, attempting to act as peacemaker, but I tell him to let it go. I don’t harbor any grudges against Ryder, and I understand why he can’t get past this. Last night, after I woke up from another nightmare, I imagined what it would be like if he’d gone down on Valeria in a deal to keep me safe, and it sickened me to my stomach.
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