Chapter Twenty-One
Lacey
“I need to go to school,” I murmur to the floor, staring down at my bare feet as my toes curl into the carpet. I have only the breakfast he brought me to indicate that it’s the next morning. He woke me up some time ago. I was surprised to find my clothes and backpack on the floor of his bedroom before he grabbed me by the arm to drag me to the bathroom and watched as I showered. He provided toothpaste and a new, packaged toothbrush for me to brush my teeth. I’m now sitting on the edge of his bed in fresh, clean clothes; my skinny jeans and a hooded sweater are the best and smallest comfort right now. The fact that he went back to the apartment for my backpack and clothes means he probably brought my mother back, too, and I want so badly to ask him about her, but the words won’t make it past my lips. It doesn’t help that the discovery I made yesterday is still very fresh on my mind and won’t even allow me to look him directly in the eyes. The one thing I know is that I need to get away from here, from him, as quickly as possible. If he lets me go to school then I can skip a few classes, grab the bus home, and see if my mother is there.
I tense up, my scalp burning from the fistful of hair he grabs as he tugs my head back, forcing me to look at him. “Are you telling me or asking me?”
“Asking…please.”
“Better.” He loosens his grip but remains close, “Eat your breakfast…”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Hmm.” There is an instant change in his eyes as I watch them narrow and then darken as the corner of his mouth quirks up. It’s not a smile. He’s different than he was yesterday, the air of kindness he’d displayed has been replaced with something far more sinister, deadlier, and it shows in the cold, harsh lines of his handsome face. “Then maybe a different sort of protein.” His thumb skates over my bottom lip. “Take out my cock and drink your breakfast, Lacey.”
“I don’t…”
The burn of the slap across my cheek dissolves the words before they can even form. He pulls me off the bed by my hair and kicks my legs from under me so that I crash to the floor on my knees. “Don’t misunderstand my intentions, Lacey. You and I are not in a relationship. There is no equality here. These things I do for you are not out of the goodness of my heart. It entertains me to watch you think I care what you want, that I actually care anything about you at all. It amuses me to manipulate your emotions, to see how much I can give you before I rip it all away again.” With his one hand still gripping my hair, he unzips his jeans and frees his cock. Looking away isn’t an option as he digs his fingers into my jaw, forcing my mouth open. “See how hard playing with your emotions makes me?” He slides the head of his cock in my mouth, the slickness of his pre-cum coating my lips before he stuffs the entire length inside.
I’m ready for it this time. I fight off my gag reflux by relaxing my throat and allowing my mouth to accommodate every inch of him while breathing through my nose. My lips close around him, sealing him into my mouth completely while my tongue works the underside of his cock. At the harsh release of breath, I raise my eyes to look at him. He stares right back at me. His dark, smoldering gaze is like a jolt of lightning to my senses, it strikes directly at the pit of my belly, starting a fire there that melts directly between my thighs. My nipples pebble beneath my sweater, rubbing sensually against the cotton fabric every time I move. With his hand in my hair, he controls my head movements, but I fall into his rhythm, every suck and release coinciding with his pumping hips. The more frenzied his thrusts, the damper the center of his jeans become until I’m whimpering around him, rocking my hips back and forth, imagining it’s my pussy he is pounding into.
I feel the tension in his body seconds before he holds my head in place and explodes. Hot, spurting globs of cum fill my mouth and with his cock jammed to the back of my throat, I have no choice but to swallow every milky drop. He releases me and takes a step back as he tucks himself back inside his jeans. Slipping a hand beneath my chin, he tilts my head up and my eyes find his. He swipes at the corner of my mouth. “You missed some. Open,” he coaxes with a tap of his finger on my lips. “Lick it clean.” I close my mouth around his thumb and use my tongue to suck on it.
“Enough,” he growls, and pulls his hand away. “Did you enjoy your breakfast, Lacey?”
There is really only one answer that will satisfy him. “Yes,” I answer. And I hate him for making me say it.
“Then we’ll have to make it a part of your daily serving, won’t we?”
Fuck you. “Yes.”
He smirks. “I’ll take you to school now. Be ready in ten minutes.”
***
“You will wait for me here at exactly two-thirty.” His voice shatters the awkward silence that filled the car throughout the thirty minute ride. I’ve been playing with the loose string on the right sleeve of my sweater in that duration just to distract myself. It hadn’t worked, so I’m really glad when he finally pulls up to the curb a few feet away from my school. I don’t give him a chance to come to a complete stop when I reach for the door handle, but his restrictive hold on my wrist keeps me from going anywhere at all. “Keep me waiting a minute longer and you’ll regret it.”
“I’ll be here,” I say quietly, fighting the urge to wrench my hand out of his grasp and just run. But it’s not until he actually relinquishes his hold that I push the passenger door open and practically jump out of the car. Despite the thickness of the sweater I’m wearing, I can feel his rapier-sharp eyes cutting into the skin at my back, following my progression up the front steps and doesn’t stop until I pull the heavy, blue door and disappear inside. The second warning bell rings just as I’m entering physics class. I take my usual seat at the table in the third row back and immediately I can tell something is off. I can’t exactly put my finger on it but it feels almost like when someone’s been talking about you but then they clam up the minute they see you. I should’ve been used to this feeling by now but for some reason today I can’t seem to shake it. It persists all throughout Mrs. Delaney’s lecture, making it impossible for me to concentrate. What makes it even worse is Mrs. Delaney singling me out of the class to provide the answer to Monday’s assignment that she clearly knows I don’t have.
“And where were you on Monday, Miss Barnes?”
“I was sick.”
“So I can assume you’ve provided the front office with a doctor’s note? Because as you are well aware, I can’t allow you to make up the quiz you’ve missed or even give you the assignment until your absence is excused.”
There’s no possible win for me in this scenario so I simply shrug, looking directly in front of me without blinking. “As I’ve said earlier in the semester, if you can’t keep up, you are more than welcome to drop the class. That goes for everyone in here. If you skip a class, you will fall behind and I will not stop the education of others to wait for you to catch up. You may have a seat, Miss Barnes.” It takes me standing there like an idiot for a good five minutes before she puts me out of my misery.
The rest of my day is pretty much a straight shot to hell and Mrs. Delaney’s unnecessary bitch-fest shoves me into the abyss. That feeling of being talked about only grows worse as I walk down the halls and instead of it being just Heather and her flunkies, it feels like the entire student body is in on some joke that I’m the butt of. A large part of me has been dreading talking to Tyler after the pictures Knox sent him, but I’m suddenly realizing I need him more than anything right now. Lunch couldn’t have come any faster and I don’t even bother with food as I search each crowded table for him. He’s not sitting with Declan and the rest of his friends.
“Hey, have you seen Tyler?” I ask Declan, as I come around to his table.
He turns to me with a grin, “Hey Lacey, what’s the difference between a slut and a hoe?” he asks.
“Fuck you.”
“That’s it! One fucks for free while the other charges. So in your case, I’m guessing we’re voting for hoe?” The whole table breaks into laughter j
ust as I’m walking away. I make a beeline for the nearest exit out of the cafeteria when I finally spot Tyler in my peripheral vision. He’s looking at me, so I stop. My heart slams painfully against my breastbone when I see where he’s sitting. It’s no wonder why I couldn’t find him. I would’ve never guessed he’d willingly sit at Heather’s table. It takes me battling with my pride for a while before I make the decision to walk over to him. Tunnel vision and ignoring everything and everyone else around me has me standing at his side.
“Can I…can I talk to you?”
“Seriously, Lacey, you should really do something about that offensive smell of yours. It’s gotta be really bad for business. No man should pay for sex and be subjected to a fish market.” Says Heather.
I grit my teeth against the insult, reminding myself that I’m not here for Heather or anyone else except for Tyler. But when I set my hand on his shoulder, he recoils. “Fuck off, Lacey.”
That quiet brush-off hurts more than I want to admit. Feeling the pricks of tears rapidly traveling up my nose, I whirl around and run out of the cafeteria before the burn can reach my eyes. It’s not until I get to the nearest bathroom and lock myself inside the stall that I allow myself to cry. God, I just can’t catch a fucking break! Trying to be strong when all you want to do is curl up and hide away from the world that’s determined to keep you down, is mentally and physically draining. How much more of this bullshit can I take? At least before I could say I had Tyler as my escape. He provided a distraction, a safe haven where I could go and forget for a little bit who I was, where I came from, and what I had to constantly do to survive. He’s been the only friend I’ve ever had and now…? It hurts my heart too much to think I won’t have him in my life anymore.
It takes a lot for me to come out of that stall. I’m in no way mentally ready to face what’s waiting out there for me. Matter of fact, I’m just about ready for this day to be over. But seeing as I’ve never been one to shy away from my problems, I splash some cold water on my face, take a deep shuddering breath, and slip on my mask of indifference. Tyler makes it a point to avoid me all throughout media class, going so far as to switch places with Janet Meyers so he wouldn’t have to sit with me for our class project. Any attempt I make to get his attention is decidedly ignored. The final insult to come out of this miserable school day comes when I make it to my locker last period and finally see the reason why everyone’s been laughing. There’s a piece of neon pink paper taped to my locker, and written on it in dark, bold print are the words: Prom Slut or Prom Hoe? You decide. Your vote matters. I don’t even need to dig deep to figure out who’s handiwork this is. It just reeks of Heather’s signature bitch perfume.
I rip the paper off and crumple it into a ball, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t the only copy around school. Entering my combination, I pop open my locker and stop cold. The pictures of me that Knox sent to Tyler stare back at me in printed form. I want to be sick right then and there as I slam my locker shut. God, did he show her these? Would he be that cruel? Frantically, I look around the crowded corridor for either Tyler or Heather, knowing they’ll want to stick around to see my reaction. Shoving through the crowd blocking the hallway as they slowly make their way outside, I finally find Tyler near the front entrance. Heather thankfully isn’t around. I can only deal with one of them at a time.
Approaching the crowd he’s in, I stand at his side and say, “I need to talk to you.”
He turns to me with a scowl on his face. “What part of fuck off didn’t you understand?”
“Did you show them to her?” stubbornness has me asking, standing next to him like an idiot when my pride demanded I save face and just go. People were staring, curious as to what I was talking about. But if this was the only way to get him to talk to me, then so be it.
“Show who what?”
“You know what,” I say, through clenched teeth. “Are you really going to throw away our friendship because of those pictures? You’re not even going to let me explain?”
He clenches his jaw, balls his fists at his sides, before releasing a heavy sigh. “Fuck.” He turns to his friends and says, “I’ll catch you guys later.”
When he walks away, heading back down the hallway where the crowd has thinned some and it’s much quieter, I follow. He rounds the corner, opens the door to the art room and pokes his head inside to make sure it’s empty before he walks in. The silence is so loud that I can hear my heart beating. I don’t know why I’m suddenly nervous but I swipe my hands down the front of my jeans to rid them of their dampness.
“You’re just going to stare at me or is this going somewhere?” He’s a lot colder than I ever expected him to be toward me.
“Tyler…please tell me you didn’t show those pictures to Heather.”
“Didn’t realize they were meant to be private.”
“So you did?”
“Jesus! Is that the only fucking thing you care about?”
“No!”
“Then why the fuck are we here, Lacey? What the fuck more is there for you to say to me?”
“I didn’t…I didn’t send those pictures. Tyler you have to believe me, I…” Taking in a deep breath, I continue, “It’s not what you think they are. I feel horrible that you had to see that...”
He scoffs, “You feel horrible?” He takes a step toward me and then another. Slightly intimidated by his sudden advance, I shuffle backwards until my back hits the wall by the entrance door. “How the fuck do you think I felt when I saw them?”
I shake my head, “I’m sorry…”
“Tell me, Lacey, is this what you’re into? Is this kinky shit how I get to fuck you? Because it’s like you’re letting everyone and their father fuck you except for me. If all I have to do is tie you up…”
The boom of the door slamming against the outside wall puts an immediate halt to Tyler’s words and causes me to jump. But being startled is nothing compared to the tempest of dread that crashes into me, dragging me along the jagged rocks of raw fear that shreds every inch of me at the sight of Knox standing there. I don’t know how he could’ve possibly found me but the way he assess the situation, his cold, calculating blue-gray stare deliberately slows as he takes in our incriminating position, making me want to disappear inside the wall behind me. It’s a little too late for me to shove Tyler away, but I do it anyway. Before I can open my mouth to speak, he beats me to it with a very quiet, terse, “Let’s go.” When he turns to leave, I step out from around Tyler and move to follow him.
But Tyler’s hold on my forearm stops me, “Lace.”
His scowl from before is gone; he doesn’t appear to be angry with me anymore. It’s his deep expression of concern, however, that has me reaching out to tentatively touch his cheek. “Please don’t be mad at me.” I blink back the tears. “Things have been really crazy lately, but I need you to know how much you mean to me. You’re the only friend I have, Tyler. I…I don’t know what I’d do if you abandoned me, too.” Before I know it, I’m wrapped up in his arms and he’s squeezing the air out of me, his face buried in the space between my neck and shoulder. In the back of my head I hear a voice screaming for me to let go. I’m pushing my luck as it is but I can’t possibly leave Tyler without telling him something. He’s become so essential to my life. I can’t bear the thought of losing him.
“Don’t go.” Raising his head, he looks at me, “You don’t have to go with him. Who the fuck is he anyway?”
That voice in my head grows even louder. “It’s complicated,” I murmur, unable to give him more than that as I pull out of his embrace. “I need to go…”
“What the hell does he have on you? Lace, talk to me.”
When he reaches for me, this time I evade him by taking a step backwards toward the door. “I can’t. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I turn on my heel and race down the hall.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lacey
I’ve had the entire thirty minute ride from my school to his loft to gather my thoughts,
and the moment we arrive I turn to him, ready to explain myself, but I’m met with the vicious blow of a backhanded slap that has me stumbling to the floor. Raising a hand to my burning face, I look up at him and all moisture dries up in my mouth. Immense, like a towering skyscraper, he looms, his large body casting an ominous shadow over me, blocking out any light from my direct vision. His intensity blazes, so palpable that if I reach out a hand to him, it would scorch my fingers. In the heavy, cloying silence he uses like a weapon, I hear my thudding heart and the blood rushing between my ears. He says nothing, only looks at me with that chilling stare as he slowly advances toward me.
His intentions aren’t entirely clear, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. And what I won’t do is play his victim without a fight. Using whatever bit of adrenaline I have surging through my nervous system, I climb to my feet. We’re in the living room, a space I’m partially familiar with, so I have only seconds for my eyes to take in my surroundings. There’s nothing I can use as a weapon to ward him off. So my thoughts instantly clamor for me to run. With his hulking frame blocking the only visible entrance to the outside world, I have no choice but to race to the metal stairs. If I can make it upstairs, maybe I can lock myself in his bedroom and buy myself some time. What I underestimate is the distance from where I was standing to the stairs, but self-preservation propels me forward.
I know he’s behind me, I can feel the overpowering force of his gravity pulling me back to him. But I refuse to stop. “Run, little mouse, run,” the taunting cadence of his voice injects fear into my booming heart and sends dread spiraling down my spine. I’m on the fourth step when I make the mistake of looking back to find him at the bottom of the stairs. He doesn’t chase me, simply stands there. It is only when I falter, my foot missing the fifth step, causing me to scramble to right myself that I hear his thundering footsteps barreling toward me.
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