by S. J. Sylvis
His gray, stormy eyes pinned me to my spot. He looked at my face and trailed his stare over my T-shirt and bare legs. I flicked my eyebrow up and tapped my foot, waiting for my answer. When our eyes met again, I felt heat trickle across my body. In an alternate universe, Christian would have been my knight in shining armor. He would have been the Flynn to my Rapunzel. He’d whisk me off my feet and out of this awful tower I was locked in, and we’d live happily ever after. Or better yet, he’d storm over to me right now and rip this T-shirt off my body and have his way with me. Okay, whoa…stop it.
Almost as if he heard my thoughts, he stormed over to me. Too stunned to do anything, I stood stuck in my spot, my bare feet glued to the old oak floor beneath my soles. I sucked in a heavy breath as I peered up into Christian’s face, the storm clouds hooded by thick dark eyelashes. His jaw was shut tightly, the muscles protruding near his temples. He fingered the hem of my long T-shirt, and chills broke out along my naked legs. Heat pooled in my core, but I was too struck by confusion to do anything. Then, he slowly—so slowly I thought I might have melted into a puddle of lust—lifted my shirt up.
When he hissed under his breath, the indifferent look in his eye went back to its normal hardness. “What the fuck happened?”
I stuttered, blinking away my bedroom eyes. “Wh—what?”
He pulled on my T-shirt, crashing my body into his hard chest. He lifted my shirt up again, and I realized what he was looking at. I quickly shoved him away and pulled down my shirt, mortified that I had just allowed him to lift my shirt in the first place.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing breaking into my room like a stalker and lifting my shirt up?” I kept my voice down low, afraid I’d somehow wake Pete out of his drunken slumber.
“I didn’t see you complaining with those fuck-me eyes a second ago.” He squinted one eye. “Better question is, what the hell were you doing letting me lift your shirt?”
My face flamed. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I hate him.
“How did you get in here?”
Christian eyed my room. His gaze fixed on the mattress on the floor, my one blanket in a crumpled mess. There wasn’t much to the room: a mattress pushed up against the old and tattered, yellowing wallpaper and a small bedside lamp on the floor with the cord trailing across the room like a tightrope. My backpack was tucked away in the corner with my uniform in a bunched-up mess a few feet away. That was it. The only personal item in the room that had any meaning at all was the locket around my neck.
I was certain Christian was comparing his life to mine—his glamorous, entitled, has-everything-he-ever-wanted life, whereas mine appeared like the bottom of a dumpster in an abandoned alley. I had nothing. I was nothing. Those were some of the last words my own mother had spoken to me. That was what sucked about words—they never left you. Bruises faded. But words never did. I’d been hearing her voice for the last few years on a loop in my brain.
“Who did it?” I cleared the thoughts in my head. My fingers fiddled with the locket around my neck, something I did when I was nervous.
“Why do you want to know?” I set my mouth in a firm line. “Want to thank them for doing the job? Give them a medal? Bond over your hatred for me?”
His face twitched. The sharp line of his jaw appeared like steel. “I don’t hit girls, Hayley. Whoever did this deserves to have their teeth kicked in.”
“And what if it was a girl who did it? I thought you didn’t hit girls.”
He scoffed. “It wasn’t a girl. Whoever did this to you is bigger and stronger. Or else they never would have gotten a hit in. Now, who did it?”
I leveled him with a stare, shifting on my bare feet. “Did you climb through my window? How did you even know which one was mine?” Christian was wearing jeans, his Vans, and a dark T-shirt—none of which had dirt or even a tiny smudge from climbing. How was that possible? Last time I climbed down the lattice, I tore the hole in my jeans even wider.
“Tell me who, Hayley.” Christian’s voice was strained, rough like he had swallowed gravel.
I huffed and rolled my eyes, and instead of answering him, I tiptoed over to my bed and lay down, not even sparing him a glance. I covered myself back up with the thin-as-paper blanket Jill had laid out for me the first day I got here and pretended like I was going back to sleep.
I was certain I appeared cool and nonchalant, lazily getting comfortable in my prison-like bed, but on the inside, I was frazzled. My nerves were fried, and my heart was racing. What does this mean? Why is he here? Why does he care? Why are you excited?
Part of me wondered if maybe Piper was right. Maybe he didn’t hate me like he said.
“You can leave now. I’m not telling you anything,” I said, closing my eyes and attempting to calm my heart rate.
Hearing pacing, I peeked an eye and saw Christian storming back and forth in my room. I hurriedly sat up. “Stop it!” I hissed. “You’ll wake Pete up!”
He stopped and glared. “Who’s Pete?”
“My foster dad, now stop.”
The tilt of his head and sinister look he leveled me with had me gulping. “Did he do it?”
I flung the blanket off my legs, all hot and pissed off. “Why do you even care? You have made it very clear you hate me and want me gone. So why?”
He looked troubled. His heavy brow furrowed. “Did someone at school do it? I need to know, Hayley. Quit fuckin’ around and tell me.”
“Please,” I hushed. “Keep your voice down.”
Nerves were coiling inside my stomach. My hands started to tremble. “Is that what this is about? Wondering if someone at school did this?”
He shrugged, looking out the window. “If someone in my school is hitting girls, I need to fucking know.”
And here I thought that he might actually care about me. What a joke. No. King Christian only cared about his stupid, forsaken school. Why are you so upset about this, Hayley?
A dire laugh fell out of my mouth. “You can relax; your precious peasants are all following your rules. No one has messed with me since Madeline took my clothes.”
“It was your foster dad, wasn’t it?” His eyes jerked to my bedroom door, and it felt like a bullet had lodged its way into my spine.
Knowing he was correct, he lunged for the door, turned the knob, and paused. He tried turning it two more times, jiggling it back and forth. Then, he slowly turned around, his broad shoulders pulled back tightly. “Is..” He swept his dark gaze back at the door before leveling it in my direction. “Is your fucking door locked?”
I had to admit, this was not how I had planned for my night to go. I was supposed to be sleeping peacefully on my prison cot.
“You better fucking tell me what the hell is going on right now, or I swear to God I’ll break down this door with my bare hands and find out for myself.”
“Jesus Christ,” I whisper-shouted. I walked over to the pile of clothes on my floor and pulled on some jeans. Christian’s jaw went a little slack as he watched my every move. It was a nice look for him. Much better than the angry, firm jaw and menacing eyes he often threw my way. I whipped my shirt off, thankful I had a bra on, and threw on a hoodie. I trotted over to my bed, created a dummy-like body lying on the mattress with my pillow and a pile of dirty clothes, switched off my lamp, and trotted over to the window. “Since you’re acting like a man-toddler, stomping around and yelling like a freaking Neanderthal, we’re going to talk outside. So, let’s go.”
I didn’t wait for Christian to answer me. I was certain he was angry at me for bossing him around, but I thought that might have been just what he needed.
Christian needed a little dose of his own medicine.
Chapter Seventeen
Christian
Her tiny, yet feisty, body climbed down the lattice like it was a rock-climbing wall that she’d climbed a million times before. The crunch of autumn leaves sounded from below as she hopped down, and I followed after her.
My mind was in a spi
ral of questions, and my dick was a little hard from seeing her in nothing but a T-shirt. I hated that she had an effect on me. I hated how I lusted after her, and I hated how I was all but salivating at the mouth when I had pressed her body up against mine. Her reaction set off a domino effect in my body: my head spun, my hands itched to touch her, my lips ached to taste hers. The past slipped through my fingers, and I was focused on one thing and one thing only: her—here, in the present.
Once she had stepped back out of my grasp, I focused on the real reason I was in her bedroom: the bruise on her side. My blood was bubbling over. An angry heat was prickling the back of my neck. I would fucking kill her foster father if I was correct in my assumptions, and don’t even get me started on her locked door. I knew very well she hadn’t had the best living arrangements since being in foster care. She’d been through some shit, according to her file, but this? Was this how her life had been since her dad died? Hayley wasn’t the same girl from five years ago, and I thought I was beginning to see why.
As soon as my own shoes landed on the soft ground, I grabbed Hayley’s hand and spun her body around the old oak tree. The bark was rough as I gently pushed her back against it, caging her in. “I don’t like this.”
Her soft breath fanned over my skin. “You don’t like what?”
Everything in my body froze. Something about Hayley turned off my brain, and my body acted in ways it never had before. She was a magnet, and I was the metal. “I don’t like that my fucking head is spinning over a girl I hate. I don’t like that I can’t figure you out. I don’t like that you have all these secrets running around in your head. And I especially don’t like that you won’t tell me a damn thing.”
The pounding of my pulse awakened the muscle inside my chest. It was beating fast and hard. Lust was swimming around the pair of us, my eyes dipping down to her pouty lips. I could see the curve of them even in the dark. I wanted to run my mouth over them. I wanted to shove my tongue in her mouth and drink in every last secret she kept.
Hayley lifted her chin a little higher, our lips no more than a breath apart. We stared at each other for far too long before she whispered, “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to tell your secrets to your enemy, Christian?” Then, she pushed me away and rounded the tree, taking my breath with her.
I was stupefied—stunned, even. No one had ever pushed my buttons the way she had in the last few weeks. I hated her two days ago, and yet, here I was, following after her like a splinter being drawn to the surface. Why couldn’t I stop trailing her? Why did I all of a sudden feel protective over her?
As soon as she crossed the street, she looked for my Charger, which was tucked behind a massive, decked-out Escalade.
“Up ahead,” I urged, nodding in the right direction. The lamppost above her head flickered, and she brought her attention to her foster house. I watched her swallow down what appeared to be nerves, and then she let out a breath and walked the remaining distance to my car.
“Are you kidding? Did you kidnap my friend?!” She spun around and glared at me, her dark hair a mess, whipping around her face.
I shrugged and climbed in on the driver's side as she did the same on the passenger side. Her body swung around and landed on Piper, who was sitting with her arms crossed over her chest. Ollie was laid back, looking relaxed as ever, a smug grin on his face. I didn’t even want to know.
“Did he kidnap you?”
Piper huffed. “Pretty much! He demanded I tell him everything, and when I wouldn’t, he said he was just going to drive here. I made him climb the window instead of knocking on the door because…”
Hayley’s scowl turned soft, her lips curving upward and her eyes darting down. “Thank you.”
“Okay, now fucking talk,” I interjected, tapping my fingers along the steering wheel, staring at the ugly square house she called home. Even though being so up close and personal with Hayley muted my anger for a moment and distracted the hell out of me, I was back.
My temper was rearing its ugly head, and ol’ Pete was about to be the casualty.
“If I tell you, will you leave me the hell alone?” She flew back into her seat, exasperated. “I still don’t even know why you care. You’ve made it perfectly clear the last two weeks that you hate me and obviously blame me.”
Ollie stuck his head in between us, resting his elbows on the leather center console. “Yeah, about that. Christian doesn’t blame you. His reasoning is whack as fuck.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I bristled. Not the fucking time.
“Yeah, I’ll leave you alone.” Not a chance in hell.
Hayley looked at me from her peripheral vision. The car went silent. Ollie sunk back into his seat, and Piper stopped scowling at him. We were all on edge, waiting for her to explain. Hayley swallowed, the truth ready to spill from her lips. “I fell down the stairs.”
I growled and smacked my steering wheel. “Quit fucking around, Hayley. Who the hell hurt you? Why won’t you tell me?”
She leveled me with a stare that hit me in my core. “Because I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anyone.”
She looked away, wounded. I flicked my eyes into the rearview mirror, and for once, Piper didn’t look angry. She looked sad. The skin around her eyes crinkled, the dark color of her irises pleading with me to keep going. I must have proven my worth by climbing through the window.
“So what? That’s it? You’re not going to tell me anything?”
She huffed. “Absolutely not! Why would I tell you anything? The only thing you’ve proven to me since I came to English Prep is what a jerk you can be! I know you’re used to people bowing at your feet, but I won’t be one of them.” She was seething now, fuming, her voice louder as each insult flew out. “I know guys like you. Rich, entitled assholes. Just like climbing in my room and demanding I tell you who left this bruise on my side! Or demanding to know why my door was locked. I owe you nothing, Christian. When I first got to English Prep, I thought maybe we could pick up where we had left off, but I was sorely mistaken.” My name coming out of her mouth was laced with venom. Like I was a villain. And maybe I was. “You manipulate people to follow you around school with their tongues hanging from their mouths. You can’t manipulate me. I’m nothing like the people you surround yourself with. I no longer want to be in your good graces.” She sighed heavily. My stomach was tightened, ready for more. “Maybe I did two weeks ago, when I was walking into English Prep blindly, a heart full of hope, but you’ve said it and your actions proved it. You hate me. We’re not the same two kids we were five years ago. So, no. I’m not telling you anything!”
Finally, Hayley was done with her rant. The car felt suffocating. Everything she said had some piece of truth to it. When I looked at her, I saw the past, and it made me want to hate her, but in the same breath, I also saw the future, and it made me want to love her.
Her hand was on the door handle. “Just leave me alone.” She glanced back at Piper, giving her a sad smile. “And take Piper back to where you found her.” With that, she climbed out of my car and slammed the door.
My fingers were drumming the steering wheel again, my mind going a million miles a second. Piper’s voice had me pausing. “Christian, everything she said was the truth. You are an entitled, rich dick who thinks he can control everything and everyone at English Prep. But this?” I flicked my eyes to hers in the rearview mirror. “This is real life. I’ve only known her for two weeks, and I can tell you right now that she isn’t the type of girl to ask for help or to confide in someone—not even when she needs to. And right now, she needs to.” She worried her lip between her teeth. “It’s not a good situation.”
“Was it her foster father?” I asked, keeping her stare.
“Yeah,” she answered.
Ollie hissed. “Bro, don’t do anything stupid. I can save your ass at a Wellington Prep party with a bunch of pansy asses, but I’m not so sure about this.”
I ignored his protests and climbed out of the Charger. I tr
ied to keep a steady head. Think this through. I couldn’t be rash.
Or could I?
Hayley was crossing the street as I passed the parked Escalade to my right. Her arms were wrapped around her middle, her hair blowing in the wind.
I stepped over the curb, and she turned toward me quickly. “Jesus Christ.” She threw her arms up when she saw it was me. “Take a hint! I don't need any help.”
“No, but Pete is about to.”
I stormed past her, ignoring her gasp. Right before I got to the bottom step of the house, Hayley sidestepped in front of me, her eyes wide underneath the soft glow of the moon. “Christian, stop! No!”
I snarled, ready to shove her away. Her warm palm landed on my bicep, skin on skin. I can’t believe her own foster father laid his hands on her. It wasn’t my intention to beat his ass when I climbed out of my car and followed after her. My plan was to act like I was so Hayley would stop lying and tell me the truth. But once I got to the bottom step and she looked up at me with fear plain as day in her eyes, something snapped inside of me. A protectiveness of her that I thought no longer existed emerged. He hurt Hayley. My Hayley.
“Christian.” Her voice pulled me further away from anger, her hand wrapping tighter around my arm. “Don’t. Please. I’m begging you.”
I paused, wavering for a moment. When I shifted my attention back to the house, she squeezed harder.
“If you ever cared about me at all, please don’t do this.”
My head tilted; my jaw tightened. What a stupid thing to say. Of course I cared about her. It was why I was acting so insane right now.
“That’s not doing it for me, Hay. Better think of something else to distract me with, because I’m seconds from bashing his fucking face in.” I couldn’t wait to see his reaction when he opened the door and I punched him clear off his fucking feet. I’ll kick him in his side just li—
My breath was momentarily gone. A spark of life went through my body like lightning striking the ground. Hayley’s lips were on mine, moving effortlessly, as if they were meant for me all along. Her hands left my arms and weaved into my hair; her soft breath mingled with mine. My heart moved inside my chest as I pulled her in closer. I’d never felt such a tug in my core than I did in that moment. Hayley’s ruby lips were mine for the taking, and I took every last breath that she had.