by Caitlyn Dare
I bet they’ve never laid there at night with tears streaming down their cheeks while the guy who’s supposed to love them fucks them so hard they can’t walk for two days straight.
I bet they haven’t perfected the art of covering up bites and bruises so that people don’t ask too many questions.
They have friends and families and trust funds. Hopes, aspirations, and dreams.
I stopped dreaming a long time ago.
Hadley never showed. I didn’t see her after school, and she never waited this morning. I can’t shake the feeling I’ve been dumped for Team Conner.
It sucks, but it’s nothing new. I’m used to being alone. Like in the Heights, people knew what Warren was doing—they had to—but no one ever tried to intervene. They never tried to help me. Sure, Shelbie had given me a place to stay a couple of times when it got really bad, but every time she watched me go back to him, as if there wasn’t another option.
Maybe there wasn’t.
Maybe this, being here in the Bay, is just a fantasy, a dream, and the reality is that soon I’ll wake up and everything will go back to how it was before.
Shaking off the grim thoughts, I file into the stream of kids all headed to first period. It feels pointless being here, like I’m playing at someone else’s life.
I sense Conner before I see him. A warm current trickles up my spine and I turn slowly, finding him in the crowd. My stomach churns and I gasp as I take in his bruised face. It’s worse this time. One of his eyes is almost closed thanks to the swelling, and there’s a nasty cut on his lip.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m moving toward him. “Conner,” I breathe. “What did you do?”
His eyes meet mine, but the boy I once loved more than anything isn’t staring back at me. This is a stranger. His expression is dark, his gaze dead.
“So now you care?” he grits out.
“You were fighting again?” My fingers itch to touch him, to trace the ugly, tender skin. But I hold back. Anger swirls around him like a vortex, making the air hard to breathe.
“Conner, you can’t go back there. It isn’t—"
“Fuck you, Kennedy. Fuck. You,” he seethes, getting in my face. “Why the hell should I tell you anything when you’re the one keeping secrets?”
“I...” Realization slams into me and I stagger back a little. “You... k-know?”
His eyes shutter as he drags in a ragged breath.
“But how?”
Another bolt of realization hits, followed by a sinking feeling.
Hadley.
She told him.
It all makes sense now.
Betrayal snakes through me, coiling inside my chest until I feel like I can’t breathe. I should have known I couldn’t trust her.
People are watching. I feel their stares burn into my back as I remain trapped in Conner’s icy gaze. His injuries are even worse up close.
“You can’t keep doing this,” I whisper.
“Why?” he spits. “Because I’m weak? Because I’m the brother that always finishes last?”
“Conner...” I gasp. “You know that isn’t true.”
“Do I? You picked him... after we...” He can’t even say the words. “You picked him. I thought you were my girl. And then you went and crushed everything by choosing him.”
“I didn’t... that’s not what happened.” I can still remember it as clear as day. After we had sex, Conner freaked out. He pulled away. “You changed after we...”
“I’d just taken my best friend’s V card, the girl I was head over heels in love with who had no fucking idea how I felt.”
“What?” I rear back, his words like a wrecking ball to my stomach.
Conner loved me.
He loved me.
But it makes no sense. He pulled away, acting all weird. It had been the single best night of my life and then—
Oh God.
“Hey.” Conner hovers awkwardly, his eyes darting around me.
“Hey,” I say, butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach. I can still feel his lips on my skin, his weight pressing me into the mattress. Heat rushes into my cheeks.
“So, I... we should probably talk.” He runs a hand over his head and down the back of his neck. He’s nervous.
Oh God, he’s going to tell me it was a mistake.
I feel sick.
“What’s there to talk about?” I force a smile. “It was just sex, Conner. You’re my best friend and you did me a favor. Now I don’t have to worry about my first time.”
“Just sex?” His eyes flash with something, but then he’s smiling at me in that goofy way of his. “Uh, yeah, right. I’m glad to be of service. Anytime you want to do it again, just holler.”
“Ew. Gross.” I nudge his shoulder with mine, laughing. Can he hear the moment my heart breaks? Sex was supposed to bring us closer, but there’s this new distance between us. And I hate it.
His eyes are heavy on my face as he opens his lips to say something—
“Kennedy, Jagger.” Warren saunters over to us, shooting me a wolfish grin. “What’s up?”
“N-nothing,” I rush out. “We were just talking. I was just thanking Conner for uh... a little problem he helped me with me.”
“Yeah.” He stands. “That’s me, helpful guy.”
“You seem uptight, dude. You need to get laid,” Warren chuckles. “I saw Jemma Standing checking you out in math.”
Jealousy burns through me as I watch Conner out of the corner of my eye.
“Jemma’s okay, I guess.” He shrugs, his gaze darting to mine.
What is happening right now?
“We should all go out. The four of us,” Warren suggests, and I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
“You and Kenny?” Conner asks coolly, and Warren shrugs.
“Stranger things have happened.”
“You... loved me?”
“Are you that fucking blind, Kenny?” The words are barbed and lethal, cutting me wide open.
“But you just let Warren move in on me. You stood by and did nothing...” But as I say the words, I know they’re a lie.
“You told me it was just sex. You said that, K. You broke me.” He jabs his fingers at me, hatred swirling in his eyes. “You did that.”
“I didn’t—"
“Conner, let’s go,” Ace calls from down the hall. His voice is like a bucket of cold water and I stagger back, bumping into someone.
“Hey, watch it,” the guy hisses.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
Conner starts to leave, but I call his name. His eyes slide to mine and what I see there will haunt me for the rest of my life.
I watch as he walks away from me.
Taking the jagged shards of my heart with him.
The rest of the week isn’t much better. Conner is like a ghost in the halls at school. If he sees me, he turns around and goes the other way. Hadley barely looks in my direction, and Cole, Ace, and Remi all give me space.
I never felt a part of their inner circle, but I didn’t feel pitted against them. Now it feels like a line has been drawn, and I’m on one side and they’re on the other.
I barely sleep. Every night, I lie there replaying that conversation over and over in my head. I’d been so certain Conner was going to tell me it was a mistake, that he didn’t want to ruin our friendship, that I’d beaten him to it.
I’d lied.
The truth taunts me. It haunts my broken sleep and torments my mind.
He loved me.
Conner loved me. And yet, I’d ended up with an abusive, narcissistic psychopath.
It changes things... and yet, it doesn’t.
Conner had a hundred chances to fess up, to fight for me. But he didn’t. He simply stood by and let Warren claim me.
Something bangs against my window, and my heart leaps into my throat. Padding over to it, I pull open the curtains and search the ground below, half-expecting to find someone there throwing stones. There’s n
othing.
Strange.
It isn’t until I inspect the glass closer that I notice the tiny splatters of... blood. A shiver runs through me as I once again search the ground below.
I finally spot the blackbird, lying there at a funny angle. Poor thing. It must have flown right into the window and snapped its neck.
At least its end was quick and painless.
At least it is at peace now.
Unlike me, who is stuck in the worst kind of hell.
I sink down on my bed and stare up at the ceiling. It’s Friday night, and everyone else will be with their friends, hanging out at the pier or at someone’s party. My cell vibrates and I snatch it up.
Unknown: It’s Levi. I’ve tried getting a hold of Ace or Cole but they’re not responding. Conner turned up at fight night again… but he’s out of control. They need to come now before he does something he’ll regret.
Panic roots me to the spot. He’s there, again. I jump out of bed and shove my sneakers on while texting him back.
Me: We’ll be there. Just don’t let him get hurt, Levi. Please.
His reply is instant.
Unknown: You’d better hurry.
Chapter Eighteen
Conner
The first crunch of bone under my knuckles instantly helps to tamper down the anger that's been threatening to bubble over all week.
I did my best to avoid her, but I knew it couldn't last forever.
Our very public argument in the school hall plays out in my mind once again.
I'd admitted I loved her, and she just looked at me with furious, confused eyes.
Just like she did back then after our relationship changed forever.
She didn't fight. She just walked away at the first possible opportunity.
Crack.
My knuckles collide with the guy’s jaw.
Oomph.
He groans, and I use his moment of distraction as he spits out a mouthful of blood to plow my fists into his stomach, making him double over in agony.
But it doesn't help.
The images are still there. The rejection still stings just as badly.
This guy isn't enough.
He's too easy.
I need a challenge. Something to distract me from my reality.
After another five minutes, I have the guy on the ground while the crowd around me goes wild, but I don't feel any sense of achievement.
My ribs smart and my jaw aches a little where he got two pathetic hits early on.
But it's not enough.
"Someone sure pissed you off, eh?" Daz asks when he comes over to congratulate me.
"Yeah. I want another," I demand.
"Nah, man. You know the rules."
"Fuck the rules. Give me another fight. A fucking decent one this time. I want someone who knows what they're doing."
"Conner," he warns.
"Darren," I counter, narrowing my eyes at him. "I'd hate to have to tip off the wrong people about where this is happening tonight."
His angry eyes bore into mine. Back in the day, what I just said would have been an empty threat. Daz and I were tight. He delivered me what I needed when shit got to be too much, and I brought in more money than any other fighter. It was a win-win. But since we moved, he has no idea how to take me, what I'm capable of, and whether my threats are real.
"You wouldn't be so stupid."
"Want to try me?" I ask, stepping up to him, my bare, sweaty chest bumping into his.
Daz was one of the best back in the day. If this were a year or so ago, I have no doubt he'd take me down. But that was then. Now he's had one too many concussions and a wife and kid at home.
"Fine. But if you get yourself killed, I want it noted that this wasn't my fucking idea." He looks at Levi and Jay, who have walked over to see what's going on.
"Dude, you can't let him go again," Levi says, concern lacing his voice.
"Fucking watch me," I seethe, walking away in the hope of finding a drink.
"You want to try to stop him, be my guest," I hear Daz mutter as I get farther away. I don't give a shit what he thinks. I need this. I need the focus, the pain, the distraction.
I find myself a bottle of vodka and tip it back.
I don't feel the burn.
Fuck, I don't feel anything.
The minutes tick by as the alcohol starts to take effect. I don't drink enough to hinder my fighting but enough to fire me up. I have no idea who Daz is going to pair me up with next. I don't really give a shit, but I need to be ready.
It's another thirty minutes or so before I'm called back into the ring. I'm still pumped and ready, and as I stand there waiting to see who my opponent is, I ignore both Levi and Jay who are standing behind me, trying to convince me to give it up and go home.
I shake my head and block their voices out.
No one here understands.
Every time I close my eyes, all I see is Kenny laid out beneath me with my fingers wrapped around her throat, my fingertips digging into her hips. Only in a heartbeat, everything flips in my head and she isn’t willing, and I'm not me. Instead, she's struggling, and I'm that fucking monster, Warren.
Anger swirls through me, my fists curling as I imagine what I'm going to do to him when he finally crawls out of the hole he's hiding in.
My shoulders tense as I imagine snapping that motherfucker's neck like it's nothing more than a twig.
No man should ever force themselves on a woman. But my girl? My Kenny?
No. No, fucking way.
The crowd starts to get louder, and when I drag my eyes up from the concrete at my feet, I find a guy I recognize from my time in the ring before we left the Heights. I've never fought him before, and for one very good reason. He's fucking huge.
He steps forward, snarling at me as he approaches.
"You think you're good enough, boy?" he taunts.
I shake my head. He can try to intimidate me as much as he likes, but he doesn't have the images inside his head that I do.
"Try me," I spit as Daz steps toward us.
Movement on the edge of the crowd catches my eye for some reason, and I momentarily look up. A shiver of awareness trickles down my spine and I eagerly search for the head I thought I just saw.
He's here. That motherfucker is here.
I'm still searching for another glimpse of him while starting to think I'm imagining it when Daz starts the fight.
I only realize he's done so when a fist lands in my face.
Stumbling back, I collide with some of the crowd who happily push me back into the firing line.
I've been blindsided, and for a few minutes, I don't stand a chance. No matter what I do, what move I make, I can't get an advantage.
My lip splits, my eye swells, and I'm sure at least one rib cracks as he gets in hit after hit before I manage to take some kind of control back.
Suddenly, the tables flip. With Warren's smug fucking face in my mind, I see red. If that motherfucker is here, then I want him to witness what’s coming his way, because I will catch up with him at some point, and I will fucking end him.
The minutes feel like seconds as we continue to throw punch after punch at each other. The crowd continues to shout and scream for us as the fight goes on and on, both of us fairly evenly matched.
Seeing as it's my second of the night, despite the fact that the first one was a walk in the park, my muscles start to tire and my movements begin to slow although my head screams to continue.
Thankfully, I’m not the only one who starts to tire. I manage to get the upper hand when he makes a rookie mistake. I fly at him, desperately needing to take him to the ground. And I'm just about to when his fist connects with my temple and everything goes black.
I feel myself go down. I wince in pain as I crash against the cold concrete at my feet.
The crowd roars in excitement before everything goes silent. I have no idea if I lie there for thirty seconds or thirty minutes, but at some point, hands grip
me under my arms and I'm dragged away from the ring.
Voices sound out around me. I want to say I recognize them, that they're familiar, but I can't quite get a grasp on reality.
I'm dragged to somewhere quiet before being lifted onto a softer surface.
I want to open my eyes to see who it is looking after me, to discover who the voices belong to, but I can't. I have no idea if that's because they're swollen shut or just because I'm too exhausted, but no matter how hard I try, I can't open them. I can’t move anything.
I'd have thought that not being able to move might make me panic. But in that moment, I don't care. I don't care about anything other than ensuring that I win my next fight and that the bloody body at the other end of my fists belongs to Warren.
Something soft and warm is pressed to my eye as a hot hand slips into mine. Tingles race up my arm and my heart skips a beat that it could be Kenny. But I know it's wishful thinking. She doesn't know I'm here. And even if she did, I doubt she'd care.
She shouldn't care. Not after the way I treated her.
My head falls to the side and I dry heave over the edge of whatever I'm lying on as those mixed images fill my head again. One second, I'm seeing everything I've ever wanted, Kenny lying before me, and the next, I'm him and I'm forcing her to do things she doesn't want to do.
I heave again, but nothing comes up and all that fills my mouth is the coppery taste of blood.
I spit it out before everything goes black once more.
Only this time, I'm not alone.
She's there, sitting on the edge of the bed with a warm cotton ball, cleaning up my cuts and quietly chastising me for my reckless actions.
She tells me everything I want to hear, along with what an idiot I've been.
I cling to it like it's reality, even though deep down, I know it's not.
If I'm lucky, when I wake I'll find Levi or Jay—or both—tending to my wounds with much less care than she would. Reality is, they’ll probably throw a bottle of vodka at me, rip me a new one, and mention a few times how they were right and I was wrong before disappearing to leave me to deal with my own bad decisions.