“You’ve been dodging me all day. What happened to Switzerland?”
“Screw that,” she clips, throwing open her locker. “Do you have any idea how much trouble Saint is in because of that shit yesterday?”
“No, I don’t, because no one will freaking talk to me.” My raised voice causes a few students passing by to stare. I lift my eyebrows, telling them to move along. “What happened?” I try, my tone gentle this time. “I didn’t see her car in the parking lot. Please tell me they didn’t suspend her.”
“They did,” she says, slamming her locker before turning her stormy gaze back to me. She must notice the horror on my face because her features soften a little before she continues. “In-school, though. You didn’t see her car because her parents also grounded her. No car and no phone.”
“Dammit,” I hiss, crashing my fist into the locker. “How’s she getting to and from school? Is she riding with you?”
Her lips press as she shakes her head. “Nope. She’s taking the bus.”
“The fuck? That doesn’t seem safe. What if she misses it?”
Arwen heads down the hall toward her next class, groaning with contempt as I follow behind her. “For the love of goddess, Thatcher. Saint is perfectly capable of getting on a bus.”
“Couldn’t you or Cole take her home?”
“We can’t.” She grimaces apologetically. “I promised Dad I’d come straight home today. He’s making me go with him to a benefit thing tonight. Some people are coming to the house to get me all dolled up. And Cole is working the event, so he has to get there early to help set everything up.” She comes to a stop outside her classroom as I curse, her hand landing on her hip as she regards me with a bored stare. “She’ll be fine. Promise. If you care so damn much, why didn’t you do anything to stop her from getting suspended in the first place?”
Sighing, I run my hands through my hair. “Hell, I didn’t think they would suspend her. It’s her first offense.” I point down the hall toward the principal’s office. “I’d storm into Dr. Shelton’s office right now if I thought it would make a difference. I’d trade places with her in a heartbeat, even if it meant enduring my father’s wrath.”
I’m sure my dear ol’ dad would love nothing more than to have a reason to take some of his frustrations about life out on me.
Arwen’s shoulders fall as her hand drops to her side. “Well, damn…now I feel like an asshole.”
“You should,” I tease, playfully shoving her shoulder. “Did she tell you why she was crying before class?”
Her eyes widen. “She was crying? Son of a bitch, I knew she was keeping something from me.” She chews on her lip as the warning bell rings. “You don’t think someone else was messing with her, do you?”
“Yep, and when I find out who…”
Arwen nods before heading into class. There was no need for me to finish that sentence. All three of us would make whoever hurt Violet pay.
After class, I make a beeline for the classroom where they keep the ISS kids. Joey was sitting in the back of the room during calculus again. Yesterday, I was so focused on trying to get Violet to talk to me, I didn’t pay much attention to the fact that Roberts wasn’t sitting behind her. When he caught me glaring at him at the beginning of class today, all the color drained from his face. If I were a detective, he would be my number one suspect.
Once I talk to Violet, I’ll know for sure. Even if she isn’t willing to tell me, I can read her like an open book. The room is empty by the time I make it there, so I head out to my car and pull around to the buses to see if I can find her. Violet shoots out of the front door, running after the third bus as it drives away. The driver doesn’t stop, leaving a panting Violet stranded on the sidewalk.
I shouldn’t laugh, but she looks like a toddler throwing a tantrum as she stomps her feet, her fists balled at her side. Her shoulders rise and fall with animation as she succumbs to her fate and begins walking. While I’m debating my next move, the gray sky opens, pouring down rain.
She stops in her tracks, looking up before flipping the bird.
Throwing my car into gear, I pull up beside her and roll down my window. “Need a ride?”
She doesn’t even bother looking in my direction before answering. “Nope. I’m fine.”
“Really?” I challenge as thunder booms over us. “It looks to me like you’re stranded in the pouring rain.”
She jerks to a stop, and I do the same as her head whips in my direction. “Thanks to you!” she shouts.
“Me?” I point to myself.
“Yes. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be driving home in my car right now.”
She’s not completely wrong. “You’re right, I’m a jerk. But you can’t walk home in a downpour.” I pat the passenger seat. “It’s warm and dry in here. Please, let me drive you home, then you can go right back to hating me.”
She purses her lips, as if giving it some serious thought, before letting out a relenting sigh. “Fine, but only because you said please.”
I bite down on my lip to contain my smile as she climbs inside, then hand her a hoodie from my backseat before driving off. All conversation comes to a complete standstill once she’s tells me where she lives—which was the only conversation. The silence is deafening as we head down the road, so I turn up the radio as “Running Up That Hill” by Placebo begins.
“I love this song,” she says, her words barely more than a whisper.
My eyes slide over to her as she snuggles into my hoodie, her tiny body rocking as she shivers. I turn on her seat warmer, and her eyes meet mine briefly. An appreciative smile graces her lips before her gaze moves to the passenger side window.
“I don’t hate you.”
Certain I heard her wrong, I turn the music back down. “What?”
Her wet clothes cause the leather seats to squeak as she shifts her body to give me her full attention again. My pulse races, but I keep my focus on the road ahead.
“Before…you said I could go back to hating you later. But I don’t hate you.”
My grip tightens on the steering wheel as my heart beats wildly in my chest. I’m not sure whether I’m angry or relieved by her statement. “You should.”
She takes a deep, tired breath. “Well, too bad. I don’t.”
“How could you…?” I shake my head in disgust. “After everything I’ve done…”
“You know, Thatcher, you’ve tried so hard to convince me you’re the big bad wolf. But I see the real you. I always have. I’ve seen your kindness when you thought no one was looking. Like the time you helped Agnus pick up all her papers off the floor after some asshole ran into her. And I’ve seen the way you are with Cole and Arwen. Evil people don’t care for others the way you care for them. There’s a big, beautiful heart inside that chest of yours. I only wish I knew why you were so determined to keep it hidden. One day, you’ll meet the one, and she’ll break that cage you’ve built around your heart wide open, forcing you to let her in.”
My head swims as we come to a stop at the red light. It feels like someone punched me square in the chest. The thing is, she’s already managed to break through.
My eyes slide over to her as I plaster a condescending smirk on my face. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, is that it, Saint?”
My hoodie falls to her lap as she crosses her arms, and my eyes roam over her glistening cleavage before returning to the road. “Yeah, as a matter of fact I do.”
“Interesting.” My foot slams on the gas. “I bet you thought Joey was a good guy too.”
“Joey?” The high octave squeak in her voice is all I need for confirmation. “What about him?”
“Come on, I know he’s the reason you came to class upset yesterday.”
“So what if he was?” She shrugs. “I told you before, I can handle myself. I’m not your concern, and neither is he.”
My jaw ticks as I let out a frustrated groan. “You are the most infuriating person I’ve ever met.”
“Right back at you, buster,” she quips, pointing up ahead. “You need to take the next right.”
“Fine, be stubborn.” She sucks in a breath as I take the turn without slowing down. “I’ll go ask Joey what happened myself, and there won’t be a lot of words involved in our conversation.”
“Seriously? Do you even hear yourself? Violence and anger never resolve anything. It only makes shit worse. Why do you even care?”
I hate the hurt in her voice. Doesn’t she get it by now? Me pushing her away is because I care about what happens to her—because I don’t want to see her hurt.
“Take a left onto Twin Johnson, then a right on Percy. It’s the second house on the right.”
I loosen my grip on the wheel and take a calming breath. “The douchebag made you cry. I’m not going to let that go.”
She huffs. “I’ve shed a lot of tears lately, and they had nothing to do with Joey Roberts.”
My stomach squeezes. That swing was meant for me, and she hit her target.
“Why are you trying to protect that creep?” I turn onto her street, debating whether I should keep driving until she tells me what I want to know.
“Are you honestly that clueless, Rebel?” She throws my hoodie in the backseat as I pull into her driveway, then wrestles with her backpack as she drags it into her lap.
“I guess I am,” I answer, throwing the car into park before turning to scowl at her. “Why don’t you enlighten me, Saint.”
Her eyelids fall as she draws in another long breath. When they open again, the vulnerability behind her baby blues rips right through me. “I’m not looking out for him,” she begins, tucking her matted hair behind her ear as she licks her pouty lips. “It’s you I’m worried about. Because, despite your best efforts, I care about you, Thatcher Michaelson.”
Reaching out, I cup her cheek in my hand, my heart crashing against my ribs. She leans into my embrace for only a second before shying away.
“But…you were right, this whole thing between us…it’s a disaster.” Her words feel like a blow to my head. I shift in my seat, creating more distance between us. When I don’t offer a response, she begins digging in her backpack, her words more rushed as she continues.
“You’ve been fighting with your friends. Now, you’re threatening to beat someone up because they upset me. And I’m doing shit I’m not proud of. I’m not the type of girl who gets suspended at school and grounded by her parents. We aren’t good for each other.” Her voice is strained by the time she finishes, and her hand hurriedly wipes across her face as she sniffles.
“Violet, I—”
“Shit!” she shouts, zipping up her backpack. “I don’t have my keys.”
Before I even know what’s happening, she’s out the door.
“Wait!” I plead, leaning across the console to see her better. “Where are you going? Do you want to use my phone, or I could take you—”
“No, it’s fine,” she clips, a coldness in her tone. “I can break in. Won’t be the first time I’ve done it and won’t be the last. You learn a lot when you’re a latchkey kid.” A forced smile spreads across her face. “So, thanks of the ride, but I’m good.”
She slams the car door, not giving me a chance to protest further, and runs to the covered porch. I stay parked, watching as she makes her way to the last window at the end. She removes the screen, looking at me briefly over her shoulder as she sets it aside, then makes quick work of opening the window. My chest feels heavy as she disappears inside, but I force myself to put the car in reverse.
This is what I wanted, but I wasn’t expecting it to feel this fucking awful.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
VIOLET
The dinner table was uncomfortably quiet. Neither my mom nor me willing to backdown. My stubborn side comes from her. Dad tried making lame jokes to lighten the mood, but there’s not much he could say about the situation without taking sides. My confrontation phobia comes from him.
As soon as dinner was over, I excused myself to my room, telling them I needed to study and wanted to get to bed early. It wasn’t a complete lie. I do have a chem test tomorrow. Apparently, ISS doesn’t excuse you from tests. I had every intention of going to sleep early tonight, but I’ve been staring at my ceiling for two hours instead.
My thoughts are running in a hundred different directions. It’s been a very interesting week, and it’s only Tuesday. In two short days, I’ve managed to cuss at one of my teachers, get suspended at school, fight with my mom, and get grounded. Not to mention the big scene with Joey with an audience of our peers.
A chill runs through me, and I snuggle into my covers. That creep put his hands on me like it was his right. Like I wasn’t even a person—merely a thing for him to possess. The asshole deserves to have the crap beat out of him. Someone obviously needs to teach him a lesson on the proper way to treat women.
Still, I couldn’t let that person be Thatcher. Arwen has told me enough about his home life and his father to know it would be very bad for him if he got in that kind of trouble. I don’t want that for him, especially not because of me.
How did I get here? I have legit feelings for Thatcher Michaelson. Crushing on him was insane, but now…my infatuation has transformed into something so much more. I’ve been slowly falling for Thatcher, but he’s made it clear he won’t be there to catch me. All I can do now is try to minimize the damage to my heart.
It wasn’t my plan to say all those things to Thatcher in his car today. Between coming to my rescue and being alone with him, I couldn’t think straight and ended up word vomiting all over him.
Then he placed his hand on my cheek, his molten eyes promising me the world, and I suddenly realized how much danger I’m in.
Thatcher Michaelson is holding my heart in his hands, and I was stupid enough to give him the key. If I don’t take it back, it might be lost to him forever.
I didn’t expect the look of hurt and shock on his face. After all, he’d told me repeatedly we would never work. I thought I was giving him what he wanted and saving myself in the process. Yet, there was a pleading in his voice when he said my name. Almost as if he was going to try to change my mind. And, let’s be honest, it wouldn’t have taken much for him to do so. Which is why I hightailed it out of his car.
It’s been an entertaining game, though. Thinking of all the different things he could’ve said to me in that moment. A great way to pass the time.
“Violet…I’m an idiot. Please forgive me.”
“Violet…I care about you too.”
“Violet…I screwed up. Please don’t give up on me.”
“Violet…I’ve been a gigantic asshole and you deserve better.”
“Violet…I—”
Tap, tap, tap.
My body goes rigid, my breath stilled as I listen for the sound again. One second, two, thre—
Tap, tap, tap, tap.
Yep, I’m certain the noise came from my window this time. The thump of my heart is angry, struggling to beat in my tight chest as I carefully get out of my bed. My eyes slide over to the lock on my bedroom door, not sure if confirming it’s locked gives me more peace of mind or less.
My hand is shaking as I pull back the curtains a sliver, sucking in a sharp breath when I see his familiar dark hair and black leather jacket. I stumble back, gasping.
What the hell is he doing at my window. Especially this late at night.
“Saint, will you please open the window?” he whispers.
I look down at my nearly naked body. The pair of cloud pajamas my parents got me for Christmas when I was thirteen don’t fit the way they were intended anymore. The tank top is skintight, and the shorts look more like underwear at this point.
“You better let me in before someone sees me.”
His taunt works, I’m throwing the window open without another thought of what I look like or what he’s doing here. The last thing I need is for my parents to find out, I’m in enough hot water right now.
He climbs inside without an invitation, his eyes skimming over my exposed body before settling on my face. I rush to close the window behind him. When he opens his mouth to speak, I urge him to stay quiet by placing a finger over my lips before turning my stereo on. “When the Party’s Over” by Billie Eilish fills the silence as I turn to face him again, my arms crossing over my braless chest.
“What are you doing here, Rebel?” I demand, being sure to keep my voice as low as possible. Our house isn’t large. My parents’ bedroom is only a few feet away.
He runs a hand through his thick dark hair. “I’m not entirely sure. I was driving around trying to clear my head and ended up here.”
“Wait…your car?”
He shakes his head. “It’s up the street.”
I let out a relieved breath. “So, what were you trying to clear from your mind?”
He takes a step toward me, closing the distance between us before bushing my hair off my forehead and away from my eyes. “You.”
“Oh… well, I don’t think showing up here is going to help with that.”
He chuckles, his eyes flicker to my lips as he wets his. “Yeah, I didn’t think this through. I just… I hated the way we left things today.”
“I don’t understand. I thought you—”
“I was trying protect you from all the high school bullshit. But you’re so freaking stubborn, and I’m weak when it comes to you. It’s too late now. There’s no turning back. We can’t undo what’s been done.”
My breathing is labored by the time he takes my face in his hands, his growing pupils giving away his intentions. “What are you saying?”
He responds by pressing his lips to mine, kissing me with a needy desperation that causes my core to heat. My brain is screaming danger, but the cries are being drowned out by the rest of my body. When he is kissing me, nothing else matters. Not the trouble I’ll be in if we’re caught. Not the risk of being alone with him in my room. Not even the possibility of my heart ending up in pieces when this is all said and done.
When the Saint Falls: a high school bully romance (Westbrook three Book 1) Page 13