Between (Tory's School for the Troubled Book 1)

by Katie May

Somehow, someway, my monster had found its way from under my bed and was standing in front of me.

  My body trembled, fear and anger battling for dominance. It was my fear that won, and I raced down the hall in the opposite direction of him as if I was on fire.

  One word reverberated through my head, a motto and a prayer.

  Escape.

  I pushed open the bathroom door and flung myself into the nearest stall. Dimly, I was aware of tears cascading down my cheeks and landing on my lips.

  He couldn’t be here. I had thought I had left him behind, left that part of my past buried.

  But, as promised, Dylan Holebroke had found me.

  8

  Bianaca

  I used to fear the dark.

  It—the darkness—was where my monsters hid. It was the place I had lost my innocence, my hope, until all that remained was a bitter, frightened girl.

  In some twisted way, the darkness was also my savior. With it, I couldn’t make out his face. The lust I knew would be emanating from his eyes. The curve of his lips. Instead, I saw only a silhouette. It allowed me to believe, if only for a moment, that what happened was just a dream. A nightmare.

  But with any darkness, light always seeped through. This light wasn’t necessarily a good thing. It just meant that I saw everything with vivid clarity for the first time in my life.

  My mind propelled me backward, toward a time I wished to eradicate from my mind.

  I held the blade loosely, surveying the bright silver in the artificial lighting. My body was shaking, but my hand was surprisingly steady.

  As I narrowed my eyes at the offending object, I could’ve sworn it whispered seductive promises to me. Ways to diminish the pain that threatened to consume me.

  And that was all I wanted…for the pain to stop.

  I brought the blade down on my wrist, tears blurring my eyes. They tasted salty—like blood.

  The second it would’ve touched my sensitive skin, I paused.

  Why should I let Dylan continue to control me the way he had? He shouldn’t be allowed to dictate how I felt about myself and my body. Still, I couldn’t deny that ever since that night, I felt ugly and used. Unwanted. A discarded scrap of trash tossed to the side of the road.

  It would be so easy…

  I just needed something, anything, to soothe the mental anguish. The mental pain. What would be a better solution than physical pain?

  With that thought, I brought the blade once more to my skin. A strangled gasp escaped me as blood welled, a deep, vivid red.

  I never knew blood could be so red, so bright. It screamed at me against my pale skin.

  Sobbing, I brought the blade back to my skin, parallel to the first mark, and began to cut again.

  And again.

  And again.

  I was pulled out of my thoughts by a bathroom stall opening and closing. A collection of giggles and heels clanking against the linoleum tiles of the bathroom floor.

  Wiping my tears on the sleeve of my blouse, I stood reluctantly, flushed the toilet despite the fact I didn’t use it, and stepped outside. A few of the girls gave me quick glances, no doubt noticing my red, blotchy face, before turning back toward one another. Nobody asked me if I was alright, and I didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse.

  Washing my hands, I shouldered past the throng of curious teenage girls and into the hallway. My breathing was embarrassingly loud, and my heart threatened to pound straight out of my chest.

  What was he doing here?

  Was this some twisted, fucked up joke by the universe?

  Stumbling over my own two feet, I made my way down the hallway. I knew that the majority of the students were in the cafeteria, but the last thing I wanted to do was surround myself with people. They always saw too much, heard too much, assumed the worst. For some undefinable reason, my life felt like it was under a microscope. One wrong move and I would be dissected.

  Beau would be waiting for me, but he couldn’t know. Not him. He would see straight through my smile in the way only Beau was able to. I could never hide anything from him no matter how hard I tried.

  I tried to gorge the image of Dylan’s face out of my mind, but it remained imprinted. Taunting me. Laughing at me. A scream threatened to escape me, but I kept it in check.

  At least until I entered my room…

  I yelped as I ran into a warm, muscular body. The apology on my lips faltered when I met Aiden’s dark eyes. His tongue was absently swirling around his lip ring, and I wasn’t going to lie and say I wasn’t hypnotized.

  “Where are you running off to, little one?” he asked mockingly. Only then did I rip my eyes off his lips and meet his dark, piercing gaze. The amusement diminished when he took stock of my expression. Fury replaced it almost instantly. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

  He cast a quick, predatory look around as if the person who had hurt me was lurking behind a damn flowerpot waiting to jump out and say “boo.”

  “Why does it fucking matter?” I asked, attempting to bypass him. His hand gripped my wrist. It wasn’t painful by any means, but I was already so riled up from seeing Dylan that I involuntarily flinched.

  Aiden released me as if I was acid, eyes darkening even further.

  “Who hurt you?” he demanded. And that was what it was—a demand. He would not take “no” for an answer. This was the type of man who was used to getting his way, used to people falling over their feet to please him.

  Unfortunately for him, he had never come across the likes of me.

  He was giving me whiplash with his hot then cold attitude, and I was getting damn tired of it.

  “Fuck off,” I hissed, spinning on my heel and stomping down the hall. I had no destination in mind—hell, I didn’t even know where this particular hallway led me—but I knew I couldn’t be around Aiden a second longer without being arrested for murder. The man annoyed the ever-loving shit out of me.

  “Is this how it’s going to be?” Despite me practically running, his long legs were able to keep pace with me. The condescending, asshole smirk was once again etched across his face, but a fire still burned in his eyes. A fire that promised vengeance and pain. I couldn’t decide if that pain was directed at me.

  “How is it, Aiden?” I said his name as if it was something vulgar, a curse word, and I was at church. “Me walking away from you? Me telling you to fuck off and leave me the hell alone? Because I can tell you this is exactly how it’s gonna be.”

  His eyes flared briefly. At first, I thought it was anger, anger toward me, before I realized…

  “You kinky shit,” I mused in disbelief. “You like when I talk back to you.”

  One glance at his erection tenting his pants confirmed that he was, indeed, aroused.

  “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think you’re behind Josie’s disappearance.” He shared this with feigned nonchalance, but I could see a brief flicker of pain in his eyes when he spoke of his missing sister. That pain was replaced by anger, so strong that I gasped. “And I would be more than happy to kill whoever put that haunted look in your eyes.”

  I gaped at him, wondering if he was serious. After a moment of silently staring, questioning his sanity, I shook my head and continued walking.

  “You’re insane,” I decided. “Next you’re going to tell me the proper ways to dispose of a body.”

  He smiled cruelly. “That’s more Tanner’s expertise. Apparently, a tub of acid would do the job just nicely.” He paused suddenly, grabbing my waist to spin me around. “There’s a reason they call us the Three Horsemen.”

  “Because you bring destruction,” I said breathily. His proximity was messing with my brain cells. If he did this to me, I had no doubt he could completely destroy any lesser woman or man. He, and the rest of them, were dangerous. It was unsurprising they left a trail of destruction in their wake. The most beautiful type of storm but destructive, nonetheless.

  “Everything but death,” he agreed. He leaned closer
, and I was suddenly assaulted by his scent. Woodsy. Smoke. Outdoors. I didn’t know why it comforted me as much as it did.

  “Until you find the fourth horseman,” I pointed out. I needed distance from him. Now. Hundreds of miles still wouldn’t be enough. He had his own magnetic field, and like the idiot I was, I was helpless not to be drawn into it.

  Pressing my hands to his chest, I shoved. There was no way I would’ve been able to move him if he wasn’t willing, but he must’ve sensed my sudden surge of anxiety. His hands disappeared inside his pants pockets as he leaned against the wall.

  “When we find our fourth horseman,” he began, words a seductive purr, “you can bet your ass that this world will burn. And when the person we love is threatened?” His lips flattened. “Everyone will die.”

  9

  Bianaca

  I remained in my room, staring blindly out the window. At one point, it had begun to rain. Thunder crackled overhead and lightning struck, illuminating the sky in palest gold.

  I barely processed Beau sitting beside me on the bed, wrapping his muscular arm around my waist. He held me to him, content to comfort me and hold me together when I wanted nothing more than to fall apart. He didn’t ask me what was wrong—he knew I wasn’t in a state to answer—but he didn’t let go of me, either.

  Hours passed. We moved only for bathroom breaks and to sneak snacks from the cafeteria. Still, my stomach began to growl, having only eaten one granola bar that entire day.

  E-A-T, he wrote on my skin. Goosebumps erupted wherever his calloused finger touched me. I shivered delicately.

  “I’m not hungry,” I whispered, focusing once more on the bloated, angry storm clouds prowling overhead and the pelting rain. Beau leveled me with a no-nonsense scowl. Before I could protest or assure him I was fine, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet.

  I didn’t complain as he led me outside, beneath an awning that shielded us from the worst of the storm, and to the cafeteria.

  “Princess, I’m surprised to see you here,” a snide voice said from behind me. I rolled my eyes but did not allow Aiden’s presence to deter me from my goal.

  My goal: eating as much food as humanly possible until I could continue in my wallow of self-pity and teenage angst. Healthy, I know.

  “In the cafeteria?” I snapped, barely sparing him a glance as I piled my plate high with spaghetti. “Eating?”

  I was becoming increasingly pissed at his devaluation of women. He deserved a good kick to the balls. With cleats on. Metal cleats. Cleats made of knives sounded appealing…

  “That’s not what I meant,” Aiden said with an eye roll.

  “Look, I don’t give a shit ‘what you meant’,” I hissed, throwing his words back at him. “You said it yourself…you don’t think I’m behind Josie’s disappearance. Leave me the hell alone.”

  Aiden clicked his tongue ring against his teeth, the sound oddly seductive. Decadent.

  “I’m afraid that’s not a possibility anymore,” he said lightly. His eyes shone with humor.

  What I wouldn’t give to shove a poisonous dildo into that smug, smiling mouth—

  Beau stopped whatever retort burned on my tongue, one arm lazily resting on my shoulders. Aiden’s eyes narrowed on the limb before his smile widened.

  Crazy, psychotic bitch.

  “Come,” he said, nodding toward the table we had sat at last time. My cheeks heated when I thought of our encounter.

  The salty taste of Aiden’s finger…

  The bulge in Kace’s pants…

  And then my thoughts drifted to Tanner’s sensual show just that morning. The feel of Beau pressed against my back, arm spooned around me, hand inches from my breasts…

  Down girl, I scolded mentally. I really had to get fucked. My damn ovaries were practically putting up ads on Craigslist: Wanted. Four Men to Find a Home Within My Pussy.

  So fucking dramatic.

  My vagina, that was. She acted like she hadn’t been fed in years.

  Beau paid for my dinner, and I reluctantly followed him toward the table that housed the Three Horsemen. Only Tanner sat there currently, his feet kicked out and a lighter in his hand. As I watched, brow furrowing, a brilliant flame emerged. Tanner stared at the flickering flame with awe. Wonder. Reverence.

  When he caught me looking, he shoved the lighter into his leather jacket pocket and flashed me an indolent grin.

  “If it isn’t the little gymnast,” he cooed.

  Throwing myself into the seat opposite him, I gave him the finger.

  “There is nothing little about me,” I practically purred, running a hand down the cleavage my shirt revealed. Tanner’s Adam’s apple bobbed, eyes riveted on the swath of skin exposed. “You, on the other hand…” I trailed off, satisfaction filling me when Tanner’s cheeks turned red and he huffed out his chest.

  Beau snickered, covering his mouth with his hand when Tanner turned his glare onto my best friend.

  “As much as I love measuring penises,” Aiden deadpanned, “I would rather talk about you.”

  He pierced me with a stare that put all other stares to shame. He took tall, dark, and sexy to a whole new extreme with that one eloquent look that made words unnecessary. Once again, he was demanding things of me I wasn’t sure I wanted to give him.

  “There’s nothing interesting about me,” I huffed, glaring at my spaghetti. I swirled it around my fork, my appetite suddenly forgotten.

  “You sure? I think flexibility is quite interesting,” he said.

  “Why do you always have to make things a sexual innuendo?” I asked absently. Tentatively, I took a bite of the spaghetti. Knowing my luck, psycho Aiden would’ve poisoned it. Lure me in with a false sense of security…and then bam. Murder me.

  It wasn’t poisoned, at least from what little I knew of how poison tastes (which was nothing at all), but it was salty.

  Like Aiden’s finger.

  “It’s only sexual if you make it sexual,” Tanner pointed out.

  “How did I make it sexual by pointing out he made it sexual?” I jabbed a finger at Aiden’s chest across the table. When the asshole opened his mouth to respond, and no doubt confuse me further, I blurted, “Where’s Kace?”

  His energetic presence was noticeably absent.

  Aiden and Tanner exchanged a quick look. It was only a second, but it allowed me to know everything they weren’t telling me.

  Whatever they said next was going to be a lie.

  “Sleeping, probably,” Tanner said dismissively. Too dismissively. Too nonchalantly.

  How ridiculous would it be if I sang “liar, liar, pants on fire”?

  I thought of the last time I had seen him. The look of terror on his face seconds before he was slapped. The hand-shaped, red imprint on his cheek. The anger burning in his eyes. They were hiding something from me, and I was damn near determined to get to the bottom of it.

  Aiden stiffened suddenly. His hand darted out and grabbed my own, squeezing tightly. I glanced at him in confusion before turning a quirked brow to Beau. Beau, however, was staring at the offending limb as if he hoped he could burn a hole through it.

  “Keep your head down and don’t fucking say anything,” Aiden hissed, releasing me and bowing his head. His long, ringed fingers absently picked apart his sandwich as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  But I could see the tension in his powerful muscles, the rigid way he held himself.

  “Head down,” Tanner snapped, kicking my shin. Obediently, perhaps recognizing the plea in their command, I lowered my head. Beau, beside me, did the same.

  When the professors entered the cafeteria, they didn’t walk. They glided. The footsteps had an eerie absence of sound, which made the beating of my heart all the more oppressive and haunting. I could hear nothing but my own heart pounding in tandem to their rhythmic steps.

  With bated breath, I glanced up through my fringe of thick lashes, ignoring Aiden’s hiss of disapproval.

  They moved to form a c
ircle around the perimeter of the cafeteria, their masked faces staring at no one and everyone.

  Static crackled overhead from the school’s intercom. A mechanical voice echoed over the speaker.

  “Juliet Hudson,” it said. I couldn’t decipher any gender. It just…was.

  A trembling girl stood from a table near ours. She couldn’t have been older than fifteen and had a light cascade of bleached blond hair and way too much eye makeup.

  The moment she stood, two of the professors rushed forward and grabbed each of her arms.

  I couldn’t help my sharp intake of breath.

  This didn’t remind me of a school…this reminded me of prison guards transporting prisoners.

  Beau’s fingernails dug into my thigh, and I turned my hand over to capture his own, locking our fingers together.

  “Ali Griffin.”

  I stiffened as the girl I had talked to only yesterday, the girl who had warned me about the guys, was yanked from her seat. Sobs shook her body, but the professors—if you could even call them that—did not relent. They dragged her kicking and screaming out of the cafeteria.

  They listed a few more names, all in that mechanical voice, and a few more students were dragged out of the room. It went in one ear and out the other. Their screams. Cries. That damn, grating voice…

  I couldn’t process what I was seeing. Hearing. Experiencing. A part of me didn’t even want to.

  My hands shook.

  “What the hell—” I began, my voice a whisper. Aiden leveled me with a glare that would make any sane person shit their pants.

  The glare did nothing for me—I already knew I was insane.

  “Shut the hell up,” he hissed.

  Beau’s hand was tight in mine; I knew for certain that he was going to leave crescent-shaped indents in my skin from his fingernails.

  We waited a minute in silence. It felt like hours. It felt like years. Time moved slowly when you were scared, I realized. Like molten lava sludging down the base of a volcano. There should be an entirely new time system for fear.