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

by Katie May

I couldn’t deal with Dylan today. Not with my pain so raw.

  I made a move to walk past him, but he grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop. I blanched.

  “What’s in the shed?” he whispered darkly.

  “What?”

  “The shed.” He gave my arm a shake to emphasize his point. “You and those little boyfriends of yours have been going there a lot. What’s in there?”

  “Fuck off.”

  My show of courage dimmed slightly when his fingernails dug into my skin. No doubt, it would leave a nasty bruise.

  “Are you going to ignore your brother, little sister?” he mocked darkly, leaning forward. My stomach curdled as his lips brushed my neck, inching higher until he could nibble on my ear. Tears burned my eyes at the unwanted contact.

  Please, just let me go. Please.

  I didn’t know if someone heard my pleas or if Dylan was just tired of fucking with me. Either way, he released my arm and shoved me. The momentum propelled me forward, and I landed on the ground with a cry.

  “Stupid, clumsy bitch,” Dylan muttered. He glanced quickly from side to side, ensuring no one was in the proximity, before pulling his leg back and kicking me squarely in the stomach. I let out a gasp, tears stinging my eyes at the pain.

  “I hate you,” I whispered.

  Dylan knelt beside me with a small chuckle. His hand fisted in my hair, pulling my head back to stare at him directly in the eyes. I resisted the urge to spit in his smug face. At the moment, I was vulnerable. The last thing I wanted to do was antagonize the beast.

  “Love and hate are so close together, little sister. It becomes hard to tell one from the other.”

  With that ominous statement, he released my hair and sauntered away, whistling beneath his breath.

  Only when he was gone did a sob break free. And then another one. And then another. Soon, I was lying on the forest floor, tears cascading down my cheeks and hideous sounds escaping my mouth.

  It was only five minutes later when he, of all people, found me, still on the ground and still sobbing. He didn’t say anything as he sat down beside me, his hand going to the small of my back and rubbing soothing circles. He didn’t speak, didn’t ask me what was wrong, just comforted me.

  It took awhile for my sobbing to subside. Sniffling, I pulled myself into a sitting position and threw myself into his arms. He caught me, holding me to him and rocking me side to side. Once more, he didn’t speak. He was content with holding me, being there for me, and allowing the rest of the world to fade away.

  “Do you want to talk about?” he asked, his tone dark as he brushed my hair away from my face. I knew he saw the bruises on my arm from Dylan’s grip. I knew he saw me wince when I moved, the pain in my stomach not unbearable but definitely not comfortable.

  “No,” I whispered.

  Tanner nodded once before wrapping me back up in his arms.

  24

  Bianaca

  I remained rooted outside the door, fist raised to knock. My hands were clammy, sweat sticking my hair to the back of my neck. Shaking my limbs loose, I took a deep, calming breath.

  You can do this.

  After that admittedly pathetic pep talk, I rapped my fist against the dorm room door. A moment later, it was pulled open, and Heath’s psychopathic smile greeted me.

  “Bianaca. You came.”

  “You have information I want,” I said dryly.

  Honestly, it felt like I was in the midst of a drug deal. Soon, I would be handing over wads of cash, and Heath would give me a bag of drugs.

  Why did I always find myself involved in shady shit?

  With a swooping gesture, Heath stepped back and allowed me inside his sparsely decorated room. The white walls were empty except for a few photographs, each depicting a different landscape. A nightstand and a lamp flanked the simple wooden bed, and a television was mounted to the wall. While it was considerably nicer than my dorm room and ten times better than Beau’s, it was still unremarkable. Nothing screamed “Heath.”

  “As student body president, I’m able to get a bigger room than most students,” he said, noting the direction of my gaze. He didn’t sound cocky about his position, only resigned. “Over here.”

  He led me through a door that I had initially thought would lead to a bathroom. Instead, it appeared to be some kind of sitting room complete with leather chairs, a mini-fridge, and a gaming console. A simple card table and four folding chairs were set up in the very center of the room. A girl and a guy already sat.

  The guy’s back was toward me, but I recognized the girl immediately.

  Maria.

  Her white-blond hair was braided away from her face, and pink dusted both her cheekbones. Her glazed eyes rested on me as she toppled off her chair.

  “B! You arrived!” She greeted me as if we were best friends and not enemies.

  All I could see when I stared at her was Beau. His lips on hers. Her hands tangled in his golden hair. Their lips melded together.

  My stomach churned and tightened, the contents of my dinner mere seconds from decorating the white carpet.

  “Bianaca, I didn’t know you were coming,” the second voice said snidely. He swiveled in his seat, and this time, I was positive I was going to puke.

  Dylan.

  “What are you doing here?” My tone was scathing, bitter. Anyone with ears could hear the incandescent fury those five words exuded.

  “Playing poker,” he answered dryly. He stared at me as if I was daft, the condescending prick.

  Heath’s customary smile remained etched on his face, but his eyes tightened when he faced Dylan. Huh. The fearless class president obviously did not like my stepbrother.

  Dylan, of course, remained oblivious, white teeth gleaming in the artificial lighting. He extended his arms as if he intended to hug me.

  “Enough with the bull crap,” Heath snapped. This time, his smile slipped from his face completely. The man looked positively murderous. “I invited you all because I have something you need, and you have something I want.”

  “What exactly do you want, Heath?” Maria asked, voice lowering in what she probably thought was a seductive manner. In my humble opinion, she sounded more constipated than sultry.

  Heath leveled her with a glare that could cut glass.

  “The rules are simple,” he began, ignoring her suggestive remark. Moving briskly to the table, he shocked the hell out of me by pulling out one of the chairs and nodding for me to sit. Only when I was seated did he push it back in and move to sit on the left of me.

  Without his smile, those eyes appeared even more dead, more haunted. Hundreds of secrets lurked beneath his smooth-talking facade.

  “But we’re not playing this game for cash,” he stated ominously. His eyes strayed to Dylan’s first and then Maria’s before resting on mine. He seemed to have a way of innately commanding our respect and attention. Ensnared by his gaze, I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. “We’re playing for secrets.”

  Chills erupted on my skin. There was no breeze, but it felt as if I was standing in the Arctic Tundra naked. Goosebumps pebbled on my arms.

  “Secrets,” Dylan scoffed. He languidly kicked back in his chair, boots resting on the table. Heath stared at the offending limbs as if he wished to cut them off. Oblivious or just plain stupid, Dylan added, “I’m an open book.”

  “Really?” Heath’s cadence contorted, turning darker as the seconds dragged on. “Have you ever raped anyone before, Dylan?”

  My breath caught in my throat, and Dylan’s eyes widened slightly, almost imperceptibly. He quickly tried to school his features into one of indifference.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Don’t you?” Heath whispered. Before Dylan could deny it, Heath held up a deck of cards. That smile returned, once more causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. The hot and cold attitude Heath had perfected was creepy as fuck. “Let’s begin, shall we? Five cards stud.”

  With nimble
fingers, he dealt the cards.

  I had played poker before, back in high school with Beau, and the rules of the game were simple enough. With stud, you weren’t allowed to exchange cards. Best hand won the pot.

  Glancing at my cards, I spotted two black sevens, a king of diamonds, a five of hearts, and an ace of spades.

  “I bet one secret,” Maria said softly placing a white chip onto the center of the table.

  “It’s early,” muttered Dylan, adding his blue chip. Heath added his green chip as well, face carefully impassive.

  After a moment of hesitation, I added my red chip.

  “Show your cards,” Heath instructed. I waited with bated breath as the other three revealed their cards to the table. Maria had a three of a kind, Heath had two pairs, but Dylan had a straight. His smile was smug as he acquired all the chips.

  The game continued like that. Chips moved from hand to hand until even I had a hefty pile of blue, white, and green chips. I was able to gain most of my own chips back from the other three after they had stupidly bet against me.

  After an hour of playing, Heath announced it was time to cash in.

  Five secrets from Maria.

  Five from Dylan.

  One from Heath.

  I could ask them anything, and they would be forced to answer honestly. Of course, there was no guarantee that they would answer honestly, but I had to try.

  “I’ll go first,” Dylan said, flipping my red poker chip like you would a coin. He flashed me a tremulous smile. “Bianaca, darling, are you a virgin?”

  My teeth gritted at the intrusive question he obviously knew the answer to. Anger, hurt, and something akin to fear caused my heart to ricochet up a notch. I leveled him with my best glare, but I knew it would do nothing to deter him. My anger was only fuel to the fire. He relished in my pain, my fear.

  “No,” I answered, my voice drum-shattering loud in the suddenly quiet room. Maria shifted uncomfortably, almost as if she felt the palpable tension cloaking both of us, and Heath’s eyes narrowed further.

  “My turn,” I said stiffly. I held up Dylan’s chip. “Dylan, have you ever raped a girl or touched a girl without her permission?”

  My satisfied smile dimmed slightly when the asshole didn’t even squirm. He met my gaze steadily, hungrily, lips curling into a scowl.

  “Yes,” he answered without preamble. Without shame.

  Yes.

  That one word coated my skin like a dark, sticky tar. I couldn’t escape from it, from him.

  Heath growled under his breath, but Maria either didn’t understand what he’d just admitted to or didn’t care. She giggled softly, indolently taking a sip out of her beer bottle and burping.

  “My turn!” Her words slurred together. “Bianaca…which one of those guys are you dating? You know, the yummy ones. The sexy as hell ones. The ones I want to lick until they’re nothing but a popsicle stick—”

  “None,” I cut her off.

  Her brow quirked.

  “None?”

  “None.”

  At this, she pouted. “Well, that’s disappointing.” Her pout transformed into a brilliant smile, slicing her face in two. “So does that mean they’re single?”

  Before I could respond, Heath tsked disapprovingly. “That’s two questions. It’s my turn now.” Turning toward me, he shifted until his lips were a hair-breath away from my own. He spoke softly enough that the other two couldn’t hear. “Are you planning to escape?”

  All coherent thought left me. My jaw went slack, eyes widening, as the implications of that simple statement assaulted me. Somehow, someway, Heath knew.

  He fucking knew.

  When I remained silent, he leaned even closer, lips brushing against my own.

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  “Is that a threat?” I asked breathlessly. Both his question and his presence was doing something to me. My brain couldn’t compute his words.

  Stomach somersaulting, I held his piercing gaze. After a moment, he nodded and pulled away, seeing the confirmation in my eyes.

  I never did have a poker face.

  “That’s not fair. I didn’t get to hear the question,” Maria whined, voice annoyingly high-pitched.

  “Maria,” I broke in, diverting her attention. She smiled at being addressed, ruffling her blond hair. I knew I should ask Heath what I wanted to know. I knew I shouldn’t stir the proverbial pot. However, one secret slammed into me repeatedly with the force of a semi-truck. Try as I might, I couldn’t escape the need to know. “Did you have sex with Beau?”

  With bated breath, I waited for her answer.

  Those plush lips of hers pursed, the skin between her brows furrowing as she concentrated. Did she honestly forget who I was talking about? How many of those beers did she have?

  “No,” she said at last. “I tried to, but he rejected me.” Her lips curled downward at the memory.

  Mine, however, rose until my cheeks hurt.

  Beau had rejected her.

  He hadn’t slept with her.

  Around and around we went, each question more invasive than the last. The group asked me everything ranging from my family life to my sex life. Only Heath leaned forward to speak to me privately, much to the others’ annoyance.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Who’s going with you?”

  I knew I was breaking the rules of the game by remaining silent, but I couldn’t answer him. I refused to. The last thing I wanted to do was betray Aiden, Tanner, and Kace’s trust. And Beau’s, if I was being completely honest with myself.

  I kept Heath’s one token gripped tightly in my hand as the questions continued. Finally, the game ended, and both Maria and Dylan excused themselves. Maria, with a large hug and a kiss to my cheek. Dylan, with a slap to my ass that made me see red.

  I waited until they were gone before presenting the chip to Heath who was currently folding up the chairs. His eyes narrowed, eyebrows scrunched together, before he acquiesced with a decisive head bob. Nodding toward the leather couch against the far wall, he waited for me to sit down before moving to perch beside me. I appreciated the distance he left between our two bodies.

  I didn’t trust Heath any more than I trusted Aiden.

  “I won one secret from you,” I whispered.

  “I see that.”

  He waited, arms folded over his muscular chest.

  I had been thinking of what to ask, how to phrase my question, what would result in the most information. Finally, I settled on something simple and direct. “What’s on the other side of the wall?”

  For a long moment, he stared at me.

  His impeccably crafted expression gave nothing away. As I watched, transfixed, his eye began to twitch and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  “So you are escaping?” he asked breathlessly.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “No, I suppose I didn’t. But you need me, Bianaca. You need what I can offer you.” His voice was impossibly earnest.

  “And what is that?” I raised one brow until it hit my hairline.

  “Answers. Guidance. I can help you.” Leaning forward, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I know about the tunnels.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  That damn smile returned, and my hackles rose. Every nerve-ending was alight, fire racing through my veins.

  “You need me,” he repeated. “How else are you guys planning on getting past the monsters?”

  “Monsters.” My voice shook as image after image of Ali getting sacrificed played on repeat in my mind.

  “And you’ll need my help to cross Dante’s nine circles. So I’ll repeat myself: you need me.”

  “Dante’s nine circles?” I parroted, my brain threatening to explode from the overload of information.

  “Where exactly do you think you are?” Heath asked, finally leaning away from me. Though hi
s words were sharp, his eyes held nothing but morbid curiosity.

  When I didn’t answer, he began to laugh. The noise was not a jovial sound.

  “Baby girl,” he said once his laughter finally subsided. “You’re in purgatory.”

  Also by Katie May

  Tory’s School for the Troubled

  Between

  About the Author

  Hello!

  Well, I'm supposed to talk about something interesting. So I have two cats and two dogs (killing it). I am a romance author. I love to write and read anything with a strong, female lead and the men who love her.