by J. L. Beck
Fuck them. The thought gives me enough strength to get up from the floor and throw the blanket and pillow on the empty bed rails. Raising my arms above my head, I give my body a good stretch before going into the bathroom and getting ready for class.
The first thing I notice as I take off my bed shirt is the finger-shaped bruises on my upper arms. I press down on the tender flesh, which is already turning purple. It’s sore, but I’ve experienced worse. These bruises will fade, but the memories of last night won’t. They will linger in the dark corners of my mind forever.
Checking the time on the clock, I realize I’m actually running late and kick my morning routine into high gear. I pull the clothes I hand washed yesterday off the shower rail where they are hanging to dry. I get dressed and slip into my sneakers, pulling my hair into a ponytail as I rush out of the room.
I’m in such a hurry that I don’t even notice the odd stares I get as I pass people. Everyone must have heard about the scene in the cafeteria yesterday because I don’t want to think about the alternative.
At least no one bumps into me on purpose, which is a step up from my average day.
I take the elevator up to the upper level and speed walk into the gym, where the instructor’s already started teaching.
Most students are standing around Quan in a circle, paying attention to what he is telling them. All except Quinton, who I spot leaning casually against the wall, looking bored.
Without even thinking about it, I walk around the other students and right up to him.
He turns his head toward me, raising an eyebrow as I approach. I force my feet to stop, wondering what the hell I’m doing? Why am I walking toward him, like a moth to a flame? I know better than to approach the beast, but here I am, marching right into his trap.
A grin spreads across his face, and he motions for me to come closer.
Shaking my head, I look around the room just as Quan announces, “Okay, partner up.”
Shit.
Scanning the crowd, I hope for a miracle of finding a girl willing to partner up with me. Of course, everyone just shakes their heads at me. It doesn’t take long for everyone to find a partner, leaving Q and myself to be forced together again. I trot over to him with my head held high.
“I don’t know why you even try. No one’s gonna partner up with you.”
“You don’t know that. Someone might change their mind one day.”
“They won’t,” he says, sounding nothing but sure of himself. “I’m surprised you came.”
“I’m not scared of you,” I lie. I’m terrified, but I’ll do whatever it takes to pretend I’m not. “And you can’t control me,” I add, that one is less of a lie.
“The second one might be true. I can’t control your mind, but I’m going to try anyway.” He winks at me like he just made a joke or said something flirty. “Now, come at me.”
“Huh?”
“Attack me. You came to class, so are you going to stand around for the next two hours, or are you going to train with me?”
“I was hoping to train with someone more my size. Not with you… again.” I fold my arms over my chest.
“You need to be able to fight off anyone who’s a threat, not only people your size. You think some guy in a back alley won’t attack you because you weigh less than him?”
Damnit, he’s got a point.
“Fine, let’s do this. Preferably without the choking me out part.”
“I can’t make any promises. It seems you bring out the worst in me.” He smirks, which gives me the push of anger I need. Using that energy, I charge him and throw my shoulder into his stomach. Or at least I try to. He easily grabs me and pushes me away like an annoying bug before I can even make contact.
Wrapping his arms around me, he takes me into a bear hug from behind, and his scent invades my nose. He smells as good as he did last night when I fell asleep in his arms.
“Get out,” he says casually like it’s an easy thing to do.
I start to wiggle around, but his grip around my arms is iron, pinning my useless limbs to the side of my body. Finally, I give up struggling and take a moment to catch my breath.
“I can’t get loose,” I say, defeated.
“Yes, you can. You just have to know how. I’m stronger than you, so we both know you are never going to overpower me. The next best thing is to be smarter than me.”
“How does that help me get away? I can’t use brainpower. I’m not a Jedi.”
“You have to use my body’s mechanics against me. Besides flailing around, try this. Drop your hips into a squat like you’re gonna piss in the woods. At the same time, put your hands on your chest like you’re a vampire. Bring up your arms and shoulders simultaneously. Then turn into my body and elbow me as hard as you can in the ribs. Do this all at once, and you’ll be free.”
I look over my shoulder at him in disbelief. I’m sure this is a trick. Some game he is playing to get me to do what he wants. I’m about to tell him to fuck off, but what then?
Honestly, my best bet is to play along. This is better than him threatening and assaulting me.
“All right, whatever. I’ll try it.”
I do as he instructs. It takes me two attempts before I’m able to coordinate the whole move, but when I do, it works. I get free and swing my elbow into his ribs, drawing a groan out of him. Shocked beyond belief, I watch with my mouth hanging open as he doubles over, cradling his side.
I knocked the breath out of him.
“Fuck. I didn’t know you could actually hit that hard.”
“I didn’t know either.”
He recovers quickly, straightening back up. “All right, again.”
We run through this move two more times before he shows me three more. I can’t seem to shake away the thought of this being some kind of joke to him, but at this point, I have no idea why he would offer to help me defend myself, even more so when he knows I could use these same moves on him.
By the time Quan lets us out of class, I’ve built up a good amount of sweat, and my muscles tense, telling me I’m going to be sore tomorrow. Quinton leaves class without a word or goodbye, not that I was expecting him to say anything.
Grabbing a bottle of water on the way out, I down it and fill up another one. I still find myself speed-walking back to my room. I need to grab a quick shower before going to my next class to avoid being stinky.
I’m alone in the elevator and thankful for the moment of solitude. When the doors open, I step out, keeping my head down. That turns out to be a mistake because if I had looked around, I would have seen Anja and Marcel waiting for me.
By the time I do see them, it’s already too late. There’s no avoiding them, and instead of hanging my head, I lift it high and stare straight ahead at them. Marcel is the first to react, a slimy grin appearing on his lips.
“Oh, look, it’s the rat scurrying away, ready to tell another lie about someone.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do than harass me?” I pipe up, refusing to let myself be walked on.
“Is it harassment if it’s true?” Anja adds, and they both break out into laughter. My cheeks heat, and I decide to hit Anja where it hurts.
“You’re just jealous because Quinton pays more attention to me than you.” It’s a stupid comeback and not my best, but I know it hits its mark when Anja’s nose wrinkles and her lips turn up in a snarl.
“He doesn’t like you. He likes tormenting you. There’s a difference.”
I mean, she’s not lying, but it doesn’t change the fact that he shows more interest in me than her.
I shrug. “Whatever makes it easier for you to sleep at night.”
Anja looks like she wants to punch me, and Marcel places a comforting hand on her shoulder, stopping her from following through on the thought.
I turn and continue walking toward my room. I’ve only made it a few feet when I hear Marcel yell, “That’s right, scurry back to your garbage can of a room, you dirty fucking rat.”
There aren’t many people in the corridor, but enough to draw a few eyes, leading to unwanted attention. I can feel their eyes on me, so I force my feet to go faster.
I’m down the hall and locked inside my room in less than a minute. Stripping out of my sweaty clothes, I hop in the shower, turning the water all the way to hot. At least I can let my muscles relax for a few minutes before I have to head to my next class. When I’m out there, I don’t have the luxury of relaxing. Everywhere I turn in this house of demons, I have to watch my back. People want me dead, and since they can’t kill me, they’ll do much worse things. I have to be prepared for anything.
15
QUINTON
The days pass in a blur, and I sink deeper into my routine. Breakfast, classes, and phone calls home. I do my best not to think about Aspen or the slight bonding time we shared in PE. I don’t care about her in any sense, and I don’t need her thinking I do. Still, I won’t lie. Her presence affects me in a deeper way than I ever thought possible.
I’ve just fallen back onto my bed when the door to my room opens, and Ren steps inside. He closes it behind him like someone else is in the apartment or something.
“What’s up?” I ask, a brow raised.
Ren runs a hand through his hair, almost like he’s flustered. “Matteo just showed me a video. It’s from the other day…”
My brows pinch together in confusion. “Yeah, what about?”
“What you did with Aspen. The forced blow job. Matteo took a video of it and saved it on his phone.”
Fuck. My first thought is to go and find the fucker and beat his ass, but I shove the thought away… for now. There will be a time for that.
“Look, you know I don’t give a fuck what you do, and I hardly ever make comments about shit. I mean, our parents are fucking criminals, but don’t you think…?” Ren drags his feet, and my frustration toward him mounts.
“You’re being weird and vague as fuck. If you have something more to say, then spit it out. When have we ever minced words?”
Ren shakes his head like he’s shaking away whatever is bothering him. “Never, which is why I’m telling you I think you took it too far.”
All I can do is blink while staring blankly at him.
Did he… did he just say I took it too far?
“What the fuck?” I lash out, unsure why he’s suddenly sympathizing with her. He was talking about torturing her when we first got here, and now a blow job is too much?
“I don’t want to piss you off, but the video just pushed it over the edge for me.”
I’m shocked, almost into complete silence. I don’t understand what he’s trying to get at.
“You have thirty seconds to explain yourself.”
Ren’s jaw tightens, and his eyes dart away from mine. Whatever he’s going to say, he knows I’m not going to like, and even less than what he said before.
“I saw the video, and then Luna called me a little bit after, and it made me think… if someone ever did that to her. I’d be filled with murderous rage. There would be nothing to stop me from slaughtering those fuckers.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel like shit, it isn’t working. You know what her family did to my family. You know the pain they caused.”
Ren frowns. “I do, but as your best friend, it’s my job to keep you checked in with reality. I can’t let you slip too far off the rails.” He pauses, and while he does have a valid point, it’s not valid enough to tell me that I have no cause for what I did. I don’t feel guilty for putting Aspen on her knees and fucking her throat. The only thing I hate is that there were others there to see it, but that’s what was needed to drive home the point that she is still lesser than me. “What if something like that happened to Scarlet? If someone did that to her? How would you feel?”
My sister’s angelic face fills my mind. The thought of anyone hurting her or touching her in a way that would make her feel degraded or less than ignites a fire in my veins. Still, all the anger from that statement gets directed at Ren.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I growl. “Scarlet and Aspen aren’t even on the same playing field, and that’s my fucking sister. Don’t ever talk about something like that happening to her again.” Anger rushes toward the surface, and it’s the uncontrollable kind. The kind I need to get out at the gym, so I can punch the sandbag instead of Ren’s face.
Ren shakes his head, a look of disgust filling his features. “What’s wrong with me? Why don’t you ask yourself that? You fucked a girl’s face in front of all your friends and recorded it. Then you let the other guys have a turn. If you ask me, it sounds like you’re the one with the problem, not me.”
“I didn’t let anyone do shit.”
“That’s not what it looks like on the video. You stepped away and let Matteo take your spot.”
“I stopped it right after,” I defend.
“The video cuts off after you are done with her. The last thing I saw was you walking away, and Matteo stepping in front of her. It didn’t look like you were making anyone stop doing anything.”
My hand clenches into a fist without thought. It would be so easy to swing at Ren right now, but one punch wouldn’t be enough for me. I need something deeper, and fighting with my best friend over what is right and wrong isn’t going to sedate the beast pulsing with life in my veins.
“Whatever, I’m going to the gym.” I push off the bed and grab my Nikes before brushing past him and out of the room.
I shove my feet into my shoes and walk out of the apartment, slamming the door behind me. Normally, I would walk to the gym, but I jog over, hoping to let some of the tension out.
That doesn’t seem to work, and as soon as I walk into the gym, I head for the sandbag and bang my fist against it until my knuckles ache. Then I head for the treadmill. I’ll exhaust myself before I get into a full-on fight with Ren, even if he does deserve a right hook to his nose.
I run for the next hour. The sweat pours off me, and my lungs burn, but it’s exactly what I need.
With each step I take, I consider what Ren said more and more. About how I would feel if someone did that to Scarlet.
Near the end of my run, I start to think about a way to make things better. I can’t take back what I did, not that I would if I could, but I could handle things with Matteo. I could go to him and make him delete the video, but the message that video brings is worth Ren’s backlash.
While it might make me feel a smidge guilty, that video will make others fear me. It will tell them if you mess with me, you could be next. Once I’m done running, I do some sit-ups, chin-ups, and light weightlifting.
Even after spending two and a half hours in the gym, I still feel ragey. Though the feeling has dimmed, it’s still there, simmering like a stew on the stove waiting to be served.
I leave the gym and head back toward my apartment, but after a few steps, I pause and turn around to start walking toward Aspen’s room.
It’s so fucking stupid how drawn I am to her. Not in a way that makes her anything special, but I feel this bond forming between us, a connection that is merely physical.
In this place, she is my outlet, and I am her savior, her protector of sorts, even if I’m the bully as well. Rat is still painted on her door, and I consider telling someone to fix that for her. I can use it as a tactic to get her to do something I want. I search my wallet for the key card to her room and slip it into the slot, smiling when it turns green.
I turn the handle and put my wallet back into my shorts as I walk into her room. I still can’t believe how tiny and cramped the space is. As soon as I walk inside, her head snaps up from where she is sitting on her small desk, a book with some half-naked guy on the cover in her hands, titled Pretty Little Savage.
“What are you reading?” I ask, closing the door behind me.
“I think the more important question is what the hell are you doing here? You do know this isn’t your room, right?”
I shrug. “It’s whatever I
want it to be. Now, what are you reading? And why are you sitting on your desk?
“I’m reading a book, and I’m sitting on top of my desk because I don’t like turning my back to the door in case some psycho walks in unannounced.”
“I told you, I’m the only one with a key.”
“The person I’m referring to as the psycho is you.”
“You are really mouthy today. Didn’t you learn anything from your lesson the other night?”
“The only thing I learned is that you are a monster.”
“Would a monster bring you a blanket so you don’t freeze to death at night?”
She lets out a humorless laugh. “Do you think because you give me some bedding, you’re suddenly a good person? Or that it makes up for you and your friends assaulting me?”
“I never said I’m a good person… hell, maybe you are right. I am a monster. So why not embrace it?” She wants a monster? Fine, I’ll give her one.
“What do you want?” she asks, her voice slightly trembling at the end.
“I want you to take off your clothes—”
“No. Not happening.” She climbs off the desk and steps away from me.
“I can make you do it.” I stalk toward her. She takes two steps backward until she is at the wall with nowhere else to go.
“Then do it,” she taunts. “But I will never do it willingly.”
Her statement has me grinding my teeth together. She’s right. I can control her body, but not her mind, and that pisses me off more than I can say.
“How about a deal? I’ll get you a new mattress.”
“So you don’t have to fuck me on the floor? No, thanks. I’d rather you be uncomfortable too.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest defensively, but all I can see is her tits being pushed up.
“You’re right. The mattress would be for both of us. What else do you want?”
“I don’t give a shit about a new mattress. I’ll still sleep behind the bed.” She nibbles on her bottom lip, thinking. “What I really want is for you to keep Matteo off my back. If you promise me that, I’ll do whatever you want… for one hour.”