by Bella King
“We are alone,” Trent replied, motioning behind himself at the two other people occupying the large room.
“Technically not,” I corrected, growing tired of his antics.
“Technically, I don’t give a fuck,” he replied. “I’ll get you alone eventually,” he said, raising his eyebrows a few rapid motions.
“Not if I can help it,” I replied.
“Too bad you can’t,” he said, his voice filled with glee. “Watch this.”
Trent walked away, leaving me standing beside a cold metal table, somewhat curious as to what he was doing. There were only two other people in the room, and Trent heading straight for one of them.
I sat down at the table and propped my head up with my hands, watching him as he approached a short, grumpy-looking young man who already seemed to be experiencing an alarming amount of hair loss. I guess the stress of Bayside was wearing him thin already.
Trent leaned over to him and whispered something into his ear, shaking his head like he was saying something unfortunate. The short man suddenly turned his head to the other man in the room, a tall, skinny, blonde man with his hair thrown up in a bun. He looked pissed.
Trent patted the man on the back, giving him a knowing look, then began to make his way back to me. He smiled at me triumphantly as he walked back toward me.
The man behind Trent sprung into action when he left the table, rushing over to the blonde man who was minding his own business. He looked up, seemingly surprised that this short man was hurrying toward him angrily.
“What did you say to him?” I asked Trent as he sat down at the table with me.
“Nothing much,” he replied with a shrug.
I watched in horror at the short man immediately threw a punch upon arriving at the tall man’s table. They began shouting and wrestling each other over the table, punching and kicking as though their lives depended on it. Perhaps it did, with the brutal way students fought here.
Trent chuckled as the short man took a boot to his groin.
The guards certainly took their time coming in to break up the fight. I had to watch the men bleed and bruise before anyone came to stop them from killing each other. Eventually, three guards came in to prevent permanent damage, but that wasn’t before they made a mess out of one another.
“Holy shit,” I said as the guards dragged them out, undoubtedly taking them to solitary confinement.
“I told you I would get you alone,” Trent said once the heavy metal door slammed shut.
I looked around, finding that he was correct. There was nobody else left in here but us. For a brief moment, I considered starting a fight with him just to be dragged out too, but I thought better of it. That would likely have long-term consequences outside of detention. Trent might send his gang after me if I got physical with him.
I sighed, putting my face in the palms of my hands. “What a nightmare,” I grumbled.
“Hey, don’t be sad,” Trent replied mockingly, “You have me to keep you company.”
“That’s exactly what I don’t need,” I countered.
“Well, that’s what you have, so why don’t we talk?” he asked.
I lifted my head, looking at his strikingly handsome face. It was so hard to be combative when I was staring right into his blue eyes. I would have thought he was innocent with eyes like those, but I knew the truth. He was terrible.
“What brings you to Bayside?” he asked, cocking his head to the side and trying to sound casual.
I didn’t want to tell him. He was probably sourcing information to use against me in the future. He wasn’t nice, and he couldn’t trick me into thinking that he was just trying to make conversation.
“How about you tell me why you’re here first,” I said, tracing a finger along the small diamond-shaped holes in the table.
Trent smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Sure,” he replied, probably happy that I had agreed to make conversation with him. “I broke into some old man’s house around three in the morning. You would think the bastard would be asleep by then, but apparently not. He took a few shots at me, and I barely escaped with my life. The cops picked me up half a mile from his house and took me in. The rest is history.”
“Why did you want to rob an old man?” I asked.
“They have more money, usually,” he said simply.
“Yeah, but that money isn’t yours,” I replied, not approving of his behavior.
“I don’t care,” he said. “I’d do it again if I had to.”
“You don’t need to rob people, Trent. There are honest ways to make money.”
He laughed. “Really? Do you mean like your rich parents giving it to you? Here’s something you might not realize. I don’t have rich parents. I have an alcoholic mother and a run-away dad,” he said, his voice growing bitter as he spoke.
Touchy subject. I felt bad for him, but that didn’t justify robbing innocent people. Plus, I wasn’t as clueless as he made me out to be. I knew that people were struggling out there in the world without money. I was one of them now that my father had been sent to prison.
“You’re not clever, talking like that to me. You don’t know my story,” I said.
“You won’t tell me,” he said, shaking his head. “But then again, I’m not sure I actually care.”
“Either way, you’re not getting it,” I said, crossing my arms.
Trent stood up and walked around to my side of the table, sitting down uncomfortably close to me. He placed a large hand on my back. I shuddered as the warmth of his touch leaked through my blouse and stained my skin underneath with an awfully intense feeling. It wasn’t just a touch. His body communicated with mine.
I pulled away slightly, but he didn’t remove his hand. Instead, he leaned in more, lowering his voice. “Samantha. You can’t run from me. You can’t hide the truth. I want to know everything about you,” he whispered, his voice smooth and deep.
“Why?” I managed to ask, my voice cracking in the process. I didn’t know why, but I was afraid of his touch, for more reasons than how dangerous he was.
“So that I can destroy you, darling,” he answered, his face breaking out in a crook grin.
“I won’t let you do that,” I said quietly, unable to regain my composure just yet.
“You will,” he said, leaning back. “You’ll do anything I say.”
I could finally breathe once he got out of my personal space. The air had been intoxicating and too thick to breathe with him there. It felt risky to be that close to him. There was no telling what he would do. There was no telling what I would allow him to do either. It was difficult to think when he was that close to me.
“Was that I threat?” I asked him once he was far enough away again that I could talk at full volume.
“It’s whatever you want it to be,” Trent replied, “but it’s the truth.”
I scoffed at him. Did he really think that I was going to let him walk all over me like this without any consequences? He may have had his gang of thugs to do his bidding, but that didn’t mean he would rule over me. My father had taught me to be independent and never to trust a man. The meaning of his words was much deeper now that I knew his true history as a mafia boss.
Part of me wanted to tell that to Trent. Maybe he would leave me alone if he knew that I had mafia ties. My father said that once I got out, his people would make sure I was safe. Even from prison, it wasn’t like he couldn’t help me. He had enough connections to pull some strings if need be.
On the other hand, Trent might laugh at me, thinking that I was a liar. He might find a way to use what I said to him against me. There was no way for me to know. He was clever, but I was more so.
Trent drummed his large fingers against the cold metal table, looking into the distance. “I would like to warn you, Samantha, that you’re walking on thin ice without my protection.”
This again? He didn’t want to give it up. I didn’t have money to pay him with even if I wanted to. He was out of h
is mind thinking that I would accept his gang’s protection. I didn’t need it, and I certainly didn’t want it.
I looked over at him as he continued to stare toward the opposite side of the room, his eyes unfocused. I shook my head and chuckled. “You just won’t give up, will you?”
“You’ll see what happens when you don’t pay,” he said.
“What, are you going to send your goons after me?” I said, taunting him.
“No,” he replied dryly. “I don’t need to. The whole school will know what an uppity rich girl you are in due time. You’re screwed out there on your own.”
I rolled my eyes. “Except for, I’m not rich.”
“You’re so stupid, it’s not even funny,” he said, finally looking at me.
“I’m not stupid, asshole,” I said. He was such a prick.
“You are,” he said casually. “You’ll get what’s coming to you.”
“Stop it,” I said, heat rising to my face. I stood up and glared at him. “You have no right to talk to me like that.”
He let out an evil laugh. “The world doesn’t work in your prissy little rich-girl way, Samantha. I’ll talk to you in whatever way that I want.”
“Fuck you,” I said, throwing my hands up. I couldn’t win an argument with Trent. He would just keep digging in and antagonizing me like he was doing now. There was no point in getting heated with him. He even seemed to enjoy it, but it stressed me the fuck out.
I stormed away from the table, wanting to get as far from him as I could. While I couldn’t completely escape his presence because we were in detention, I could at least get far enough away so that he wouldn’t be able to speak to me. I was through with Trent.
I made it to the opposite end of the room and threw my ass down on the hard bench connected to the table. The detention room was large enough to separate Trent and me from one another successfully, but I remained suspicious that he would attempt to follow me. Surely, security would grab him if he did that. Maybe that was wishful thinking.
I looked up at the large clock that hung from the wall, calculating how much longer I would have to watch its cheap plastic hands tick until the final bell rang, and I was free to go.
5 hours, and I would be eating lunch in detention as well. Fuck.
I glance in the direction of Trent, checking to see if he had moved. He hadn’t. He sat with his hands clasped together, staring off into space like he was zoned out entirely. I envied his ability to do that, but he probably had plenty of experience in detention. He seemed like the type of person to come here a lot. It really didn’t take much if I was used as an example.
I mimicked his stance, placing my hands together and gazing off toward the blank white wall across from me. I couldn’t zone out, so I counted the bricks, making a game in my head where I would have to recount each row three times before I could move to the next one.
I worked my way from the top to the bottom but reached it too quickly. I needed something more interesting to occupy my time. Last time I had talked with Emily, which made the time go quickly. The only person I had now was Trent, and I’d rather die of boredom than go back to his table.
I focused on the wall again, trying to find places where the thick white paint connected the slabs of stone together over the cement used to stick them together. The building was sturdy, but nobody had bothered to make it look nice. The wall had enough odd details to keep me occupied.
…For all of ten minutes. I looked up at the clock to find that very little time had passed since I began studying the bleak wall in front of me. For a woman like me, boredom might as well be physical torture. I had heard of people losing their minds over simple boredom. It can really fuck you up.
I was having a difficult time. I glance back at Trent, who was still sitting like a stoic in the same position as before. He hadn’t moved an inch. It kind of pissed me off that he was having such an easy time in detention. It was almost like it wasn’t even punishment for him. Maybe he even enjoyed the peace and quiet.
Trent, even when he wasn’t doing anything to me, still managed to bother me. I knew that I was ridiculous, but that was in my nature. I had never had to deal with a man like him before, so I let him consume a large portion of my mental energy. It was immature, but I was inexperienced.
The clocked ticked by so painfully slow that I could have sworn that time was slowing down just to get on my nerves. Maybe they had the detention clock set to a slower time. It felt like it was at 80% of its normal speed.
I returned my focus to the wall, then closed my eyes. It was so bright in the room that I could see the red on the inside of my eyelids. I wouldn’t even be able to take a nap if I had wanted to. With Trent in the room, I wouldn’t dare.
I opened my eyes and looked back up at the clock. One minute had passed. At this rate, I would die of old age before the hour was up. I began to stand up, but then sat back down. My mind was going wild inside my head. I wanted to pace around the room, but that would make me look crazy. I couldn’t show weakness to Trent.
Speaking of which, he was still in the exact same position as before, his expression blank as he stared into space. His face was softer when he wasn’t snarling insults at me. He was deceptively sweet-looking, aside from the gnarly tattoos that covered his body all the way up to his neck. If he hadn’t spent so much time getting inked and built at the gym, he would look like a nice guy.
I shook my head and pried my eyes off Trent. It wasn’t good for me to be ogling at him like that. Even if he wasn’t looking at me, he could probably still see my gaze from his peripheral vision. I didn’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing that I enjoyed looking at him.
I told myself it was because he was like a freak show with all those tattoos and muscles, but my body told me otherwise. I always grew excited when I saw him, and his scent relaxed me just as much as he made me furious. He smelled like cotton, cedar, and long nights in the south. In another world, I would have fallen for him instantly.
Bayside wasn’t far enough from reality for me to get sucked into his games, though. I recited the words my father had told me in my head.
“You’re strong, Samantha. You can do this,” he had said.
I cried when they took him away. I was a mess. Being separated from my father three years after my mother died was devastating. I would have sunk into depression had it not been for the fact that I was thrown into Bayside soon after. I was too distracted by survival to think about my father too much.
Now, I was back on the self-pity train, sitting alone in detention for several more hours. First, my mother had passed away from cancer. That had been awful enough, but that’s also around the time when my father started working more, and our wealth grew a lot in the following years. He took work more seriously because it was a distraction from her death. I just didn’t know what his work was. I always assumed he was a regular businessman.
After that, things began to improve. I didn’t see my father as much, but when I did, he was always very loving. He would do anything for me, which made me feel a bit guilty when I got caught with his drugs. I knew that it wasn’t my fault. If anything, it was his for putting me in danger, but that didn’t change the fact that I wanted to blame myself.
Once my father was locked up, and I was on my way to Bayside Academy, I was in the worst state of mind. Sure, I wasn’t as bad as Emily, but I was damn near close. Things actually began to improve once I started school because I had more things to distract me from my thoughts. With Emily’s death and Trent’s constant harassment, it seemed like things were going back to awful. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could handle it.
As much as I hated Trent, boredom won its battle over me, and I got up from my seat. I walked over to him, trying to leave my bitter thoughts behind at the other table. It was better to have company at this point than to get lost in my own head and go insane. That’s what it felt like while I was sitting at the table thinking about my past.
Chapter 3
I
slid into the seat across from Trent, staring at him directly in his unfocused blue eyes.
A smirk spread across his face. “I knew you’d be back,” he said.
“No, you didn’t,” I replied.
Trent finally moved his body after being still for the past half-hour, lifting his fingers to press them into his eyes as though I was giving him grief. “I know everything, Samantha. You’re pretty easy to read.”
Me? Easy to read? I didn’t think so. “What am I thinking about now?” I asked, challenging his bold claim.
He squinted at me, his eyes dancing from one of my eyes to the other. “You’re thinking about telling me why you’re here.”
I rolled my eyes. “Nice try, Trent, but I’m not going to tell you. That’s not something you need to know.”
“Why are you at my table then?”
“This was my table until you arrived,” I reminded him.
“My, my, you are entitled now, aren’t you?” He mocked.
“Stop it,” I said, placing my palm flat on the table between us. “I only came here because I was dying of boredom. Don’t make me go back over there.”
“Sure, I was just stating the obvious,” he said coolly. “What would you like to talk about?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“Well, let’s discuss Emily then,” he said.
I stood up. “I said I wasn’t going to tolerate you doing this.”
“Relax,” he said, motioning for me to sit back down. “You’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”
“I doubt that very much,” I said, but I sat back down on the metal bench.
“I have proof that Emily was murdered,” he said, a devilish grin spreading across his face.
“Bullshit,” I replied, but I felt my stomach tying itself in knots. He didn’t look like he was lying.
“Samantha, I’ll just assume that you’re ignorant as opposed to stupid for now. By now, I would like you to know that I know ninety percent of what happens between the four miserable walls of this school. It’s a closed system, which makes it easy to monitor when you have enough eyes working for you,” Trent explained.
