His head pops up instantly, and he grins wide as he stands from his seat. “Brielle, hi. I missed you in class today.”
I grip the strap of my bag tight as he comes closer. “I have a note.”
He nods. “It’s okay, I trust you.”
Keep smiling.
“I have some free time today, if you could use any help.”
He eyes me a moment, and then a slow smile forms on his lips. He’s across from me quicker than expected, his answer a low, chilling murmur, “Always.”
Pressure falls on my chest, but I breathe through it.
Royce is right here. He’s watching.
He pulls the door free of its stop lock, and motions for me to enter. “Please, come in.”
His hand begins to lower on my shoulder, so I quickly slip by him and into the room.
No matter how hard I try and convince myself to calm, my brain doesn’t hear it.
I’ve just locked myself alone in a room with a man I don’t know.
Society tells me I should be safe in his presence, that he’s an educator, a superior, but the world around me warns there’s no room for blind trust.
The man before me is capable of more than anyone would have guessed, and I’m here to expose him of this.
I’m the bait.
I pull my phone from my back pocket, clutching it in my palm just in case, but it’s gently tugged from my hand in the same second. I whip around. “Mr.—”
“Sorry, no phones out during correcting. It could distract you,” he cuts me off, steps past me, and sets it on the far side of his desk.
I want to argue that it won’t, but I don’t want to mess this up. Everyone is depending on me, and Taylor deserves to understand what happened to her, Enoch too, for that matter.
“And please.” He turns to me. “Call me Coach.” He grins, his hand slipping inside the drawer of his desk. “All my favorite students do, and all my favorite students also... get one of these.” He holds out a perfectly wrapped square with a far too eager smile.
“What is it?”
“A treat.” He smiles. “All girls love chocolate, right?”
When I hesitate, he holds it out farther. “Come on, no one has ever passed on a treat.”
That’s it.
The treat.
If I don’t accept, he might grow suspicious. If I don’t take it, this entire thing is a waste.
I reach out, and he places it in my palm.
“Go ahead, try some. I’ll get those papers for you, okay?” He nods.
I smile, setting my bag down and trail him toward the back of the glass. He steps into a corner storage room and I quickly tear the plastic wrapping open and break off a small chunk. With nowhere else to put it, I shove it into my front pocket, and when he turns back, act as if I pull it from my lips.
As he comes back, he rolls his sleeves with a smirk, his hands completely empty. Whatever he did back there just now, it had nothing to do with grabbing papers.
“You should sit down, Brielle. Get comfortable.” Just like that, his smile is gone, his eyes sharp... and roaming over my body.
I cut a quick glance at the clock.
Royce said he’d bust in at the nine-minute mark.
It’s been eight.
My mind begins to race, several scenarios playing out in my mind of how this is about to go down, but just as my smile grows and I take that seat as he asked, the clock ticks past the twelve.
The door isn’t thrown open.
To make it worse, Coach Von drops into the seat beside me, urging me to bite from the brownie in my palm.
I swallow, curling my toes in my shoes to try and keep calm, but I know my body, and I know it’s no use.
I lift a tiny piece to my mouth to appease him, my heart rate kicks up instantly. I know what comes next, and damn it, I’m not so sure I can stop it.
Where the hell are you, Royce?
Chapter 31
Royce
“Two minutes, let’s go.” I stuff my phone in my pocket, and all at once, me, Mac, Micah, and Captain step from Micah’s car. We rush up the back steps of the school and go to push through the gate, our momentum driving us backward when we push against it and it doesn’t budge.
My stomach falls to my feet, alarm threatening to send vomit up my throat.
“What the fuck!” I yank on it.
They yank on it.
Nothing fucking happens.
I take a few steps back, run, and scale the fucking thing, the others right behind me.
My shirt gets caught on the sharp metal, tearing slightly when I drop down and run forward, but as we reach the double doors, those fucking things are locked too.
We chose the back for a reason—their students aren’t allowed to exit this way, we wouldn’t raise eyebrows, but nothing should ever be locked like this. Ever.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Captain shouts, already rushing around to the front, Micah and Mac on his tail, but Mac skids, losing his footing, and turns back to me when he notices I haven’t moved.
“Royce,” he snaps.
I shake my head and jerk right, opposite of them. “This ain’t right. Go with Cap.”
He doesn’t argue, and I’m gone, jumping the garden fence and running down the green strip.
The gate and door was locked, bet the fucking classroom is too, and I’m willing to bet the fucker wouldn’t dare open it on his own, which means they’ll have to bust through.
He’ll know he’s a fucking dead man, and dead men run. He’ll have one option at that point and one option only. I need to take that away, because I’ll be fucking damned if the son of a bitch gets away.
Not from me.
People see me run by, but nothing registers, all I hear is her soft voice calling me, wondering where I am and why I’m not there like I told her I would be.
I stood there, right in front of her, looked her in her eyes and she trusted my word.
I brought her into this shit, said she could handle it. That she was strong enough.
She’s got survival skills—she found something to protect herself when she thought she was being attacked that morning on the bridge.
She’s aware—didn’t blindly drink the beer she’d left unattended, unaware I slipped a pill inside it but cautious just in case,
She’s daring and quick—put a plan together on her own and took care of Enoch without help.
She’s smart—knew what was needed for Taylor and how to handle her with care.
She’s brave—willing to walk into a lion’s den today... trusting I would be there.
I should have been and thirty seconds before promised.
No matter fucking what, I should have been.
I thought hanging back, staying out of sight so we didn’t raise questions was the smooth move, the one that would keep his guard down—everyone knows when we arrive, the charge in the air shifts, and he would have felt it.
I’m a piece of shit.
I fuck up.
I wreck.
So, wreck I fucking will.
I’ll start with Coach Von’s face... and then move onto something much fuckin’ harder. More devastating.
I refuse to paint her world black when she’s only begun to see the shades of the summer sun.
It’s with that thought I burst wide, running in a curved circle to gain momentum.
I don’t slow, think, or pause. I throw my arm up, my body forward, and bust through the fucking window. I catch his wide eyes the split second before I’m through the glass, and that’s all I remember, ‘cause in that same moment, mine are drawn to a frozen Brielle, clutching the arm of her chair, her eyes tight and, rapidly blinking, and on me.
She jumps up and dashes for me, but she bumps into a desk and stumbles a bit, catching herself on the chair.
I briefly register Mac’s slow and cautious voice from the other side of the door, urging me to open it for him and the others.
I don’t.
I notice
Coach Von’s shirt is unbuttoned, his belt undone, and everything around me burns black.
I hear faint screams, they may even be mine, but I can’t say for sure.
And right now, I couldn’t care fucking less, ‘cause Brielle is safe, but this bitch is still breathing, and I’m not okay with that.
I lunge for him.
Brielle
Royce’s eyes flash, blackness taking over, and it’s as if he leaves his body completely.
He’s raging, but his face is scarily blank as his hand shoots out to grip on to Coach Von’s shoulder, the other slamming into his stomach and knocking the air from his lungs.
Coach Von groans but doesn’t crumple and begins to straighten. “We were just—”
Royce’s palm darts up, cupping the back of his head and jerking it down. His knee slams into his ribs, sending him stumbling in the opposite direction.
Beads of sweat form along my neck when Coach Von growls angrily and begins reaching into his back pocket.
I dart forward, but arms wrap around me, halting my advance.
I think I scream. I don’t remember anyone else entering, but when I look over my shoulder, it’s Captain’s eyes I find.
Mine widen, relief mixed with fear swimming in my core. “Captain, please. Get him and let’s go.”
“Never going to happen.” His expression holds an apology, but his grip is tight and sure. “There is no stopping him right now.”
Damn it!
My chest pounds heavy, pressure threatening to close my throat and meeting my temples.
Royce wraps Coach Von’s tie around his neck and tugs, dragging him to his tiptoes before swinging him around and tossing him into the wall behind him. He doesn’t let him catch his breath, but lifts him and slams him on top of the desk, his back crashing down on the computer monitor.
Coach Von cries out, attempting to scurry away, but Royce leaps up onto the desktop.
Royce’s pulse throbs in his neck, the veins in his arms protruding, pounding heavily, matching the rhythm of mine. He swings his foot around, kicking the man square in the jaw, the crack of bone echoing around the room, and the light begins to dull.
Coach Von groans, hits the wall and glides down it, his body giving out on him, but the idiot dares to make a point. “You’re a fool if you think I’m the only one who wants her,” he pants in a low gurgle, swallowing and choking on his own blood. “That there is isn’t someone else out there waiting, watching.”
Royce screams like a madman and hops down right in front of him, shouts and drags him to his feet, forcing him to stand so he can get in his face. Blood trickles down the coach’s face, his eyes near swollen shut. Royce headbutts him, releasing him as he does and down he goes again
“Oh my god.” I struggle to get free, everything around me now free of color and beginning to cloud. “Captain, please, let go. He’s going to kill him.”
“I know,” his voice is a gentle whisper.
He gives up and begins to beg, pleading for forgiveness that falls on deaf ears.
Royce spins, picks up a chair and slams it into the wall. He bends, grabbing a broken piece of wood he can use as a bat and swings it between his palm.
I start to cry, glance around, and spot Maddoc now standing near the entrance, his eyes on Royce. A hint of unease is written along his brow, but he quickly erases it when he realizes I’ve caught it.
He shakes his head no and I growl, twisting and turning my hands, but get nowhere.
This is bad.
This is only going to get worse.
Tension lines my forehead, a heavy throbbing taking over not only my head, but my entire body. I try to take a deep breath, but it does nothing. I blink and blink again, but with each one, my vision only fogs more.
The fiercely pumping blood and high heart rate, this is what I’m supposed to avoid. Stress and anxiety, the very things this world is made of.
Royce screams something at Coach Von. I can’t hear it, but I see Coach Von’s decision before it’s made, he’s ready for his last-ditch effort, the one that will get him killed, right here in this very classroom. The man lifts a piece of glass into his palm. He’s yet to fight back, but he knows now it’s his life or Royce’s.
Everyone else sees it too. Captain’s hold twitches, his body growing rigid behind me, and Maddoc’s shadow has slipped farther into the room.
Royce must too, because his entire body eases, ready. Excited almost.
We know he deserves a fate much worse, but this isn’t the place to put the final nail into the coffin, the lead up to it, sure, but the end can’t be here where students could very well be watching from outside the busted window.
Captain quickly spins me around, rushing me toward the door, and shoves me to Micah who suddenly appears there and whips back around. I pretend to go easily, but slip away, sliding on my feet and darting around the far side of Captain.
Maddoc’s eyes shoot wide, and he lunges for me, but I’m already too far past him too.
Mac flies for me, eyes wide in panic, but we’re on the same timing and I’m two steps ahead.
I intend to approach them from the side, get Royce’s eyes to fall on me to bring him back to life, but two steps away, my condition takes control of me. My vision clouds, darkens, and then it’s gone.
Not a second later, my foot slides the wrong way, and I fall into something hard, whipping backward and slamming onto my back a second later, my skull bouncing hard against the floor.
It hurts, stings, but only for a second and then... nothing.
I choke on water as it’s poured over my mouth and chest, coughing and spitting it out as I turn my body, but a low cry slips past my lips and forces me back down.
My palms flatten out, finding something hard and cold.
Am I on the floor?
I need to open my eyes.
I take a deep breath, and a heavy throbbing whirls through my head, making me dizzy.
I open my eyes, but nothing is there.
I try again.
And again.
No. No, no no.
My hands fly up, moving over my eyelids and I blink, feeling my eyelashes flick across my skin swiftly. They’re open.
A sharp cry slips out. “No.”
Hands grab mine, moving them from my face, but I smack the person’s touch away and squeeze my eyes shut. My palms plant beside me and I scurry backward until I hit something warm and solid.
“Brielle, stop.”
Captain.
“Just breathe,” he continues. “Tell us you’re okay.”
“I can’t... I ...” I swallow. Hanging my head and covering my eyes. A hiss follows as I touch my face, and wetness coats my fingers. It’s warm.
Blood?
“Oh my god!” I try to stand, but I’m held down.
“Get the car, now!” This comes from Maddoc, but whoever he’s speaking to must not move fast enough, because it shouted again and three times as loud. “I said now!”
The floor vibrates beneath my body and moisture fills my eyes, finds my cheeks, and soaks my palms completely.
“Brielle, look at me. Let me see.”
I blink wildly in my palms, take a long and full breath, and lift my head.
My eyes are open, but I can’t see.
Blackness is all there is.
My cries are silent and have nothing to do with the ache on the back of my head or the burn along my temple, the sting in my chest, but everything to do with my stolen sight.
This is the longest it’s stayed black.
It’s normally only short periods of time, fifteen or forty-five seconds, enough time for me to panic even more, make it worse and then force myself into a calmer state.
It always works.
Why isn’t it working?!
“Why isn’t what working?”
I freeze.
“My... I...” I close my lids one last, long minute, leaving them that way for five full breaths, and when I reopen them, the room com
es back into view. It’s nothing but a shadowed silhouette, but I can see.
I see Royce helplessly slumped against the wall, Maddoc holding him up as his body hangs limp in his arms. His head is dropped back against the wall, lips parted, and brows drawn in.
With a black cloud surrounding him, he forces his gaze to mine and holds.
A shuddered breath pushes past his lips, his eyes squeezing tight.
And then he walks away.
Somehow, with nothing but a world of gloom and gray in front of me, his departure colors it spades darker.
My limbs grow too heavy to hold, a sudden wave of exhaustion overcoming me.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I gasp, my head spinning, my body breaking out into a full sweat.
The voices around me grow muffled, and my eyes close.
“She’s passing out again,” is shouted.
Darkness wins.
Chapter 32
Royce
I don’t remember leaving the school, but suddenly I’m standing in the middle of a hospital room, and everything inside me is deep and dark and fucking tragic.
I try to wash out the realization of the moment, but it’s creeping in, taunting me, mocking the parts of me that believed I could ever do right and reconfirming I’m nothing but a reckless fuck up who will forever remain one.
No matter how bad I wish I could be, the more Brielle claims she sees.
Fact is, I’m not more. I need to stop trying to be and embrace who I am.
I’m a dick, I ruin.
I break.
My goal for today, above all, was to keep Brielle safe. That was number one, and it went out the window the second I smashed through it.
I couldn’t control myself, and to be honest, I didn’t even try.
I wanted to fuck the man up as much as possible. He deserved a beating and more.
A good man would have wanted to protect his girl from seeing that.
Decent one would have at least cared.
I did neither and look where it led.
I went in there to protect my girl from harm, and I’m the motherfucker who ended up hurting her.
Break Me Page 32
