by Cassie James
“Watch your goddamn mouth.” Jax points an angry finger at him. He closes the distance so he can shove Patrick back again, but this time Patrick’s ready for him and holds his ground. “You keep letting your ego do all the talking for you and she’s going to get tired of dealing with your shit. I know I am.”
“Like you’re one to talk.” Patrick looks at him with all the disgust he can seem to muster—which is a whole fucking lot. “Or have you forgotten how your first instinct after sex with the perfect girl was to gloat about how you had her first?”
An angry rumble breaks from Smith’s chest. “You conveniently left that out when we spoke,” he says, his voice low and furious. Ace is tense, too, clearly just as angry to hear about what Jax said as anyone else.
So, basically, everyone is really fucking angry right now.
Everything is happening so fast, with way too much back and forth to follow. But if I thought the rest of the cafeteria was silent before, it’s nothing compared to the actual silence that descends as the cafeteria door bursts open and Headmaster Dupont storms in. He stops a few feet away from the commotion—Jax and Patrick both heaving as they try to catch their breath. They’re still eyeing each other like they might not be done fighting.
The headmaster stands with eyes blazing at the scene in front of him. I’m sure it doesn’t escape anyone’s notice that he glares at his son, in particular. “My office. Now,” he snarls. To everyone else he shouts, “Lunch is over. Go to class.”
Jax turns and walks right out. Privately, the headmaster says something to Patrick that no one else can hear. Patrick’s shoulders droop as he responds, his eyes darting over to me. Already, I can see the apology forming in his eyes. I have to look away. I can’t stomach seeing him looking that sorry after all the bullshit he just said. He said it all to hurt me, and this time it’s way worse than anything he said when I first moved here. Because this time his words came from a place of angry honesty rather than insecurity. By the time I look back, Patrick is walking out with the headmaster hot on his heels.
I can only imagine how furious his dad must be with him. Aside from the fact that he already has insane expectations of his only child, this whole thing looks bad. The headmaster’s son can’t be fighting at school—especially not with the governor’s son, of all people. The optics on that aren’t good.
Now that the show is over, the spell over the rest of our classmates seems to be broken. Talking picks up again, a nervous chatter as people start to leave like Headmaster Dupont said.
I’m frozen in place as everyone else starts to stream out of the cafeteria. The gossip is swirling as people try to make sense of what just happened, and I can feel the stares as they pass by me. Ace, Sadie, and Salma all form a circle, trying to keep people from staring at me as I drop my head into my hands. I let out a shuddering breath, using up everything in me to keep from bursting into full-blown sobs right now. After just a second, I look up again, blinking rapidly up at the cafeteria lights as I try to swallow down all the emotion fighting to break free.
Salma looks at Ace and Sadie. “You two go ahead. I’ve got her.” Ace looks like he’s going to argue, but Sadie nudges him and makes him go. I mouth thank you to her. If I look at him, my sweet Ace, the one guy that I’m solid with right now, I know I’ll fall apart for real. I wish it could be as easy to fix the rest of my problems as it was to strip down for Ace to fix the one I had with him.
Another minute passes with me trying not to cry in the now empty cafeteria as Salma rubs soothing circles over my back. She only stops when the actual bell for class chimes. “I’d offer to cut out of here with you and just skip the last two classes, but I think that would only make the talk worse.”
“I know,” I agree miserably. I’d like nothing more right now than to leave. Go home and curl up in my bed and try to forget this whole day ever happened. Or that any of it ever happened. Maybe I could create a little bubble for myself, an alternative universe where I returned to Patience but never bothered with school or friends or boys. Where I never asked questions and never had to face the ugly truths of where—and who—I came from.
No, I don’t actually want that.
Salma walks side by side with me out into the hall. Luckily for me, Headmaster Dupont dismissing everyone from lunch early means most people have already gone back to class. The hallway is nearly empty, so there’s no one to pretend for. I don’t have to hide the misery I’m sure is written all over my face.
“I should check on them.” I look towards the front office and even take a step in that direction, but Salma drags me right back.
“Woah. No way, girl. Stay far, far away from that mess right now. I’m sure Daddy Headmaster is livid with his little prince. You’ll only make things worse.”
“Can things really get any worse?” I ask.
Salma blows a breath out, her face sympathetic. “They can always get worse.” She keeps her hand on me to walk me to class, as if she doesn’t trust me to make it there on my own. We’re nearing the door when she glances over with me with a sly grin. “I just have to say that I had no idea that was going to get so dramatic. Shouldn’t multiple boyfriends—I don’t know—entertain each other instead of fighting or something?”
“Of course not. That would be too damn easy,” I grumble.
Ace is waiting for me when we reach the classroom. Salma lets go of me and I walk right into Ace’s waiting arms. I feel hot tears burn behind my eyelids as I bury my face in his chest. We stand there like that for a long time. Longer than we’re technically allowed. But when I walk into the classroom with bloodshot eyes and Ace with a tear-stained shirt, Mr. Bridges doesn’t say a word about us being late. Thank fuck for small miracles.
Chapter Twenty
I almost didn’t agree to come tonight for two reasons, both of which I’m thinking about as Sadie and I walk up the driveway together. One, I’m still mad as hell at the guys—minus Ace, of course. Two, this is the same house where I started to feel things really shifting between Jax and me. Allie’s house. The one with the fish tank room.
Sadie convinced me to come, anyway. We spent the whole afternoon together, her trying to force me to relax as she ran me all over town for everything from new outfits to matching eyebrow waxes. It was nice, spending time with her despite the strain that still exists between us. It’s hard not to feel like Salma took her place a little bit while Sadie was busy dealing with her addictions and lashing out at me when I know I didn’t deserve it. Still, the longer she’s sober, the more I start to remember why we became such close friends so fast in the first place.
We lose each other almost as soon as we get inside. The house is way more packed than last time. I hear some people mentioning they’re from the prep school two towns over. Apparently, news of this party really spread.
I make a loop of the house, keeping my distance even when I catch glimpses of the guys. They don’t seem to notice me, so I slip out of the room each time I stumble across one of them. I’m just not sure any of us are ready to talk. We’ve been avoiding each other since that scene in the cafeteria. Patrick and Jax both ended up suspended—turns out special privileges go out the window when it’s the governor’s son versus the headmaster’s son.
Smith has been avoiding me. I can’t even get him to take my calls so I can freaking apologize for our misunderstanding. The only one I’ve been okay with is Ace. He came and spent several evenings in a row sitting with me by Pearl’s bedside.
It’s gotten lonelier, spending time with Pearl at home. The nurses are quiet, trying to respect how much time Pearl spends sleeping now. It’s good for Pearl, but hard on me.
It was nice to have some time with Ace there to keep me company. It made it hurt less when she didn’t have any true lucid moments with me at all this week. Things have gotten so bad, and try as I might to distract myself, it’s always lingering in the back of my mind. I don’t know how much longer we have left. Weeks? Days? Hours? It makes me feel bad to be going out lik
e this, even though I know it’s what she really wants. I’m just terrified I won’t be there for some stupid reason when the time comes.
I don’t know why I’m getting so hung up on these thoughts right now. I can feel my face getting warm with the threat of tears. I get lucky and find Allie bee-lining straight for me at that moment.
“Hey!” I greet her. Her head jolts back in surprise as she offers an uncertain smile. I’ve never been the one to greet her first before. “It’s crazy in here. I could use a minute alone. Do you think…?” I let my question trail off.
“God, yeah, of course.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand like we’re sharing a moment. I let her because even though I wouldn’t consider us friends, asking for a favor isn’t exactly the right moment to act like an asshole to someone. Allie points to the stairs. “Turn down the hallway at the end on your left and my bedroom is the last door on the right. It’s off-limits to everyone else, so no one here will bother you.”
“Thank you.” I reach out and give her a quick hug that makes her face light up. She’s being a real lifesaver to me right now.
I follow her directions upstairs to the dark, empty room. It’s even better than I expected, with a bathroom attached and everything. I splash cold water on my face, trying desperately to clear my mind even though I know there’s no real chance of that.
I’m not in any real hurry to go back to the party. I walk back into the bedroom and let myself drop face first onto the bed, letting the bed muffle the strangled sound of frustration I let out. I catch myself wishing I could go back in time, but then remember that wouldn’t solve anything. Different time, different problems. There’s no point in time I could go back to where something wasn’t problematic.
After I don’t even know how long, I realize I probably need to go back out there. I haven’t seen Salma yet and I’m sure she’ll be looking for me. Ace, too.
I claw my way out of the comfort of the strange bed and say a silent goodbye to my brief haven. I’m admittedly a little distracted as I open the door to the hall. I pull the door closed and start to turn, smacking right into someone’s chest.
“Sorry,” I mumble as I take a step back. But then I look up and see who it is. “What are you doing here?”
Kareem smirks, leaning against the wall right outside the bedroom. “I’ll admit I expected you to be a little more excited to see me.”
“Then you’re delusional,” I retort, trying to brush past him.
He straightens to put his body in my way, blocking me in. I back up, reaching for the doorknob to the bedroom behind me. I don’t have a good feeling about this. There’s no one else in sight and the party’s so loud that I don’t know if I could even yell and be heard over the noise.
I don’t understand why he’s even here. This is a high school party. It’s not at his house this time, so he’s got no excuse for being here.
“Why so nervous?” he taunts me as he reaches out to brush the back of his hand against my cheek. I flinch, turning my head to the side. “Heard your little boyfriends got in quite the tussle. I’ll bet you’re feeling pretty lonely tonight.”
“Why do you even know that?” And why is he all up in my business?
He shrugs. “Salma’s loud when she’s talking on the phone.” I cringe inwardly as I think about all the raunchy conversations he’s probably heard her side of over the past couple months. What a fucking creep.
There was a brief moment when I first saw him that I would have considered him attractive. Now when I look at him I have to try not to shudder. His vibe is completely off. The kind of guy I would have kept my distance from in Nikon Park. The kind of guy I want to keep my distance from here, except he keeps going out of his way to seek me out.
“I’m ready to go back to the party, Kareem.” I gesture for him to let me pass. There’s a calculated look in his eye as he gives me a wide grin.
“I don’t think so,” he purrs, taking a step closer so that I’m forced to put my back flat against the bedroom door to avoid making physical contact with him. It doesn’t matter, he leans in anyway, erasing any sense of my personal space. I try to put a hand out to stop him but he bats it away.
“Kiss me,” he demands, bringing his mouth within inches of mine. I tilt my head down and to the side so there’s no easy way for him to close the distance.
“No.” My voice is hoarse.
He slams his hand against the door dangerously close to my head. I flinch and turn my face the other way. Why didn’t I just stay downstairs with everyone else? This isn’t like the game of cat and mouse I played with Jax. There’s something dark about Kareem. It’s the way he stares at me like an object instead of a person. There’s no playing chicken with Kareem, because I have no way of knowing what lines he’s willing to cross.
There’s no way in hell I’m going to kiss him. I glance down, trying to gauge whether I could just knee him in the balls and run.
He glances down and understanding dawns on his face. “Try it,” he warns, “And I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll be lucky if you can walk out of here on your own.”
I swallow hard, trying to tamp down the fear that rises up my throat. It’s clear I don’t want to have sex with him—it’s also obvious he doesn’t care. He’s making sure I know that’s a line he’s willing to cross. He wants me to be afraid of him. I’m sure he thinks fear will make me more pliant. The jokes on him. I’ve already had a lifetime of fear thrown at me. The only thing fear can do is make me focus.
Maybe there’s no playing chicken with Kareem but there’s still an advantage to catching him off guard. I make sure my fingers are clasped around the cool metal of the doorknob and I force my body to visibly relax.
“That’s better,” he murmurs. He reaches out and strokes my cheek again, letting his hand drop to work a path down my chest so he can cop a good feel. I hope he fucking enjoys it because it’s the last chance he’s going to get to touch me.
As he starts to lean in to try to kiss me, I turn the doorknob and shove it open, turning and darting into the room as Kareem stumbles. He’s quick to regain his balance, a snarl on his face as he steps into the room and slams the door closed behind him. My heart is slamming against my ribcage, and I know I’m taking a real risk now that we’re behind a closed door, but this is my one chance.
He creeps towards me, his body tensed like a wild animal as he stalks me across the room. I take two steps for one of his, but it doesn’t matter. His steps are bigger than mine. It doesn’t take long for him to be within reach.
“Don’t act like you don’t like it like this. You’ve fucked Jax Woods and I know all about his reputation. Don’t worry, though.” He grins. “I like it rough, too. The rougher the better. Which means the more you fight me, the sweeter it’s going to be when I’m inside of you.” The very idea of that disgusts me and I don’t bother hiding it.
Kareem’s grin widens. “None of your bitch ass boyfriends are here to save you now.” He takes another step forward and I take one backward, my back finally hitting the wall. I slide my left hand out, fingers brushing the thing I noticed when I first came in here.
I jerk my chin up. “I don’t need anyone else to save me.”
My words make him laugh, but I only smile sweetly back at him. Because I know something he doesn’t. Allie Townsend plays softball.
He screams like a fucking baby when the bat hits his knee. I wish it had been his dick I was swinging out, but I needed a much bigger target than the tiny prick I’m sure this guy has. “Fucking bitch,” he snarls, but that wasn’t his best move. I swing the bat again, wincing when this time there’s the unmistakable crack of the hit doing real damage. I’m not sure if it’s to the bat or Kareem’s bones—and I’m not interested in sticking around to find out.
I drop the bat and move faster than I ever have in my life, wrenching the door open and sprinting towards the sound of people. I’m not even to the steps yet when I slam into Patrick.
“Woah.” He grabs my shoulders
to steady me and must see the panic on my face. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” He’s frenzied as he looks me over but I know there’s nothing for him to see except my shaking body.
There’s no way for me to avoid it—I break into full-on, total meltdown sobs. I try to open my mouth to speak but I can’t get a word out. He pulls me to him and squeezes me so tight I can barely breath. “You’re freaking me out, Juliet. What’s going on?” I take a deep, shuddering breath and try to squeeze words out of my painfully dry throat.
“Kareem. He—” I can’t even fucking say it. “I hit him. With. A bat,” I whimper out in between sobs.
Patrick goes almost scarily calm as he puts his hands on my shoulders and pulls away to look at me again. “Did he hurt you?” he asks solemnly. I pause, but then shake my head no. “Did he try to?” he growls. I nod. He lets go of me, his eyes looking over my shoulder toward the hallway I came out from. “Go get Jax.”
I try to protest but the only thing that comes out of me is a blubbering sound and more tears. I can’t get the image of Jax shoving Patrick out of my head. I want him to ask for someone else, but Patrick peers into my eyes with a heavy, pointed look.
“I saw him out back a few minutes ago. Go get him, Juliet. Send him up here. And then go find someone to take you home.”
“No!” I manage to choke out. I’m not leaving. Especially not if something bad is about to happen. I need to know that everyone is okay. Patrick reads the desperation in my face and nods. “Find Ace or Smith. Have them take you out to wait in the car. Don’t come back inside until one of us comes to get you. Do you understand?”
I nod. It’s a compromise I can live with.
Patrick watches me reach the stairs before he turns and heads for the other hall. It takes everything in me not to turn back, to tell him it’s not worth it. That I don’t want him getting in trouble again because of me. But Patrick is a lot calmer than I am right now, at least on the surface, and he told me to get Jax.
