by Elle East
“Back off. You’ve done enough,” Dean growled.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Grayson asked.
The two of them started arguing until I couldn’t help but moan in pain, and their attention turned back to me.
“Don’t try to move,” Dean told me.
“Nurse!” Archer yelled into the crowd commandingly. “Where the fuck is the nurse?”
The crowd around us kept growing larger, but I just concentrated on Dean’s amber eyes to keep from thinking about the pain too much. They were fixated on me, and he looked so concerned. He reached out and took my hand.
Despite the pain, heat rose into my cheeks and my hand started to tingle pleasantly in his. He was holding my hand. I couldn’t quite believe it. And even if it was just to keep me calm in an emergency, I would take what I could get.
The nurse finally came up onto the stage. The crowd parted to let her through, and I heard Archer say, “About damn time.”
She knelt down next to me and started feeling around my body.
“What hurts?” she asked.
“My left leg.”
She shifted and started running her hands over it. I was wearing my school-issued thigh-high stockings and suddenly realized my skirt had come up, exposing just the slightest bit of my cheap, white panties. I quickly reached down to pull my skirt back over my thighs, when at the same time the nurse touched my shin, and I screamed in pain.
I could see everyone around me jump. Dean looked worried, and he told the Kings to back up when they started coming closer again.
“You most likely broke your leg,” the nurse told me. “You’ll need to go to the mainland to get it x-rayed before we know for sure. Can you stand?”
“Uh, I’ll try.”
Using Dean’s hand to pull against, I shifted my body and tried to stand up on the leg that wasn’t as injured. As careful as I was not to move my left leg, pain still exploded from my shin. I tried to shift away and stand up slower, but it didn’t help much.
Everyone was just gathered around, silently watching me struggle to my feet. I couldn’t hold in another moan of pain when I put the slightest amount of pressure on my broken leg.
“Fuck this,” Dean finally said.
He swooped down and, as gently as he could, picked me up into his arms. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. He shifted me slightly, and I felt my body rub against the hard muscles underneath his clothes.
The Kings were looking at us darkly as Dean carefully stepped out of the wreckage of the stage and onto the ground. The movements caused bolts of pain to shoot up my leg, but I bit my lip to keep them inside. Having Dean carry me was way less painful than having to walk by myself.
As Dean walked through the crowd, everyone slowly parted to let us pass. The students were silent as they watched us. The looks on their faces were strangely blank. They weren’t looking at me with pity or sympathy, but they also weren’t smiling at me mockingly like they normally would when something bad was happening to me. I found their reactions unsettling and was relieved when we finally made it to the auditorium exit and slipped into the empty hallway.
The nurse followed us out.
“This way,” she said to Dean, and the three of us walked to her office.
On the way, Dean was careful not to shake me—as much as he possibly could. He carried me like I weighed nothing, like having me in his arms was the easiest thing in the world. I clung on to his muscular neck and rested my head against his chest. I could faintly make out the sound of his heartbeat, and it made me feel strangely close to him. Being in his arms felt so natural that I was almost disappointed when we reached the nurse’s office.
She gave me the strongest painkillers she had then called the harbormaster to request an emergency boat trip to the mainland. She also requested a car to be sent up to the school to pick me up. She then handed me an old pair of crutches she found laying in the back of one of her closets. I didn’t end up needing them though because when the car arrived Dean picked me up again and carried me outside.
It was already getting dark, and the gray sky looked like a solid piece of slate. Dean and I slipped into the waiting SUV and were driven down to the harbor. The nurse didn’t bother to come with us because she said she needed to stay at the school in case there were any other emergencies.
“You’re in good hands though,” she told me with a knowing look at Dean.
I wanted to tell her that we were just friends, but the way Dean held me didn’t make me feel like I was just his friend.
When we arrived at the dock, they already had the boat ready to go. Crestmoore had the ferry which was the main way to get to the island and ran regularly, but it also had three smaller, faster boats they used in case of emergencies like this one. Dean helped me out of the car and carried me onto the deck of the waiting boat.
As soon as we were on, the small crew of three started the engines and we were off. We sat in the small enclosed area, protected from the bitter cold of the outside air as the boat raced us back to the mainland shore.
I felt tired and dazed, both from the pain as well as the painkillers. I rested my head against Dean’s broad shoulder to steady myself. He didn’t stop me, and I was grateful. Feeling his solid, warm shoulder beneath my head was comforting and somehow just felt right.
We sat like that for a bit until Dean said quietly, “That wasn’t an accident.”
“I know,” I answered.
I closed my eyes and sank even deeper into the comforting feeling of his body against mine. I didn’t want to have this conversation right now. I was having trouble concentrating. I just wanted to relax and maybe nod off until we reached the shore—but Dean kept talking.
“It must have been the Kings. They want to get rid of you because they know why you’re here and they feel threatened. There was no way that was an accident. It happened right when you took the stage, but not when Archer and Brett were up there just minutes before? And they weigh a lot more than you. I saw the whole thing, and the way the stage collapsed right under the podium, but nowhere else looked so unnatural. And it was convenient it didn’t collapse anywhere near where the Kings were sitting.”
I couldn’t believe the Kings would seriously try to hurt me like that, but he was probably right. They were only acting concerned so no suspicion would fall on them. It hurt my heart to imagine they would actually try to seriously injure me—I could have been killed when the stage collapsed. Sure, I knew they would try to get revenge, but I never imagined it would be like that. I never thought they’d take it so far.
I took a deep breath, breathing the salty ocean air into my lungs.
“You should go, Maddy.”
My eyes sprang open, and I suddenly felt completely clear-headed.
“No. I can’t leave now.”
“Maddy—”
“No.”
I couldn’t leave Crestmoore yet. I wasn’t done. He sighed in frustration, and we slipped into silence as the boat raced across the dark water.
Chapter 9
The nurse was right; I had broken my leg. When we got to the shore, there was another SUV waiting to take us to the nearest hospital, which was an hour away.
Once we reached the hospital, it took hours for me to see a doctor, get x-rayed and treated. It was late into the night by the time Dean and I made it back to school.
Dean hadn’t left my side the entire time and luckily he hadn’t brought up me leaving Crestmoore again after mentioning it on the boat—and I was grateful for both things. After we had gotten back to the school, he’d helped me back to my room because I was finding it hard to get used to walking in my new cast with crutches.
I’d fractured my tibia bone and would have to keep the cast on for the next several weeks—and my leg was already itchy. Then I’d have to go back to the hospital to be reassessed.
Despite Dean’s protests that I should take some time off to heal, I went back to my classes the next day. I was determin
ed not to fall behind, and classes didn’t stop just because I was injured. I had worked way too hard to just let it slip away because someone had tried to hurt me.
I wasn’t a hundred percent convinced someone had done it on purpose, but I was ninety-nine percent sure. It was just too suspicious the way it had happened, like Dean said, why did it happen right when I took the stage but not when heavier people before me were up there? Why was the collapse only in one small area and not the rest of it?
I also wasn’t a hundred percent sure it was the Kings who had done it—but I was ninety-nine percent sure it was them. Who else had that kind of power and also wanted me out of the picture? The Kings had the most to lose by having me stay at Crestmoore.
I also suspected it could have been the Queens who did it, but the Kings had much more of a reason to take me out—plus, the Royalty all worked as one group anyway, so it didn’t really matter which of them had done it.
For the next few weeks, Dean barely left my side. He helped me get to and from my classes, and we ate all our meals together in the dining hall at our own loser table in the corner. He was amazing, and I didn’t know how to express my gratitude to him. The whole thing seemed to have rattled him, and he was seeing how serious the situation was at this school for the first time.
The Kings kept their distance. I assumed they were plotting their next move, but I was happy for the break. Being around them was painful and stressful, and even though I could always feel their presence like a dark shadow, when they were staying off to the side, my life was much easier.
The Queens were also keeping their distance from me, so there were no more cornering in the hallways to tell me how much I sucked.
Two days after the accident, Dean and I had tried to go look at the stage to see if we could find any clues, but it had already been repaired. I didn’t know how they had fixed it so quickly, but Dean and I both agreed it was suspicious.
Everything seemed tense and on edge. It felt eerie, like the calm before the storm. Like something big was coming, and we were just waiting for it to happen. I kind of hoped whatever the Kings had planned they would just do it and get it over with. I hated the waiting and the not knowing. But despite all the tension and stress, Dean and I were getting closer.
No one was actively bullying me anymore—especially compared to last year—but none of the other students were interacting with me either. Everyone was staying away from me, including the scholarship students. It felt like the end of last year when I had been so alone, but at least this time I had Dean so it wasn’t that bad.
One day, a couple of weeks into the year, I went to pick up Dean and head to one of our classes together, and found him talking to a few of the scholarship students. I knew he was friendly with Cecily and Ava, but he’d never mentioned being friends with the others. As I watched them all laughing and joking together, it reminded me of last year when I’d still been a part of their group. Still been invited to Saturday nights’ Moviefest and allowed to sit with them in the dining hall. Back when I’d still been their friend.
The sight made me feel incredibly lonely, like I was on the outside looking in. I turned and walked to class by myself. They were all having a good time, and I didn’t want to interrupt them and ruin it. I’d done enough ruining for one lifetime.
Late January came quickly. I’d been too preoccupied with keeping up my marks and hanging out with Dean to think about much, but I realized it was almost my birthday. The realization made me happy because I would legally be an adult and there was no way they could ever send me back to that horrible orphanage. I would be eighteen and could go anywhere I wanted—provided I could pay for it, which at the moment meant nowhere.
My upcoming birthday also made me a bit sad too. It made me miss my mom. We usually didn’t do a lot for my birthday. Sometimes she would throw me a small party for a couple of my friends and I, but most of the time we’d just do something together—which I liked better anyway. Last year, she got me a small cake, and we went to see a movie. It was perfect.
Since money was always so tight, I was used to not getting many gifts. When I was younger, Archer, Grayson and Brett would tell me about the presents they received for their birthdays and I couldn’t believe it. It had always sounded like they were describing an impossible dream. I never went to their birthday parties because their parents wouldn’t invite me, despite how much the guys begged. But when they’d tell me about them on the Monday mornings after they happened, I could barely understand what they were talking about.
Their world, even when we were children, was so different from mine. They received dozens and dozens of expensive presents. Their parties had clowns and jugglers and fire breathers. They got massive cakes that took two grown men to lift. They got all those things but yet didn’t seem happy about their birthdays. Meanwhile, I received a single sketchbook or a set of drawing pencils for mine and was ecstatic. I never understood how they could have everything but feel like they had nothing at the same time.
“What’s wrong?” Dean asked.
We were sitting at our loser table in the dining hall. I was pushing the pasta around my plate with my fork, barely eating anything. I hadn’t planned on telling him, but I wasn’t doing a good job of hiding I was sad, and he quickly noticed.
“You’ve barely said a word all day.”
I sighed before putting the fork down and looking over at his handsome face.
“It’s my birthday today.”
“Happy Birthday.” He smiled warmly, and I got butterflies in my stomach. “Isn’t that usually supposed to be a happy occasion?”
“Usually. It’s just that my birthday makes me miss my mom. We would always do something together to celebrate, and today is the first time where we can’t. So I’m just a bit bummed about it, that’s all.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok. It’s not your fault,” I said quickly and looked over at the large clock on the wall. The one with delicate brass arms and filigreed numbers. The one that probably cost more than some small country’s entire annual GDP. “It’s getting late. We should head to class.”
Chapter 10
That evening, I was spending my birthday alone in my room doing my math homework. I enjoyed math, but it was one of my weaker subjects, and I had to devote more time to learning it than some of my better courses. I still had one of the top marks in class, which I was very proud of. Brett and Archer were both in the same class as me, and I had the third highest mark after them—something I was determined to change.
I kept getting caught on a single problem, and I had just flipped to a blank page in my notebook to try again, when I heard a knock at the door. I hesitated for a second. Historically, a knock at my door late into the evening wasn’t a good thing and would bring me nothing but trouble. But I grabbed my crutches, stood up and went to answer it, wishing for the millionth time these doors had peepholes so I could see who waited on the other side.
I opened it and looked out. Dean was standing there dressed in his school uniform. Despite being a police detective’s son from New York City, he wore the preppy school uniform like he was born in it. The slim black pants, the white-collared shirt, the dark tartan tie, and the fitted black blazer all looked incredible on him. Many times I’d seen girls check him out after we’d walked by together down the hall. He never seemed to notice, or if he did then he never let on, and I found that endearing.
“Hey! How are you?” I swung the door all the way open.
I realized I was already in my pajamas and felt way underdressed compared to him. Having a cast made putting on pants difficult, so I’d given up wearing the black tights I normally wore to bed and just had on a long t-shirt over my underwear.
He didn’t come visit me very often in the evenings, but I understood because we spent so much time together during the day. But I’d fantasized many times about this exact scenario happening. Late at night, he’d come to my room and we could spend time together completel
y alone… as friends.
“Wait, is everything ok?” I asked, as I suddenly realized the reason he came could have been because something bad happened. Some emergency we had to take care of.
“Yeah, everything’s fine, but I just need you to come down to my room.”
“Uh, ok.”
I thought it was a weird request, but he didn’t seem like he was going to explain any further and it was not like I was going to say no. So I grabbed my key, put on my shoes and followed him out of the room, locking the door behind me.
The students hadn’t picked back up their habit of leaving bags of garbage in front of my door, and for that I was eternally grateful. I’d told Dean about it one day at lunch, and he couldn’t believe people could do things like that. I told him it was just par for the course at Crestmoore.
We walked down the five floors to his room. I was a lot slower than him because I had to try to avoid putting any weight on my healing leg and going down stairs on crutches was really hard. Dean didn’t rush and waited by my side as I struggled down.
When we finally made it to his room, I was slightly out of breath and my arms were sore. My upper body wasn’t very strong to begin with and having to support half my body weight on it was hard. My first couple of days of using crutches, I’d been so sore that by the end of the day my arms had been shaking. I’d built up a bit of muscle since then, but it was still the end of a long day and I was relieved when we finally made it to the ground floor. Walking on a flat surface was way easier than stairs because you didn’t have to pay as much attention or be so careful.
“What is it you wanted to show me?” I asked.
Without a word, he opened his door, and my mouth dropped open. The lights in his room were off, but the whole room glowed because it was illuminated by dozens of tall white candles with electric wicks. Soft music poured out into the hall.
“Wow,” I mumbled in shock.
