by Mae Doyle
She flaps her hand at me like she’s waving away my argument. “Victoria is good,” she agrees, “but she’s nothing like you. You played that piece with so much heart. Like you really loved it. I’m impressed, Elle, I didn’t know that you had it in you.”
The only reason that I had it in me is because I was thinking about my dad.
“Thanks. It’s one of my favorites.” I want to talk to her and would love to tell her more, about my dad, about my life, about Clay, but I can’t. There are some things that other people just don’t understand, and I know that as great as she is, nobody can help me out of my hell. “Well, I should probably get off to class.” I pick up my case and stand there awkwardly for a moment before Mrs. Ward steps to the side.
“Of course, Elle. You should. But let me ask you something – can you make it to a performance tonight? It’s pretty last-minute but you’ve been practicing with us in class. Our strings group is going to be performing for some parents and students and having you there would be wonderful. It would a great way for you to jump right into being a part of the group.”
This is the last thing I want to do. I’ll have to get Ted or my mom to give me a ride and I debate telling her no for a moment, but she looks so eager. Mrs. Ward is easily my favorite teacher at Kennedy Academy, and not just because she’s nice.
She reminds me of my mom, back when my dad was alive. I know that I can’t let her down.
“Of course.” I swallow hard. “What time do we need to be here?”
“Seven. Oh, Elle, you made my day. If you want, you can leave your violin here so that you don’t have to carry it around all day long. What do you say?”
It does get a little frustrating to try to navigate the busy halls without accidentally hitting someone with my case. And keeping an eye on it at cheer practice is annoying, so… “That would be great, thanks. It’ll be nice to know that it’s here waiting on me.” I smile at her, realizing as I do that it’s the first time I’ve really smiled since I came to Kennedy Academy.
She reaches out and takes my violin and I watch as she tucks it into place by her desk. I feel a little pang as it disappears from sight, but I have to remind myself that it’s going to be perfectly safe. Safer, in fact, than if I took it around school with me all day.
“I’ll see you tonight then. Wear black pants and a white shirt if you have them so that everyone looks cohesive, okay?”
“You got it, Mrs. Ward.” I flash her a thumbs-up and leave the band room. It’s amazing that I finally feel like I belong. All it took was crying over my violin. Hell, I would have done that when I first came if I knew it would be that easy.
Grinning to myself, I start walking down the hall. It’s nice to be happy for a change.
Being a part of the cheerleading squad is fun, sure, but music has always been my passion. There’s nothing like knowing that you can move people and make them feel different emotions just by playing a song. Besides, I’m pretty sure that the cheerleaders are only being nice to be because they’re afraid of Bethany and Clay.
I almost can’t believe it, but I’m in a great mood while walking to my locker. Sure, I have to deal with bullshit from the Brysons, but as long as I have a way to escape, I can still be free.
Clay may hate me, but he can’t take my music from me. Nobody can.
That’s what I tell myself as I walk to my first class. I’m early, but it’s AP biology, so there’s no harm in getting there a little early to get some extra studying in.
Clay
It’s only luck that I’m at school early to make sure that my new pads fit. It’s only luck that I see Elle walking out of the band room, happy as a pig in shit. It’s only luck that she doesn’t see me.
This is a golden fucking opportunity if I’ve ever seen one, and I’m not going to ignore the fact that it just dropped right into my lap. I should head straight to English, but I have a little detour that I need to make first.
This is the first time that I’ve ever been in the band room, and I can tell that the teacher in there is as surprised as I am. “Good morning,” I say, putting on my sweetest face and looking around. This room is huge. Band geeks don’t need such a giant space. Our team could definitely use it for additional weights, but there’s no way we’ll get it.
Kennedy Academy prides itself on having such a great music program.
“Can I help you?” The teacher walks over to me in a swish of skirts and smiles. She looks like a damn hippy and is probably about as smart as a rock. This is going to be easier than I thought. A wave of perfume washes towards me and I wrinkle my nose.
“Yeah, I just saw Elle leaving here. She’s amazing, isn’t she?”
The teacher smiles back. “Elle is wonderful! She just made first chair violin and is going to be joining us tonight at the football dinner.
The football dinner. You have got to be fucking kidding me. Every year our team and parents have to come here for a stupid dinner and presentation by the coach, and every year the strings group comes and plays stupid music that nobody wants to hear, but everybody has to listen to.
We all sit there, half-drunk from our flasks, and pretend to give a shit about Mozart or Bach or some old dead guy. It’s a fresh hell, that’s what it is.
But Elle’s going to be playing tonight? I must say, I wasn’t looking forward to coming and having to listen to another boring presentation and performance, but the night is looking up.
I knew that Elle played an instrument since I’d seen her carrying that dumb case around with her through the halls, but I had no idea what it was. “She must be pretty good then, huh?” I’m fishing, but this woman is too damn stupid to know it.
She beams. God, she’s stupid. “She just made first chair violin! I don’t think that she could believe it, but once you hear her play, you’ll know why. She just…feels the music in a way that I haven’t seen other kids do in a while.”
She feels it, huh? And plays violin? I bet that she just loves her stupid little instrument. The thought of her playing music for us tonight makes my cock twitch. She won’t have any idea that I’m going to have a little surprise for her.
Then it hits me.
Elle loves her violin, but she wasn’t carrying it with her when she left the band room.
“Did she forget it in here? I noticed that she didn’t have it, and I can take it to her if you want. We’re becoming really good friends.” Maybe I’m laying it on a little thick, but I can’t help myself. If I want to be able to give Elle a surprise, then I need to make sure that I have access to her precious little instrument.
The teacher looks surprised but tries to hide it. Bitch. “No, it’s right here.” She turns and pats a case that is tucked by her desk. “I told Elle that she could leave it here since she has classes and then cheer practice and would have to lug it around all day with her and then try not to forget it at home. She was pretty excited to keep it where it would be safe and she wouldn’t have to worry about it.”
I swear, this stupid bitch actually looks proud of herself. She may think that she just helped Elle out, but she actually threw me a bone.
“That’s sweet of you. I won’t bother you any longer, but I can’t wait to hear how she does tonight! She’s an amazing person.” The lies drip from my mouth easily, but this teacher is eating them up.
“She is.” The woman nods while she talks. “She really is. I’m so glad to see that the other students are recognizing that. It can be really hard to make new friends when you move, and I know that she was struggling. When I heard her playing this morning, and she was crying…well, I knew that she has the music in her, you know?”
Nope. I have no idea what the fuck she’s talking about, but I do know that she just gave me some more info. Elle was crying? While playing violin? She’s more of a pussy than I thought before and even less like Tiffany.
She shouldn’t be here. Tiffany should be here. Elle’s just an imposter wearing her face and taking up space that someone else should have.
I have to force myself to smile at the teacher before turning and walking to class.
But I have an idea. Little kitten loves her violin so much, I wonder what she would do if something were to happen to it. It would really be a shame, especially for someone who cries when playing their fucking instrument.
What a little kitten bitch.
***
As much as I hate her, Elle looked good at practice today. I swear, she kept looking at me while she was jumping and running around, and she made it fucking hard to concentrate.
When it was over, I ran to catch up with her, easily stopping her before she was halfway to the locker room.
“Clay.” She says my name like she’s spitting in the dirt and I feel my temper flare. We’re out here by ourselves, and this is how she wants to talk to me? Like she’s better than me?
Right now she’s not better or worse than I am. She may think that just because she lives in a shit house, she has something to prove, but I’m over that little act of hers. I don’t know why she’s such a pain in the ass all the time, but it’s time for it to end.
The air is cooling down and she has a few beads of sweat by her hair. She shivers under my gaze and self-consciously wipes her face.
“So, you’re playing tonight at the football dinner.” It’s a statement, not a question, and I want to see how she’ll respond. I already know that she’ll be there, but I need to know if she’s going to admit it willingly to me.
Her face pales, making her freckles stand out even more. This is just another way that she and Bethany look so much alike. They both have the most incredible smattering of freckles. Without thinking, I reach out and lightly run my fingertips across her cheek.
Elle’s response is immediate. She jerks back, almost falling over in her effort to get away from me. God, I hate her.
I can’t even touch her without her acting like I’m hurting her.
“It’s a football dinner?” She swallows hard and I can tell that she’s thinking about running. Just the thought of chasing her down and tackling her to the ground makes me hard. I may not get to tackle a lot during practice or ever during games, but I know that I could take her down.
I’d love to feel her little body struggling under mine while I pinned her to the ground.
“Hell yeah, it’s a football dinner. And I heard from the strings teacher that my favorite little slutty kitten will be playing. You gonna cry tonight, too?” I grin at her, unable to help the barbs that I’m throwing in her direction. I can’t always put my hands on her to control her, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t hurt her in other ways.
Elle has to know that I’m the one in control. Always.
She blinks at me, trying to understand what I’m saying. “What did she tell you?”
I have to give her this – she’s trying to hold it together. She just can’t. This is my game, my world, and she’s just dropped into it. She doesn’t know how to handle herself.
“Just that you are the new first chair violin. And that you play with so much emotion that you sometimes cry. What do you think about when you cry, Elle? Are you thinking about our time together in the locker room?”
She tries to walk past me, but I step to the side and block her, reaching out to run my fingers up her arm. “What in the world could make perfect little Elle cry?” I’m towering over her and she has to look up at me.
Her chin trembles as she stares up into my eyes. This is how I like her, like she’s on her knees.
Like she has to do exactly what I tell her to do.
“Nothing, you asshole. Move.” Again, she tries to step past me, but this time I grab her by her shoulders, digging my thumbs into her skin. She gasps but doesn’t cry out.
“Listen, Elle, I think you’re going to need a ride tonight, am I right? I’ll be thrilled to come and pick you up and bring you home. That way you and I can get some proper alone time. What do you say?”
She shakes her head, her ponytail smacking the sides of her face. “Not a chance, Clay.”
I lean forward. “I’m going to pick you up, kitten. I know where you live and I’ll be there for you. Make sure that you wear something that gives me easily access, okay? I don’t go around taking stupid bitches places without a little something in return.”
“You don’t know where I live.” She yanks back from me and slips from my grasp. “That’s a lie.”
“Not a lie, kitten. After Bethany came to visit you that one day, she told me where you live, so I like to swing by sometimes and see if you’re around. Even when the rest of the house is dark you like to keep your light on, don’t you, Elle? Got any monsters chasing you in the dark?”
“Leave me alone.” She tries to sound brave, but I can see her face slipping. My poor little kitten. I think that maybe I finally found a way to get her to crack.
“You do have monsters. What chases you when you sleep, Elle? What are you so afraid of that you have to leave a light on upstairs like a baby?” I reach for her wrist but she yanks it back and out of the way.
“Fuck off.”
“Big words from a little kitten. Why don’t you run on home, Elle, and I’ll see you later? Maybe then you can tell me all about the monsters you’re afraid of.” Leaning forward so that I can whisper, I swear, I can smell her fear. She’s dripping sweat and breathing hard. “Remember though, Elle, there are worse monsters than the ones that you think are coming for you in the night. Did you know that?”
I never expected her to respond. At the most, I thought that she’d run for the locker room. Instead, though, she slaps me.
My cheek stings and she drops her hand to her side, her mouth falling open. She’s fucked up, and she knows it.
“That’s it, you fucking slut.” I lunge for her, but she takes off, trying to make it to the building before I can catch her.
We’re the only ones out here. I just have to get my hands on her before she can get inside and she’s mine. I was going to let her go until later, but she fucking slapped me.
Nobody slaps me.
She’s just a few feet ahead of me, her arms pumping as she runs, but she hasn’t had the conditioning that I have. She has no idea how fast I can be.
We’re tearing up the grass between the football field and the building. Even though she’s running as fast as she can, I’m quickly closing the gap between the two of us. She may have thought that she could get away with that shit, but that’s just not going to happen.
About 100 yards from the school and Elle’s finally within reach. I lower my shoulder and push off from the ground, my feet both leaving it at the same time as I reach for her.
It’s no different than a tackle on the field, except this time, I’m not playing to win a game. The stakes are much, much higher than that.
Chapter 10
Elle
“No!” I scream as I feel Clay’s body slam into me from behind. He tackles me to the ground, crushing me with his weight, but sits up enough to flip me over. There are rocks and small sticks pressing into my back and he’s knocked the breath out of me. When I try to suck in a breath, all I get is his scent in my nose, and it makes me cough.
Kicking my legs, I try to buck him off of me, but he just leans down and grins in my face. It’s almost impossible for me to catch my breath and I feel like I’m swimming under water as I suck in air.
I struggle to breathe, but he doesn’t move from his position on my hips. He’s got me completely pinned down, my wrists locked in his hands and held above my head. Even as I try to squirm, I know that I’m not going to be able to get out. He’s grinning and barely panting, and I still can’t fucking breathe.
I am so screwed.
Before I can scream, he leans down, his face close to mine. “You can scream and yell all you want, little kitten, but we’re the only ones here. Everyone else is gone. So, scream like a little bitch. I think I’d like it more.”
He grinds his hips into me and I feel it. His cock. Fuck, he’s hard and he’s huge and I’m afr
aid. What is he going to do to me?
“Are you going to rape me?” I immediately hate myself for asking him this question and for the way that his eyes rake slowly down my body. My cheer top has pulled up and my stomach is exposed. He licks his lips as he looks at me before glancing back up at my face.
“No, Elle. I’m not going to rape you. But you’re going to wish that I had. Eventually I’m going to have you begging to suck my cock. You don’t have to like me, Elle, and I sure as fuck don’t like you, but I’m going to have you wanting me.” Clay grabs both of my wrists in one hand, keeping them pinned to the ground in the dirt, and then shifts his position so that he can reach my skirt.
“Never. Fuck you, Clay.” I want to spit into his face, but my mouth is dry.
And it’s a lie. I do want him. I want Clay Bryson, and if that is what sends me to hell, then so be it. I’m not sure that I can change the fact that he’s made my body turn against itself. He makes me think things that I know I shouldn’t, and I don’t feel like I have any control over myself.
Instead of answering or getting offended, he just laughs and slowly runs his hand up my leg, sliding it around to my inner thigh, squeezing my muscle. His eyes are locked on me but I can see that he’s starting to breathe heavier.
“Please.” It’s almost a whisper, but I know that he hears me. He raises an eyebrow, but his hand doesn’t stop moving. He’s sliding it farther up my thigh. I feel his fingers inching along, eating up every part of me, getting closer to…me.
And I can’t do a damn thing to stop him.
If he keeps moving his hand, he’ll know something that I don’t want him to. He’ll know that I’m getting wet. Again.
Goddammit, this should not be happening. I should not be responding to him like that.
But it’s like my body and my brain have completely disconnected. I can’t control what my body wants.
And right now…it wants Clay.
It’s like he can read my mind. As I’m thinking about whether or not I was asking him to stop or continue, he speaks up, breaking the silence between us.
