Betrayed by Blood (Betrayed #1)

by Victoria Renteria

  Cringing, my mouth goes dry just thinking about her suggestion. In no way have I any desire to be a third wheel to whatever it is she’s got with Mr. Sexy Pants Accent. Why should I torture myself when I know it’s not something I’ll ever have? Giving my head a quick shake, I reply, “No thanks, Em. You two go ahead. I’d just be a third wheel.”

  She sighs, grabbing my attention, but it’s Brighton that remains my center of focus. He moves to sit between us, his gaze completely locked on to me. Clasping one of my hands with his own, he smiles softly as he says, “Kai, you won’t be a third, fourth, or even a fifth wheel. It would be an honor to share a dance with two beautiful women.”

  My brow creases at his comment. He reminds me of a protective older brother. The kind that would walk through hell and high water just to make sure you’re safe. With my mental fog slowly dissipating, my eyes take in their smiling faces. Emma, taking this as a sign, latches onto my wrist then pulls me from the couch.

  “Come on, Kai, it will be fun.”

  Groaning inwardly, I know there’s no way out and resign myself, following them to the stairs. My mind instantly drifts back to the feeling of being watched earlier. Reeling with the possibility of the shadow man still lurking around the corner, my eyes dart around the room. Seeing nothing, my gaze wanders back to my friend being led onto the dance floor. Grasping Emma’s hand, Brighton steers her through the sea of people grinding to the pulsating beat. My eyes widen as he grasps her by the waist, pulling her into his chest.

  The two glide and move as if their bodies were poured from the same mold. Each movement exudes sensuality as they grind against one another, making me feel as if I’m intruding on a private moment. Blowing out a breath, I turn, leaving the dance floor, and heading for the bar. Spying an opening, I sidle up to the empty space and make eye contact with the bartender.

  “What can I get for ya, hun?” the bartender yells over the thump of the base.

  “Aberfeldy neat. Make it a double, please.”

  Nodding, she scurries away to pour my drink. Music drifts over me, the pulsating rhythm of the base thudding directly behind my eyes. Allowing my lids to drift shut, my hands rub my throbbing temples, willing away the pressure.

  Sighing, my hands fall back to the bar. My eyes pop open to find the bartender smiling sympathetically.

  “How much do I owe you?” I ask, reaching for my wallet.

  “Nothing. You’re all set, hun. There was a gentleman at the end of the bar that took care of it for you.”

  For a brief moment time stands still. I’m frozen in place, my gut churning, afraid to ask who it is. Swallowing loudly, I force myself to respond, asking, “Who?” Pointing to the other end of the bar, she frowns.

  “Sorry, hun. Looks like he left.” With a shrug of her shoulders, she picks up a bar towel then walks away.

  With trembling hands, I grasp my scotch and bring it to my lips. The hair on the nape of my neck stands on end as my fight or flight instincts kick in. Wincing, I glance around the bar, looking for the cause of my unease. With nothing standing out, I shift my gaze to the dance floor. No matter where I turn, I can’t locate the source.

  Coldness spreads through my veins, making me shiver. Gulping down the last of my scotch, I’m determined to find Emma and tell her I’m leaving. Unable to stand the panic any longer, I begin frantically searching for her through the mass of people. Not seeing her anywhere, my direction turns to that of the bathrooms, hoping she might be there. Making my way down the hall, the line for the bathroom is around the corner. As fate would have it, luck is not on my side because Emma is nowhere in sight. Passing the long line, I decide to keep walking down the hallway to the back stairs.

  Rounding the corner, I flinch at the sound of footsteps behind me. Spinning around to find the origin of the sound, I’m met with complete darkness. A foreboding sense of dread washes over me as my eyes scan the darkened hallway. Lights begin to flicker in the distance, adding to my anxiety. “It’s just a hallway, Kylee. One foot in front of the other. Emma’s probably making out in one of the corners.” Grumbling under my breath, I slowly inch my way forward.

  A shadow flickers on the wall next to me. Squealing, my body swivels around as if struck by lightning. Once again, I’m faced with complete darkness.

  “This is absurd. Now you’re just freaking yourself out,” I mumble.

  Smoothing down my dress, my slow trek forward begins once more. My confidence grows when my eyes land on the VIP Lounge. Lengthening my stride, my determination to reach the lounge as swiftly as possible solidifies. In the back of my mind, a nagging feeling starts to present itself. Something feels off, something I can’t seem to put my finger on.

  Pausing for a moment, I take in my surroundings. There’s no one here. The entire hallway is deserted. A terrified giggle escapes my lips. “Kylee, you’re being ridiculous again.” The words have barely left me when a pair of hands reach out from the shadows, pulling me into a rock solid chest.

  My body twists and turns in every direction, fighting to break the iron-clad grip holding me captive. Piercing screams echo throughout the hall, stopping me in my tracks. My mental fog clears as I realize the screams came from me. Renewing my efforts to break the man’s grip, I increase my struggle. Kicking out with my legs, I strike gold when the back of my heel lands directly on his shin, causing him to wince in pain.

  “Be still!” he hisses into my ear.

  The rough timber of his voice sounds vaguely familiar. He grips me tighter as I scream, “No, let me go!” Using as much force as possible, I toss my head back, praying to make a connection and break his hold. If he loosens his grip enough, I can slip out and run in the opposite direction. The direct hit causes him to stumble back, and he loosens his grip enough for me to move.

  With a swift kick, the heel of my stiletto stabs his thigh, causing him to scream out in pain. “You bitch!” Releasing his hold on me to grab his bleeding leg, I fall to the floor with a thud. Scrambling, I pick myself up and run in the opposite direction of the VIP Lounge. Heavy footsteps echo behind me. Pushing myself faster, my muscles burn from exertion. His voice calls out as he closes the distance between us.

  “It’s no use. You can’t outrun me.” The conviction in his voice causes the hair on my arms to rise and my determination to get away increases. With my heart pounding like a jackhammer, I dig deep, pushing through the burn. Three steps. Three steps is all it took before the heavy blow is felt in the center of my back, knocking me forward. At the last moment, I fling my arms out in front of me to try to break my fall, but it’s too late.

  My body hits the concrete with an audible thud. The heavy weight settling on my back is like a ton of bricks, making it difficult to catch my breath. With my remaining strength, I shove off the floor, bucking like a wild animal, trying to rid the weight from my body, but he doesn’t budge the slightest inch. My struggle only seems to excite him more, causing him to grind his erection firmly into the crevice of my ass.

  Growling into my ear, he snarls, “I told you it was no use. You can’t outrun me. You’ve been nothing but a stupid fucking tease for way too long.”

  Flinching, my body shies away from him. What does he mean a tease for way too long? His excitement overtakes him as he begins to grind himself into me harder, crushing my pelvis into the floor. A cry leaves my lips as pain radiates down my legs.

  “Get off me!” My voice belies a level of calm I don’t feel.

  A dark chuckle emanates from within his chest, causing his erection to jerk against my backside. Adjusting slightly, he affords me the opportunity I need to escape. Using my right elbow, I force all of the energy I can muster, thrusting it as hard as I can into his abdomen.

  Grunting, he removes his grip, allowing me to wiggle free enough to slide out. Latching onto my ankles, he slowly drags me back. My fingers claw at the tile, trying to get a grip on anything to get away from him. Finally catching my breath, I release a scream so loud my ears instantly begin to ring.
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  “Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he growls. Grasping my hair, he bangs my head against the floor. Pain instantly explodes along the right side of my face. Blood fills my mouth, coating my tongue.

  As I open my mouth to ask him what he wants, he begins to slide his hand underneath my dress. “No. No. Please. Don’t!” Whimpering, my struggle is renewed once again. Black spots dance around the edges of my vision yet I hold on in fear of what might happen if I pass out.

  Leaning in close, he grits out, “It’s time you stop pretending you don’t want it and give me what we both know I deserve.” I suck in a sharp, pained breath. The dim light illuminates just enough of his face and my eyes grow wide as his face comes into focus.

  “Jeremy, what are you doing? Please let me go.” Pleading, I try to reason with him. His eyes meet mine with hunger, his hold tightening around my breast. “Please, Jeremy, you don’t want to do this. We can talk or something.” My voice wavers with unshed tears.

  Snorting, he squeezes my breast harder, producing a deafening cry from my lips. Clamping a hand over my mouth, he spits out by my ear, “You will remain quiet while I touch you.” My ears pick up the sound of his zipper being drawn down, increasing my efforts to struggle once more. A hard smack lands across my cheek, immediately followed by a burning sensation. Tears begin streaming down my cheeks full force as I struggle to breathe. “I’m going to fuck you every which way from Sunday, Kylee, and you’re going to take it.” The stench of his breath has me choking back the acid rising in my throat. Resigning myself to my fate, I stop struggling and just lie still, praying for it to be over swiftly.

  As if by some miracle, my prayers are answered and the weight is removed from me all at once. Fighting through the pain, I’m able to glance over and see Brighton hovering over Jeremy in the corner, giving him a taste of his own medicine. As I watch, Brighton continues to deliver strategic blows as my vision begins to fade. Emma rushes over, dropping next to me on the floor. Crushing me in a fierce hug, a pained cry escapes my lips.

  “Oh God, Kai,” she cries.

  Covering her mouth with one hand, she runs the other up and down my spine in a soothing manner.

  “Are you all right? How bad are you hurt? Oh God. Where’s my phone? I need to call an ambulance.”

  Cupping her cheek and looking into her face, I say, “No ambulance, I’m fine. I just want to go home.”

  A spark of anger kindles in the depths of Emma’s eyes as she stares at me. “He needs to pay. You need to call the police and file a report.”

  Emma’s right but at the moment, the only thing I want is to go home. “Em, please, I just want to go home,” I whisper. Her expression turns sympathetic as she rubs my back.

  “Okay, let’s get you home. Do you think you can stand?”

  Giving her a nod, I slowly lift myself off the floor. Standing on shaky legs, I watch as Emma tries to inconspicuously scan my body for any visible signs of injury. “Em, I’m okay,” I say, meeting her eyes. She gives me a worried look as she grasps my hand.

  Gripping her hand, I take a step forward and my knees buckle. Before my exhaustion riddled body has the chance to hit the floor, strong, muscular arms wrap around me, sweeping me up into their embrace. Drawing in a sharp breath, I turn to see Brighton’s worried expression.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asks.

  “I’m okay. I just want to go home.” My body relaxes in his arms.

  “Well, let’s get you home then, lovey.”

  “What happened to Jeremy?”

  Frowning, he grumbles, “It’s been handled.” Confusion takes over as my brain tries to process his words.

  “Um, what do you mean it’s been handled?” I question.

  Peering down at me from beneath his long thick lashes, he studies my face a moment before giving me a wicked smile. “I’m pretty sure I sent him a message loud and clear. He won’t be bothering you anytime soon.” Shuddering, my mind drifts to what had almost occurred. Reading my shudder wrong, he pulls me in closer, sharing his warmth. A small pang of guilt hits as relief sweeps over me at his words. My brief respite is short-lived as the sinking feeling returns, igniting my fight or flight response once again.

  As I surrender to exhaustion, my mind keeps repeating an old phrase I’d heard as a child: “Something wicked this way comes.”

  MONDAY . . . THE UNIVERSAL DAY OF the week everyone seems to hate, myself included. After the events of the weekend, Monday came entirely too quick for my taste. Every muscle in my body screams with tension whenever I move. No matter how many times I soak in a hot bath, nothing relieves the aches and pains in my sore muscles. Walking into the classroom, I place my bag on the desk and take a seat in my chair just as the phone on my desk begins to ring.

  Glancing briefly at the calendar on my desk, my brow furrows. My next meeting is scheduled a week from now. With apprehension, I pick up the phone. “Hello, this is Ms. Parker,” I say with more confidence than I feel.

  “Hi, Kylee, it’s Shirlee. Principle Asher would like to see you in his office right away.”

  Sucking in a breath, I quickly reply, “Oh, um, sure thing. I’ll be right there. Thanks for letting me know, Shirlee.”

  “You’re welcome,” she replies before disconnecting the call.

  Placing the phone back on its base, I stand on shaky legs. “Well, let’s get this over with.” A million different scenarios run through my mind as I make my way toward his office. What could he possibly want to discuss? He had to have found out about the report I filed. I should have told him first. That is how it works.

  First I’m supposed to let him know then contact DCF. I did break protocol, so it’s my fault for not following proper procedure. Maybe he will overlook that minor detail. It should be minor in the grand scheme of things, right? My hands begin to shake as I make my way to the principal’s office. Maybe it’s not the report. It could be the new program I designed and proposed last week.

  Whether he brings up Gavin or not, it’s definitely something that we need to discuss, especially after my disastrous weekend. I take a calming breath to release some of my nervous energy before stepping inside. Plastering on a generic smile, I walk into the office as Shirlee looks up from her desk and smiles.

  “Hi, Kylee. He’s expecting you. Go right on in.”

  “Thank you, Shirlee.”

  My smile feels forced, although Shirlee doesn’t seem to notice. Lifting my hand, I knock a few times. His muffled reply comes immediately from the other side. “Enter.”

  Wiping my sweaty palms on my skirt, I take one final breath before opening the door. Looking up from his desk, Principal Asher gives me a polite smile.

  “You wanted to see me, Principal Asher?”

  Nodding, he motions for me to take a seat in the empty chair in front of his desk.

  “Yes, please have a seat, Ms. Parker.”

  Principal Asher looks at me before returning his attention to some papers on his desk. The room grows quiet before I finally speak. “Principal Asher, is everything all right?”

  Sighing, he leans back in his chair, peering at me over his glasses. Using a handkerchief on his desk, he wipes a bead of sweat off his brow before responding.

  “Kylee, you’ve worked for me for several years and you have been a fantastic teacher. Incredibly dedicated, hardworking, the parents and students love you. Heck, the staff loves you. No one has ever had a complaint. You honestly have the most immaculate record I have ever seen. You’re incredibly innovative and keep the students engaged. Quite frankly, you’re revolutionizing the way we are teaching the students. So when these complaints, which are quite serious, I might add, came across my desk, I had to do a double-take.”

  My head begins shaking from side to side in disbelief. Did he say complaints? As in more than one? About me? What happened? Who? What had I done? My heart beats fast and hard like a stallion out of control. Suddenly warm hands clasp the sides of my arms.

  “Kylee, are you all right?”
Principal Asher holds my gaze for a moment before releasing my arms.

  “Yes. I’m sorry, Principal Asher. I don’t understand what’s going on, sir.” My head comes to rest on my hand as my gaze lowers to the floor.

  “You know you don’t have to call me Principal Asher, right? You’ve known me since you were a little girl.” He chuckles. Sighing at the look on my face, he plunks into the chair next to me. “Look, Kylee, I’m not going to lie to you and pretend it’s not bad because it is.” Removing his glasses, he begins rubbing the bridge of his nose. The lump in my throat is so large now it’s practically impossible to breathe around. Swallowing roughly, I look up from the spot on the floor and see his sorrow-filled gaze.

  “You’re really not helping my level of anxiety here, you know that, right?” Nodding his head, he looks to me and sighs once again.

  “All right, here it goes. There have been two complaints brought against you. The first complaint is by a parent. The parent states you harassed his wife at her place of employment. He said that you scared the poor woman so much she hasn’t been able to return to work.” Pausing briefly, he brings the tip of his glasses to his mouth and chews on it. He takes me in, analyzing my every move. His continued scrutiny causes me to squirm in my chair.

  “What is it?” I breathe out, barely above a whisper. “In addition to the parents filing a complaint, another teacher has filed a grievance. He has . . . well . . . he said you sexually harassed him.”

  I gasp. There’s no way he just said what I think he did, did he? He couldn’t have . . . it’s not possible . . . is it? Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I whisper, “What did you say?”

  Speaking in a soothing voice, Principal Asher responds, “Kylee, you heard me correct the first time. Another teacher filed a complaint saying he was sexually harassed by you.”

  “No. That can’t be right. I’ve never done anything like that. I . . . I . . . don’t understand who would say such a thing. It’s just not true. I would never do anything like that,” I squeak out, still trying to wrap my head around what he just told me.