“Fine, I won’t ask any more questions pertaining to that,” I retort.
“I’d be best if you didn’t.”
Checking the time, I inwardly wince when I see that time is dwindling right in front of me. I can’t afford to stay here, hashing out things with my father. No matter how bad I want to, it’s just not logical. Asher is depending on me, and I need to get my shit together and go get him. Even if I don’t walk out of it alive, at least I have a small hope he will.
Sighing, I push away from the counter. Better to act bored with the situation, so I can get out of here. Giving my father a small smile, I ask the same question I asked Davis earlier. “Dad, did Mr. T get released?”
His eyes harden. I can see him mentally check out right before my eyes. He shoves away from the island with a growl. “Yes. They couldn’t detain him because the recordings weren’t enough proof. They released him on bail earlier this morning.”
My heart sinks. Shit.
He walks toward the fridge and grabs a bottle of water. Uncapping it, he takes a drink, then states, “You should have told me what was going on, baby girl. I know things have been rough, but you didn’t need to debase yourself like that to talk to someone.”
That’s not all that motherfucker did to me, but I’m not going to tell him that. I know my father. If he found out that Mr. T is the one that raped me—plus is the person stalking me—there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to end him. And I’m not talking about Mafia shit or anything like that. It would be a father fighting to protect his daughter.
I also caught that tinge of disappointment residing within his words. Disappointing my father isn’t something I’m used to, but it’s clear as the nose on my face, that he is disappointed in me. I could have chosen a different outlet for my feelings, but at the time, I didn’t care. It wasn’t until it was too late, I realized I’d backed myself into a corner. I allowed all their taunts and ridicule to get to me, transforming me into a whore of their making.
Now that I know better, I won’t make the same mistake twice. A traumatizing experience doesn’t involve more trauma to overcome. It requires strength, conviction, and a support system I didn’t know I could have until the guys showed up.
And now, one of them is in danger because of me.
It may mean my death, but I’ll do anything to save him. Out of all the guys, he and Ellis have been the two that’s been there. They didn’t bully me as much as Quinn and Callum. Instead, they allowed my actions to dictate their reaction.
“I’m sorry,” I retort, a blush rising to my cheeks. “Next time I will.”
“There won’t be a next time,” my father seethes. “You have Davis now. He will protect you with his life. Isn’t that right?” He cranes his head to peer over the counter toward Davis who nods in agreement.
Clearing my throat, I shove my phone into my pocket and walk away. “I guess that’s that, then.”
I’m still not happy with the fact my father put Coach Rice on my case, but it’s nothing I can help now. I don’t even have time to delve through it and figure things out, even if I wanted to. It’s time to see if I can formulate a plan to save Asher, which also means getting the hell out of Davis’ sight.
Mr. T is smart, and now extremely pissed, because of my actions in his office. I played a game of Russian Roulette with him, and I lost. He’ll do anything to get back at me. That’s how all predators get the victim. They play psychological games with their prey, pushing and prodding until they’re at the end of their rope.
He’s the perfect trifecta of crazy—calculated, bloodthirsty, and filled to the brim with revenge.
Except, he didn’t bank on someone like me.
You can only threaten someone so many times before they come out swinging. And this time, more so than the others, he’s crossed a line.
He’s taken something of mine, and I will make sure it’s the last thing he takes. Period.
CHAPTER 27
Gathering my keys, I slip out of the side door that leads to the garage. It took my almost an hour to time it perfectly, to keep from Davis or anyone else in the house from seeing me leave. Ever since the day they arrested Callum, my father has kept a close, watchful eye on me. So, I know if I want this to work, I need to make it quick. He’ll come looking for me, eventually.
My feet lightly tap against the marble tiling, matching the pace of my heart as I hurry across the foyer and grab at the door. Slipping through, I make my way over to the tool chests, searching for a weapon. It may not be much, but it will give me a better chance than if I show up empty-handed.
Finding a crowbar, I test its weight in my hands. My fingers clench and unclench around the hard, unforgiving metal, a small smile tilting one corner of my lips. It’s a bit on the heavy side, but will no doubt pack a punch if used correctly.
Dashing toward my car, I hop in and leave before anyone can rush out and stop me. Thankfully, my father left the garage door open from when he and Coach Rice came home. So, it was easy enough to slip out without too much detection.
I peer in my rearview mirror every so often, looking for any tails. I wouldn’t put it past them to allow me to leave, then come up on my tail end when I least expect it. They’re all a bunch of overprotective bears when it comes to where I go and what I do. And this time, I’m actually sympathetic to their plight on keeping me safe.
All too soon, I come to the outskirts of town. It’s hard to see as I peer through the darkness. The only lighting this far out of town is the infamous Gentlemen’s club as it booms with life. Bodies practically pour through the doors, bumping and grinding against each other. Some half undressed; some dressed to the nines. They don’t have a care in the world as they sensually ready themselves for a night of fun.
Tearing my gaze away, I narrow my eyes. Where is it? Come on. I silently curse under my breath as my eyes trail all over both sides of the road. It’s been years since I’ve been to the warehouse out here, and if someone doesn’t pay enough attention, they’ll miss the turn off completely.
When I’m about to give up, my heart skips a beat when I spy an unmarked dirt road as it pops into the beam of my headlights. It’s masked with underbrush and fallen trees from some tumultuous storms we have that blaze through during spring. Their ravenous appetites make things almost unbearable when trying to find things in its aftermath.
Turning in, I drive along the dirt road until it comes to a stop under a hedge of trees. Shuffling in my seat, I take a few moments to peer around at the open space in front of me. Weeds as tall as my hips swish and sway in the chapping wind. It gives it an ominous appearance, as the streams of light from the moon cascade down from above. There’s nothing for miles past the warehouse, only a few scattering of trees that give a little ambience.
I take a deep breath and grab the crowbar. Climbing out of the car, my eyes rake over the building in front of me. Vines crisscross over each other in their quest on dominating the structure. Taking my lip between my teeth, I hesitantly step forward. My heart nearly lurches out of my chest when the sound of a twig snapping comes from behind me. Twisting around, the breath explodes from my chest in relief when I see it’s a stray cat, lurking its way across the road.
“If he wanted you dead, you’d be dead,” I try to reassure myself, even though all it does is cause a sense of foreboding to cling to me like mosquitos in stagnant water.
Forcing my body forward, I make my way toward the building. I take slow and measured steps, fighting to keep the rampant beat of my heart under control. But it’s hard. Especially with this sense of impending doom weighing heavily on my shoulders.
Sweat coats the back of my neck, making my shirt cling to my body like a second skin. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, burning me up, even as the arctic air swirls around me. The sound of crows squawking from above set me even more on edge. My panic continues to rise as I stare into the inky blackness, wondering what is waiting for me in its murky depths. I twist and turn, peering up all around, seeing them sit
ting on the branches in the tree. They’re watching me with their beady eyes and sharp beaks, as if they’re waiting on their dinner to fall into their trap.
Swallowing hard, I tear my gaze away. I need to keep in mind that Asher is waiting for me in there. He’s waiting for me and I can’t let him down. I can’t allow panic and fear to rule me.
It’s me he wants, and I need to remember that. He has no use for any of my guys, unless he was looking for a bit of payback. But, since I don’t know what he wants, it would do me no good to guess what his intentions are.
I just need to remember this is all a game to him, and this warehouse is the end of the road.
I spin around, looking all around me. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I let loose a huff of relief when I see I have one bar of service and I’m still within range on my time limit. If I was smarter, I would call them right now. I’d let them know where we’re at, so they can come help me save Asher.
All it would take is one call. One moment of fragility and we could be safe.
As soon as I gather the courage to do it—to go against what Mr. T said—my entire body freezes, like a deer caught in the headlights. A foreboding presence behind me has fear cascading down my back in waves. Pure, unadulterated hatred seeps from the sources and into every fissure of my skin.
“You came alone.” I shiver in revulsion, snapping straight when warmth coats my back.
I startle when I feel fingers skate up my side. It’s disgusting, but I can actually feel his need for me rolling off him in waves. My mouth falls open, preparing to tell him to stop, then snaps shut when a large, rough hand closes over my clothed breast.
Tears dance in the corner of my eyes as he continues to knead my chest, as if he has all the right in the world to touch me like this. Then his hand slips higher, fingers wrapping lightly around the column of my neck before it comes to rest over my mouth.
“Why are you doing this?“ I whisper, cursing as tears fill my eyes.
Flashbacks of that night are pounding against the inside of my skull, begging to be set free. They’re clawing, jerking, twisting, and yanking against the vise-like grip I have on them. Hot mist forms against the side of my face when he pulls me further into him, a soft groan of pleasure rattling inside his chest.
Utter disgust wars with my survival instinct as I feel a hardness press against the curve of my spine. “Please, don’t.”
Tears brim my eyes when I feel his tongue dart out, trailing over my pulse point. I lean my head away from him, but instead of it accomplishing what I want it to—to get me away from his mouth and disgusting caresses—he must see it as an opening. His tongue trails over the salty skin of my throat, then his teeth nip at my skin, causing a sharp cry to break free from my throat.
With more courage than I have, I whisper, “I’m here. Let him go.”
He chuckles menacingly. “Mmm, I knew there was more to you than a tight pussy, but you don’t call the shots here, little girl.”
Just as quickly as he engulfed me, he’s gone. In its place, a sharp, icy prick stings against the side of my neck. I cry out in surprise and push myself away from him. I fight for balance but end up falling to the ground when my feet get tangled up.
My head swims like water slowly swaying back and forth. Lethargy oozes through my blood like poison. I use what little energy I have left to twist over onto my back, but all too soon, my arms give out under the strain. My vision crawls in front of me, and I try to blink away the blurriness, but to no avail, it’s getting worse.
Swaying, I fall the rest of the way to my back, gasping for air, just as he comes to stand directly above me. A sickening smile twists his features as he gazes down at me. His face is the stuff of nightmares, with only his eyes and leering grin visible under the black ski mask.
But then, he does something I never expected. He grabs the mask underneath his chin, dragging it up and off his head. A familiar strong jawline is the first to meet my slowly fading vision, then a strong, sculpted nose, high arched cheekbones, and lastly, a face that should not be connected to a disturbing person like him.
It’s not the person I thought it was. Not even close.
This devil is so much worse.
CHAPTER 28
Pain is the first thing I register as I drift back into awareness. It feels like I’m sludging through dense, tar-like liquid, fighting to clamor my way to the surface for fresh air.
Next thing I note is the whirling sound of an overhead fan, my air waving as each burst of air blows down on me. Prying open my eyes, everything around me is under a sheen of glaze. My weary head lazily falls to the side, not having the strength in my neck to hold it up.
With each blink, sandpaper feels as if it’s grating against the surface of my eyes. It hurts. Damn, my body aches.
“Oh, good,” I hear from behind me. “My little girl is awake.”
“M—” I slur, coming out from under whatever drug he pumped into my system. “Bexley, what are you doing?”
I didn’t think this would be the way I’d die, but I can’t blame anyone but myself. My fear for Asher drove me here, and I don’t regret that for even a moment. His safety is my only concern.
For years, I’ve been living a life a day at a time. The only thing I had to worry about was myself. Yes, I was a victim of a heinous crime, but that didn’t mean I had to act like one. Without my knowledge, I became a statistic. I allowed my fear, hatred, and anger to guide me. Now, I’m stuck in this barren warehouse, staring into the eyes of one of the guys I love, knowing that soon either one or both of us will die.
You know, I was wrong before; about those hot-shot producers creating a false sense of love. I lied to myself over and over until I believed that true love didn’t exist. But now, I know I was wrong. Because the man sitting in front of me, barely breathing and covered in dried blood—is a piece of the center in my universe.
With all my heart. It beats, breaks, and mends for him and my guys. And the asshole tormenting me is trying to take it all away.
Anger simmers in my belly as I fight. I’m tied to a rusted down chair, my legs open and inviting his wrath. No matter how many times I scream and thrash—he won’t let me go. This man—this monster—thinks of me as his. He has since the day he stole my innocence, then promised he’d be back for more.
I thought it was Mr. T, because every-fucking-thing lined up in his favor. But it wasn’t. And now, I’m kicking myself in the ass for not looking at the surrounding people just a little closer.
“Why did you insist on angering me, little girl?” his rough voice caresses my skin like slithers of sharp ice, cutting and maiming.
I wish he’d look me in the eye while he finished the job he was hired for. Fucking pussy. That’s all he’s ever fucking been. A bully. A tormentor. Someone that gets off on the pain of others, while hiding behind a curtain for protection. Fucking psychopath.
“I never angered you,” I lowly murmur, shaking from the cool dampness saturating my skin. “I had no reason to, because you were nothing except a teacher to me.”
“You are everything to me!” he shouts. “How can you say I mean nothing to you?!”
His voice reverberates off the walls. I jump, releasing a terrified squeak from the abrupt noise.
“Because you are nothing” Movement from the corner of my eye has my heavy head falling in his direction. I cringe when I see his mask of fury, no longer hidden beneath the ski mask he liked to wear when taunting me. “Bexley, being everything to someone doesn’t comprise tearing them down. It isn’t bullying them, raping them, and pretending you hate them.”
“You know, I could have done it,” he says, a tight smile ghosting over his lips as he relives the memory. “I could have gotten my knife out and slit your throat that night.”
“Why didn’t you?”
His nostrils flare, eyes lighting with fire. This man is all over the place. One moment he seems tranquil, happy. The next, he’s ravenous with rage. There is no in between.
“No, you just raped me, then left me in my filth,” I say with disgust. “If someone loves you, they don’t take everything from you!”
I know my mouth is pushing it. That he will eventually crack and shatter, then I’ll be the one paying for it. But I can’t hold my tongue. I’m doomed anyway, so I won’t rest until what I have to say is out in the open.
He paces the floor in front of me, hands running through his hair. With fear clogging my throat, I watch him break, then reassemble himself, then split again right in front of me. He’s manic, anxious.
“You don’t understand, Jess. You’ll never understand.” He mumbles something under his breath, gritting his teeth until I’m sure they’re about to crack and break. “Thompson tried to send me off. Yeah. He tried to send me off, saying I was no good for Silver Creek. No good, no good, no good,” he ticks, slapping the side of his head. “I told him I needed to stay, for you. He’s the one that isn’t good, Jess! He fucked you. Right there in his office where anyone could walk in; like some common whore! Your mother let him, even when she was doing the same goddamn thing!”
“What we had is none of your business.”
He stalks toward me with venom seeping from his eyes. Grabbing a handful of hair, he wrenches my head back and gets in my face. “Everything concerning you is my goddamn business!” Then he forces his lips against mine in a rough, messy kiss. The taste of him makes me gag, which only incites his anger further.
“I’m just a job to you, Derek!” I cry out when his hand tightens in my hair. “You’ve treated me like shit since the first day I stepped into your classroom!”
He softens marginally. “Yeah, because I had to, baby. I didn’t want anyone knowing what we had between us. I couldn’t live without seeing you, watching you. I got as close to you as I could without being noticed. I’ve been waiting for six years, and I almost had you before those fuckers came and took you away!”
Love Me, Baby: A High School Bully Romance (Silver Creek High Book 3) Page 20
