I huff as my backpack slides off my shoulder, weighing heavily on my forearm as I struggle to get my books to fit neatly inside my locker. None of this even matters, I don’t know why I try so hard. It’s almost over. I’m almost out of this place. The thought of leaving Blackcrown behind is mostly bitter, but a little sweet too. I had far from a traditional upbringing. There was a lot of bad, but there was some fun, too. I learned how to hotwire a car and outrun the police at a really young age. It sounds gritty, undesirable. But it was fun. I had fun with Killian and Kai, and they relied on me for more than they would like to admit.
I’d seen Killian early this morning coming out of the gym, but he didn’t utter a word. I don’t know what I expected after the other night, other than the bruises and still being able to feel his hands and breath on me. Last night, when he dropped me off, he didn’t touch me. So I’m wondering if maybe one night of fucking was what he needed. Maybe he’ll leave me alone now, to finish out the year in ostracized peace. With a clear head, I know continuing to sleep with Killian is not a good idea. But I’m not sorry it happened. I don’t regret it, and I’m not mad at him for anything he did that night. He thinks he hurt me by taking what he wanted, but there’s nothing left to break when it comes to me. I’m already at rock bottom. He doesn’t realize he only succeeded in giving me another memory to cling to when I leave.
“Give me that.” I feel Killian’s breath on the shell of my ear before I hear him. Speak of the fucking devil. The minty scent of his body wash makes me feel alive and comforted when it shouldn’t do either of those things. My sole purpose in Killian’s life is to be his toy to play with when he wants and then destroy when he’s done with me. I’d thought we were at the destroy and toss part of the game, but I guess he wants to go another round.
I relax my arm, letting him slide off my backpack. I don’t want to cause a bigger scene than necessary in the bustling hallway. I can already feel the other students staring at us, probably trying to collect as much information as possible to spew into the Blackcrown gossip mills. His hand slides down my side in such a boyfriend-like maneuver. And that, that tiny caress, is what makes me snap. Rage rips through me. If he wants to ruin my reputation or humiliate me in real time in front of a bunch of students, I can handle it. But when he’s gentle, touching me in ways I crave, that fucking hurts.
I spin around, shoving him as hard as I can, but he’s like a big stupid, gorgeous brick wall that will never budge under my hands. “Look, whatever game you have planned today, I don’t have time for it. Just tell me the end goal, and let’s jump straight to that. Do you want to parade me through a crowded hall and tell everyone the local whore didn’t put up a fight when you fucked her? I’ll tell them I enjoyed it. I’ll tell them I liked it.” I poke him hard in the chest because I’m just so tired of the games on top of everything else. “You know why I’ll admit it? Because it’s true. And I’m not a liar.” I glare at him, taking a deep breath and trying to keep my hands from shaking in anger.
He backs me up against the lockers with a loud thud. Dropping my bag to the floor, he presses his palms flat against the cold metal on either side of my head. He dips his head, stealing my breath with just a searing look.
“We’re leaving,” he says gruffly. When I shake my head to protest, his hand grips my throat, but he’s not hurting me. I understand him in a way most people don’t. He’s letting me know he’s in control, and if I was smart, I’d just submit.
But I’m feeling like a real dumb bitch today.
“I have two more classes and I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” I try to keep my tone hard, but when a dimple appears on his cheek, I realize that he only finds my anger and frustration amusing.
“I don’t give a fuck what you want to do.” He laughs in my face before pulling away, picking my bag up in one hand and wrapping the other around my hip.
I shuffle, trying to keep up with his long strides and avoid the eyes of our classmates. I must block out the cacophony of whispers and unabashed stares because before I know it, we’re standing at Killian’s fire engine red Lamborghini.
With a click of a button, the doors raise and he pushes me to sit in the passenger seat. Without a word, he reaches across me to buckle my seatbelt but I slap his hand hard. “You can stick your dick wherever you want, Killian. I let you have that control because that’s what I like.” It was true. While I could hold my own with the Pierce brothers when we were younger, even the first time Killian and I had sex, it was evident that he was dominant and I was submissive. We fed off of each other like two people who had been making love their entire lives.
