“The same affliction that did a number on our fearless leader,” Galen drawls, entering the kitchen with Saint in tow.
Caz inspects Saint’s injuries with his jaw trailing the ground. Saint has hickeys all over his neck too and obvious scratches to his face that can’t be hidden.
Guess we gave one another a real workout last night.
Caz crosses his arm, narrowing his eyes at Saint, because it’s obvious as fuck what went down last night. “Is the rulebook thrown out, or are you making your own rules now?”
“You didn’t go unsatisfied from what I remember,” Saint coldly replies, brushing past me without acknowledgment and reaching for the coffeepot.
I’m already nursing my third cup of coffee, debating whether I should play hooky today. Yet hiding from the world feels like I’d be handing Saint a victory on a silver platter, and I’m in no mood to do that either.
“Still would’ve appreciated an invite to the party,” Caz grumbles, popping some bread in the toaster.
“And end up looking like Chris Brown and Rhianna after date night?” Galen says. “No thanks. You can keep that shit.”
I gasp. “Take that back! That was domestic abuse, and he was arrested for assaulting her. It’s not something you should joke about.”
“As opposed to you two angry fucking and slapping the shit out of one another?” Theo questions from his position by the doorway. He looks shocked and miserable, and he won’t meet my eyes.
“It was consensual,” Saint says. “And it’s nothing the fuck to do with any of you.”
“The hell it isn’t,” Caz shouts. “We’re not allowed to touch her! You went apeshit on my ass when you found us fucking in my room. Now, what, that’s suddenly okay?”
Saint pushes Caz out of his face. “Let me make it clear for you.” He grinds his teeth, and anger rolls off him in waves. “The princess is mine to do with as I please. If you ask nicely, I might let you fuck her on occasion.”
“Excuse me?” I bore a hole in the side of his skull. “I’ll fuck whomever I want whenever I want, and right now, you’re the last fucking cock I want to ride.”
He smirks. “Try telling that to someone who believes it.”
“This is fucking bullshit!” Galen roars, pushing his way in between them. “Can’t you see what she’s doing to us? She is going to rip us apart and then stand back and laugh.”
“You have a mighty high opinion of me all of a sudden,” I retort.
“I’m just calling it like I see it,” he says, shoving past all of us. “None of this shit is going to end well.”
_______________
“You and Saint are all anyone’s talking about today,” Sariah tells me at lunch. We’re at a table at the back of the library pretending to study while we eat. I couldn’t stomach the cafeteria today. Not because of the nosy looks—my fellow classmates can take their judgmental opinions and shove them up their ass—because I need distance from the Saints.
Things are becoming…intense.
In a way I can’t explain.
One part of me loves how much I feel like I belong with them.
Another part of me hates how it feels like I’m losing my identity. Because I’m struggling to process my feelings when it comes to those guys, especially Saint.
“Hey, baby.” Sean circles his arms around Sariah from behind as Emmett drops into a seat beside me.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Emmett’s eyes pop wide as he scans my marked jawline and neck. His fists clench into balls as he jumps back up. “I don’t give a shit who that bastard is, he’s going down for this.”
I tug on his arm, glaring at the few heads that lift and stare in our direction. “Sit back down.” When he doesn’t move, I peer up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, Emmett.” He reclaims his seat, and I thread my fingers through his. “Saint didn’t hurt me. It was consensual rough sex. Okay?”
He stares at me like I’m a stranger. “You get off on that shit?”
I sigh, rubbing a tense spot between my brows. “Things are complicated between us.”
“I’ll say,” Sean supplies, slinging his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders. “And the step-sibling thing seems like the least of it.”
“I should’ve just stayed in bed,” I deadpan, biting into an apple. “Because this day honestly couldn’t get any worse.”
Famous last words.
I’m in world history class, at the end of the day, when the door bursts open and Emmett pops his head in. Ignoring the teach—because it’s Shaking Sheila, thus known for her habit of shaking like a leaf whenever anyone raises their voice to her—he motions me forward with his fingers. “You need to come with me. Right now.”
I don’t need to be told twice, shoving my books in my backpack and striding through the door, out into the empty hallway, conscious of footsteps following me.
“Get lost!” Emmett snarls over my shoulder. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“Lose the attitude, or I’ll gut you and spread your insides over the school walls,” Galen threatens, pulling a knife on my friend.
I glare at Galen for a few beats until he relents, putting the knife away. I tug on Emmett’s arm. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Sariah,” he says, striking fear into my heart.
“What happened?”
He takes my hand, pulling me along the hallway, and the tormented, troubled look on his face elevates my heart rate to coronary-inducing level. “She was found in the girls’ bathroom over by the science lab, lying on the floor, unconscious, and beaten to a pulp.”
CHAPTER 27
I WRESTLE MY hand from Emmett’s and take off running in the direction of the bathroom. Two pairs of footsteps run after me. Blood thrums in my ears and pounds in my skull as potent fear whizzes through my veins. Rounding the corner, I slam to a halt at the scene that awaits me.
Sariah is being carried out of the bathroom on a stretcher, surrounded by EMTs.
Sean’s pale face is testament to his concern for his girlfriend.
Vice Principal Pierson has her arms locked around her body, and she’s shaking her head in disbelief, her lips pinched tight, her expression a mix of sorrow and fear.
“Sean!” I jog to his side. “Is Sariah okay?”
He gulps, and his voice sounds scraped raw as he speaks. “I don’t know, Lo. Nobody knows exactly how long she’s been in there. Someone wedged a chair underneath the door before climbing out the window, so no one’s been in there for hours. Cleaning staff was concerned when they couldn’t get in, and they called Mrs. Pierson. Then, she came to get me, and Emmett came with.” He massages his temples. “I was sitting in fucking class while my girlfriend was bleeding out on the floor.”
“You didn’t know, dude.” Emmett attempts to reassure him.
“Step aside, please,” Mrs. Pierson says, gesturing us to one side. “We need to let the medical personnel do their jobs.”
I clutch Emmett’s arm as the EMTs carry an unconscious Sariah away. She’s covered in blood, and there are bruises already appearing on her arms and her face. Her top is torn, and I glimpse more bruises on her torso.