Marek’s harsh movements catch me off guard. There’s nothing gentle about him. Abrasive drives and quick thrusts take over my senses. The fabric of my dress rips and tears from the pressure against my back, beads and sequins falling to the ground like mirrors, shining the harsh truth at us. Wicked always wins, and Marek is as wicked as they come. He just hides it better than the others.
His grip tightens on my throat, and at first, I can’t deny the way it makes me feel. A mix of pleasure and pain, fear and lust, has my hand reaching up to grab the branch above me, suspending my body between us.
“You’re never going to break,” Marek whispers, tilting his head to the side and closing the space between our lips. “Are you?” His breath on my cheek is like a cool breeze on a summer day, subduing me.
I wrap my other hand around his wrist, squeezing his flesh and muscle as hard as I can, tightening his hold even harder around my throat.
“Weston girls don’t break, Marek.” My words are slow and strained through the hold on my neck. “But go ahead and keep trying.”
His lips crash against mine, owning my body and soul. Whatever these boys are doing, whatever fuels their hatred for me, I’m certain Marek’s is overrun by his attraction to me. Whether it’s physical, or runs deeper than that, I’m not sure. I’m certain of only one thing. Marek is hard, and my feelings for him are harder.
“You taste like sin and sunshine,” Marek whispers between our lips. His hand releases the tight hold on my throat. Red smeared over his skin frightens me. I brush my fingers over my neck and find blood.
Marek takes his time, slowly pumping in and out of me. Our time at the mountain house had had a certain kind of finality. I would have lived happily with the way we’d ended things, but right now, this moment, me scared and us alone in the woods, this seems more like us than anything I’ve ever known.
When he’s finished, he lowers my feet to the ground and kisses me one last time.
“Run, Palmer. Now. Don’t look back.”
******
I’m lost.
Everything around me seems familiar. Leaves and broken branches start to look like each other. My sense of direction is completely gone. I stop at a tree, resting my hand on the trunk to catch my breath. The wind whipping through the woods has me paranoid. A monster nips at my heels, so stopping isn’t the smartest thing to do. With a deep breath, I push on, hoping to find the edge of the woods.
Thirsty and scared aren’t good enough reasons to stop running, while the urge to give up, surrender to whoever is chasing me, almost breaks me. With nearly frostbitten feet, I push forward. Although, dying from the elements would be a far happier ending than whatever the boys have planned.
A cold brush of wind steals my breath. I stop again, almost positive I see light up ahead. Is this my freedom, or is my mind playing tricks on me? I stumble forward, giving my lungs a break until I finally reach the edge of the woods.
I check my surroundings and find the coast clear. I dance through the shadows, staying close to the darkness, hidden from those who are out to get me.
To say Marek confuses me would be an understatement. At first, I’d thought he was in the woods to erase me like a bad memory. But in the end, he’d seemed desperate for me to get away, giving me one last chance to survive whatever this is.
“Oh, Palmer,” Byron singsongs from somewhere close. “Palmer Weston, where are you? Where could you be hiding?” Every word is manic, shaky, but not out of fear. Something far worse hides behind his voice. Desperation.
I duck behind the sign at the front entrance of Glass Heart Academy. Braving a quick look around, I see Dixon and Byron surveying the grounds. They seem to be the ones in control. Behind them, Breaker is whispering something to Marek.
“Come on, baby girl!” Byron shouts. “We just want to talk to you, is all.”
They killed my sister. I’m certain of it. Why else would they be doing this? There’s no other explanation. I’ve tried to think of a number of reasonable excuses, and I always come up shorthanded.
I step out in the open, too tired to run, and beyond tired of hiding. This isn’t me laying down and giving up. Wondering when my time will come has manifested into a strength to face a world that has proven it’s working against me. “You want to talk, then talk.”
“Oh, there she is.” Dixon circles, his mask in place. His eyes aren’t forgiving, pinning me to my spot. He takes long strides to me, not touching me, but close enough to have me on edge and watching his every move. “What should we do to her now? Looks like Marek’s already had a little fun.” His finger feathers my neck where I know there are the remnants of blood.
Byron rushes forward. Breaker throws his arm out, blocking Marek from taking a step towards me. If this is my fate, to be torn down by four boys with too much power, then so be it. What I won’t give them is the satisfaction of making me seem weak or unable to handle myself.
I swallow the lump in my throat and straighten my spine, drawing Marek’s attention to me. If he’s not going to stop them, then he gets the pleasure of watching the life drain from my eyes.
“You were never worthy of my sister, Byron,” I say, knowing damn well I’m poking the bear but not caring enough not to. “She was everything right in the world. Kind. Generous. Thoughtful. You are none of those things. Whoever took her out of this life did her a favor, if it meant she got away from you.”
“Grab her,” Byron demands, pointing at Dixon.
“Or maybe it was you.” My eyes shift between all of them. I’m ready to spill the secret capable of ruining them. “Lovers’ quarrel turned bad? Too much jealousy?”
Dixon’s arms wrap around my waist. Stupid move. If he thinks I’m a female that hasn’t taken some sort of self-defense, he’s dumber than I’d thought. I reach up, pressing the pads of my thumbs into his eyeballs. He winces and throws me to the ground. Hard. With a loud thud, my back hits the cement, and piercing, angry pain runs through my body.
I roll onto my side, wishing the throb away, but it never leaves. A boot connects to my stomach, and I’m lifted from the cold ground, held up on display.
“Don’t do that again, sweetheart, or else I’ll break your ribs next time.” Dixon glares at me.
“I never did like you.” I spit in Dixon’s face, forcing him to drop me. This time, I get decent footing and start running.
Four sets of feet pound behind me. Marek should be able to catch me. He’s quick and able to outsmart me, but he never comes. I run along the backside of campus, spotting the bonfire still in full flare. Students mill about the area, but screaming is pointless. They won’t hear me, and even if they do, with the guys chasing me, no one would do anything to help me.
I head straight to the cafeteria, remembering the back entrance is always unlocked. The door flies open and slams behind me. Hiding isn’t an option. They’ll find me down here. The back stairwell is the safest bet. The building used to be the auditorium, and they’ve never removed the catwalk, the perfect place to hide in the darkness.
As I reach the metal walkway, the door opens again and slams shortly after. I’m running out of time. Their dark shadows dance below me, searching beneath every table and inside every booth. Marek follows the lines on the walls, up the beams placed several years ago. I press against the wall, afraid he’s seen me.