Page 21 of King

“And you’re not?” He lets go of my hand, only to brush a finger against my bare thigh, “You like to play rough. Saw it myself. You're my type, Medusa and you’re in my town.” He smirks, “I’m going to ruin you.”

He’s referring to Zane and it only makes me angrier, “Why’d you stop him if you’re only going to pick up where he left off?”

“If you think I’m like that slop from The Grove you’re more delusional than I thought.” His hand climbs up my kilt, moving further up my thigh. It sends another shockwave of shivers through me. “I didn’t stop him because of you. I stopped him because I didn’t want a murder on my dad’s property. And after that shit you pulled in Homeroom, it looks like I’ll have to show you how to have some respect.”

I hate that he leaves a trail of tingles. Pushing his hand away, I try to fight it. “I want nothing to do with you.”

“Neither do your foster parents,” he shoots back, finding the bottom of my boyshorts. The bell rings but he continues, “Tell me. Do you wish your parents were still alive to see you grow up to be a whore?”

The sounds of the hallway turn into a high-pitched ring, my fists clenching, my face boiling. I can’t think myself through the anger and before I know it, spit is flying from my mouth, landing right in Damien’s grey eye. There’s a gasp from behind him, then whispers, like I’m in the middle of my own teen drama.

My heart races, the sound coming back, glob of spit hanging from his cheek.

Holy fuck. I just spit in Damien King’s face.

And everyone in this hallway saw it.

Damien doesn’t wipe it off. He moves his hand to my throat, grip tightening with a look on his face that tells me he’s seeing red. My jaw clenches and with what air I have left, I push the words out of my mouth, “Let, go of me, Damien.”

The bell rings but I still hear his words through clenched teeth, his nose touching mine. “Beg, you fucking bitch.” His hand pushes through my grip, pulling on the fabric of my shorts.

With an empty hallway, I’m wondering if this kid really is that fucked up, “Damien.” I don’t yell his name, I don’t push back. I’m trying to see if there’s a human inside his fucked up mind. He stops when I say it, a spacey look in his eyes.

“What’s going on?” A teacher in a green and white suit appears at the end of the hall, his eyes on us. “The bell rang in case neither of you heard it.”

Damien drops his hands, taking a step back and I breathe in my first full breath in a while. But there’s no way I’m letting him get away with how he just handled me. I fix my shirt, looking at him as he stares at me.

“I’m not a punching bag for your mommy issues.” I fasten the top button, aware of the cold already enveloping me with his body a couple of feet away. Confusion rising in my gut, I do the stupid thing and double down, stooping as low as he goes. “At least she’s not around to see who you’ve become.”

He lets out a throaty laugh as I finally move around him. My heart beats out my chest before I hear him call behind me, “How does it feel Medusa? It must suck having everyone else know why your parents died except you.”

Damien’s words hit my chest like a bullet, and when I turn around to charge him, he’s already gone, the teacher still in his place. He’s scowling at me, arms crossed.

I try to defend myself, “He just—”

“To class!” He points towards the end of the hall.

Of course, they don’t care that Sebastien King’s son assaulted me on school property. Dropping my shoulders I go, but Damien’s words are on replay.

What the fuck did he mean by that? I was there when my house went down in a roaring fire. I smelt the fumes. I saw the flames.

Is there more to their death than I know? And does this school have the answer?

I’m barely looking at the numbers on the door as I make my way to my next class, gripping the schedule I pulled from my bag. If Damien King wants me to leave, he just made it a hell of a lot harder. If these walls have answers, I’ll find them.

Damien’s words are still ringing in my head when I find the glossy wooden door of death.

Algebra.

Not only is it my worst subject but I can see Lea’s head and a couple of her Trust Fund Trolls through the window. What makes matters worse is that I also can’t seem to pinpoint Allie.

I’m thinking about skipping it altogether but two things pop into my mind.

One, that would be letting Damien win.

Two, I’m supposed to be bettering my chances of getting into a good school. Skipping this class won’t help.

So I take a deep breath and put a hand on the knob.

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