Page 73 of Dare To Take

I’m done cowering and backing down. If I have to strike back at them to get through the rest of the year, then that’s what I need to do.

“Look out.”

I turn at the sound of Miles’ voice, just as something wet drenches half my face and hair. I let out a shriek, and wipe frantically at my cheek. My hand comes away red.

Is it blood?

Laughter explodes from around me. I catch sight of Bret running along the corridor away from me with a bucket in his hand.

“Get it off.” Panic swallows me whole, and I claw at my skin. “Get it off.”

Hands grab my wrists. “It’s food dye.”

My eyes brim with frightened tears. Miles’ face blurs in front of me. “Get it off!”

“Arabella, it’s food dye,” he repeats slowly, like he’s talking to a child.

His words eventually penetrate through my fright, and the tears spill free. I jerk out of his grip, and run along the hallway sobbing, while everyone around me laughs. I don’t stop until I reach the dorm, fighting to breathe through my tears.

So much for not cowering and backing down.

The second I’m in my room, I slam the door shut and lock it and run into the bathroom. I strip off, leaving my ruined clothes in a pile on the floor. Red dye stains one shoulder and arm.

Under the shower, I scrub and scrub, until my skin turns red and it’s hard to figure out what is the dye and what isn’t. I slump forward, head resting against the tiles, arms loose at my sides and just stand there, letting the water wash over me. The water turns from red to pink to clear and my arm and shoulder is still covered in dye. Defeated and exhausted, I turn off the shower and step out. Avoiding my reflection, I wrap my body in a towel and go back into the bedroom.

What the hell am I supposed to do now? Is there anyone I can ask for help?

I’m giving serious thought to calling Elena when my cell chimes with an incoming message.

Miles: I’ve left a bag outside your door. It has foam shaving cream inside. It will help get the dye off your skin.

**

Miles’ foam did the trick to help remove the dye from my body. It took me ages to get to it all. I missed dinner, and curfew has already crawled around. With the strict rules in place, I can’t even go to one of the vending machines to get food.

How much of today was planned? There’s no way Bret was just hanging around in the corridor outside class with that bucket. Had Tina and the others been a distraction?

I flop down onto the bed and shoot off a text to Miles.

Me: Thank you. I’ve managed to get it all out. Bret is a little prick for what he did today.

I’m exhausted, stressed, and on edge. I don’t want to think about what other cruel pranks they have in store for me. My stomach churns, a mixture of hunger and fear at what might be coming.

A message notification flashes up on my cell, and I tap it, expecting it to be a reply from Miles, but it’s not. It’s an unknown number.

I debate whether to open the message or not, but a sick sense of curiosity wins out and I tap on it. It’s a video with no text attached. My fingers seem to move of their own accord, hitting play.

A couple is moaning and groaning on the screen… having sex. The image pans out, bringing the stone angel they are writhing up again into focus. It takes me a second to recognize it. The statue from the Country Club. The stone angel. I lay frozen in place, watching Eli as he fucks me. My face is clearly visible over his shoulder, lips parted, a look of extreme pleasure etched onto my features. The entire thing has been recorded, right up to where I slap him and storm away. Our faces and voices are both clear. There’s no way either of us could deny that we’re the couple.

Unknown number: Do you want us to tell your stepdad you’re fucking his son? What do you think he’ll say when he finds out the Churchill Bradley Academy Whore has her claws deep into the Travers heir? Or should that be the Travers’ heir has his cock deep inside of you? He might not survive the next heart attack you give him. You’re going to do exactly as we say, Arabella, and play our game.

Chapter 47

Eli

I don’t go straight to school. Instead, I arrange to meet Kellan in the town nearby, and we go for coffee. He whistles softly when I climb out of the car.

“An Aventador?” He circles it, stroking his fingers over the paint.

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