Page 84 of Dare To Take

He leaves me there. Wet, aching, trembling in torment. Cold and alone.

Tears crest my eyes, and flow silently down my cheeks. I lay there, curled into a ball, half-naked, knees hugged to my chest, shame and despair closing in on me.

Chapter 53

Eli

I don’t stop until I’m inside the tomb with the doors closed. Spinning, I bury a fist into the wall, relishing the pain that radiates through my knuckles and up my arm. I do it again … and again until blood is dripping down my fingers.

“For an artist, you don’t take very good care of your hands.” Kellan’s voice is a dry drawl.

“How long have you been standing there?” I drop my fists and stand there … panting.

“Long enough. I take it your little chat didn’t go well.”

There’s nothing in his voice to indicate he knows what happened. I turn slowly. He’s leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded, and legs crossed at the ankles. “I saw her running over the grass.” He tuts. “You made her cry, Eli.”

“She should be glad I didn’t make her fucking bleed.” I spit the words out from between clenched teeth.

“It looks like you’re bleeding enough for both of you. You’re going to need to go to the nurse for that.” He reaches out and grabs my wrist so he can twist my hand around to examine my knuckles. “That was a stupid thing to do.”

“It’s fine.”

“Only because I distracted you.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m feeling the love right now.” He pushes away from the wall. “One. Because I’m your friend. Two. Because you’re a fucking liability when you’re in this kind of mood. And three. Because it’s dinner time.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“And yet we’re going to go to the cafeteria, and we’re going to sit down and eat food. We’re going to talk and laugh and make everyone around us question why the fuck you haven’t gone postal over the state of your car.”

“Did you get through to the mechanic?”

“Yes. He’s picking it up tomorrow.” He walks toward the door, then turns back, waving a hand toward my jeans. “Your fly is down. I’m guessing not a whole lot of talking was done at all.” He pushes the door open and walks out.

I tug up my zipper and follow him.

The cafeteria is full when we arrive, but a quick scan of the interior shows no sign of Arabella. I walk over to our usual table, while Kellan joins the line, and settle onto my seat. I place my cell on the table and tap the app for the school’s social media. Photographs of the damage Arabella has done to my car are all over it, and my anger flares higher with every one I see.

Laughter, loud and raucous, brings my head up just in time to see Kellan trip over something and lose his grip on the tray, which crashes to the ground splashing food and drink everywhere. My gaze drifts to the table of jocks close by and then down to the floor where one of them has his leg stuck out.

I lean back on my seat, the damage to my car forgotten for the moment.

Oh, this is going to be good.

Kellan’s eyes follow the same path as mine. His gaze sweeps across the two guys closest to the edge of the table, then down to where one leg is stretched out just far enough to have clipped his foot and made him stumble.

Oh, Bret, you fucking idiot.

Kellan straightens, his easy smile unwavering, as he turns to the jocks nudging each other and laughing. Laughter which cuts off abruptly when, almost too quick to follow, Kellan grabs the back of Bret’s head and slams his face into the table twice. Blood explodes outward. Bret howls. Kellan introduces his face to the table once more, then leans forward, fingers still tangled in his hair.

“If you ever make me drop my food again, it won’t be your fucking nose I break.”

He releases his grip, takes one of the trays littering the table, and turns back to the food counter, whistling cheerfully.

The entire cafeteria is silent. No one speaks while Kellan refills his tray and strolls back to me. He slides the tray onto the table and sits down.

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