Page 85 of Dare To Take

“There’s blood on your sleeve.” I flick a finger toward the dark red splash as I reach for my coffee.

“I’ll send the asshole my dry-cleaning bill.”

Chapter 54

Arabella

My hand moves the paintbrush over the canvas in front of me, as I bring the painting to life.

A cemetery sits in darkness, touched by the silver light of a full moon. Twisted trees surround the tombstones encircling a fragmented doorway at the back. A figure is in the dark, dressed in red.

“Wow, Miss Gray, I’m impressed.”

I find Mr. Mclntyre just behind me. “Thanks.”

“It really evokes death and loneliness. I hope that’s what you were going for.”

“I just painted what was in my head.”

Despair, seclusion, my life as I know it.

“Keep it up, Miss Gray.”

His praise sends warmth tingling through me from head to toe. It seems like forever since anyone said anything positive to me.

I step back from my easel, stretch, and glance nervously around the classroom at the rest of the students. We’re spaced out around the room. Eli is to my right, absorbed in his painting.

Three days have passed since I ruined his car. Three days since he ruined me. The long-sleeved top I’m wearing hides the purple bruises he’s left around my wrists from when he pinned me down.

My body still pulses with frustration, empty of the release I was denied. No matter how many times I’ve used my fingers in my bed at night, I haven’t been able to find satisfaction. His rejection still lingers with me. A sharp thorn in my insecurity and pride.

Eli hasn’t approached me since it happened, but I haven’t been able to avoid his hostile stares whenever we’re in the same room. The hate that dissipated over Christmas is now back in full force.

Did he really post the video and the photo of me?

The quiet question niggles at the back of my mind.

I don’t know what to do. I want to confide in someone, to tell them what’s happening, but who do I turn to? I don’t trust the counselor not to share what I say with the principal. If someone can get the private videos and photographs I sent Sin, they can get anything recorded by the counselor.

Miles is keeping his distance, and I have no other friends here.

Amanda?

I haven’t spoken to her since I ran away to Mrs. Goldmann’s, but she’s always been the one person I have been able to confide in. And I really need someone to tell me I’m not going crazy.

I’ll call her tonight.

My cell vibrates in my pocket, and I’m plunged into panic. Every time a notification goes off, I’m scared to check it. So far, my blackmailer has been silent, but I know that won’t last forever.

I take a peek at my phone when Mr. Mclntyre isn’t looking and break out into a cold sweat.

Unknown number: Destroy his painting.

They have to be joking. Not now.

Me: But it’s the middle of class.

Unknown number: Use your imagination. You have ten minutes to do as ordered, or we’ll upload the video of you getting eaten out on old Churchill’s coffin.

---