Page 74 of Dare To Fall

Look your fill, students of Churchill Bradley. Behold the Monster.

Chapter 46

Arabella

People are screaming and shouting. I’m down on my knees, sucking in air, as I try to focus on what’s happening, but my brain is sluggish, dazed. My heart is pounding in my ears. I can still feel the imprint of Eli’s hands around my throat. The feral look in his eyes when he pinned me to the wall is branded in my brain.

When I lift my head, it takes a second for me to understand what I’m seeing.

Eli is kneeling over someone on the floor, his fists flying, blood spraying.

Garrett.

The other boy’s face is a mess of red, and he’s struggling weakly beneath his attacker. Some of the jocks try to pull Eli off of him, but he’s snapping and snarling like a rabid animal.

Eli is going to kill him.

I try to cry out, to beg him to stop, but my voice is a small croak, swallowed by the other shouts and noise.

What is happening?

I don’t understand.

He’d attacked me out of nowhere without any provocation.

Horror chills my blood, tears spilling free, as the jocks struggle and fail to drag Eli off their friend.

Oh god, he’s going to kill Garrett.

He tried to kill me.

Kellan emerges from the gathered crowd, pushing his way past the other students with Miles a step behind him. He strides over to my stepbrother, but instead of grabbing him, he touches his shoulder. “Eli, enough. You have to stop.”

“Bella, are you okay?” Miles crouches in front of me, blocking my view.

Crawling into his open arms, I sob into his chest. “Garrett! He’s going to kill Garrett.” My voice is raspy, and it hurts to swallow.

His arms close around me, and I’m wrapped in a tight hug. “Kellan stopped him. What the hell happened?”

I shake my head. “Don’t know. I don’t know! Keep him away from me.” Confusion and fear tear me up from the inside out.

Eli tried to kill me.

His eyes had been empty of everything except fury. They burned with rage.

I sob harder into Miles’ chest.

Eli really is the monster everyone claims him to be.

Chapter 47

Eli

I don’t know what hurts more—my head or my knuckles. My hands are swollen. I can barely lift a pencil, which worries me for a while until the nurse says I haven’t broken any fingers and the swelling will go down in a day or two.

Painkillers aren’t helping the headache, though, so I’m lying on the bed, covers over my head with the curtains closed and the light off.

The scrape of a chair warns me that someone else is in the room. I don’t move from my position to find out who it is.

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