Page 13 of Soul of a Psycho

“Maybe tell them their son is a cock sucker who should’ve kept his hands to himself,” I say.

Her eyes flare, and I continue. “And maybe expelhimfor being a shit stain on society that prompted someone to have to defend them self. Did you even think of that?”

I could go on. I want to go on. But she’s already shaking her head, and I regret even getting started in the first place. I’m wasting my breath. She won’t understand until it’s too late. None of them will.

She purses her lips and examines my face with disdain for a moment, before her features soften, and I shift uncomfortably under her solemn gaze.

“You know, we had a deal, Cade, but maybe you need to go back to Briarcreek for a few months.”

All the hairs on the back of my neck stand up at the mention of Briarcreek Mental Institution. If Hillcrest is a prison, then Briarcreek is a hell where fire would only be an improvement.

“I’m eighteen.” I sit forward. “And the only way you are getting me back in there is by committing me. Are you going to commit me, headmistress?”

Her bottom lip falls at my address of her, but all pleasantries are out the window at her threat.

She regains herself quickly, and hugs her sweater tighter around herself.

“If I have to.” She gives me a hard stare that convinces me just might.

I stand up quickly, the chair falling back as I do, and I slam my hands on her desk, leaning forward so I can make sure she understands me.

“If you call Dr. Rutherford, if you evenmentionBriarcreek again, I will make sure every single person on this campus knows your dirty little secret. And if you do it anyway, if they take me, Iwon’tbe coming back this time.”

My muscles shake with rage, and I’m grateful she knows to keep any response to herself. It takes all my patience to push off the desk, walk around the fallen chair, and get out of her office before I detonate too soon.

When I pull the door shut behind me, I don’t even get a second to breathe before my rage doubles. Sky is sitting in one of the chairs just across the hall and is covered in blood. Her eyes widen when they catch mine, but she quickly looks away, as if she just overheard my tirade. But that’s the least of my worries now.

“What the fuck happened?” I step across the hall and don’t hesitate to kneel in front of her. She’s clutching her elbow, and there are smears of red across the white shirt of her uniform. The blood seems to have dried between her fingers, and they make a cracking noise as she pulls away from me.

“I’m fine,” she snaps. “I’m just waiting on the nurse.”

I whip my head around to the infirmary door that is closed, with a little sign hanging from the knob that sayswith a patient, and I think I know who is being taken care of before Sky.

Caleb.

I growl and look back at the mess of blood. She’s not fine, but I should take her at her word and leave. I don’t need to fawn over this girl. I don’t need to be upset that she’s covered in blood. She’ll look a lot worse by the end of the year.

I put my arm under her legs and scoop her up.

“What are you doing?!” she hisses and wriggles.

I haven’t a fucking clue, so I ignore her and clamp her against my chest like a feral cat that needs to be subdued.

“Cade!” she manages to whisper and screech at the same time as she peers over my shoulder, but her arms wrap around me anyway, and with the confidence that she’s not going to jump from my arms, I raise to my full height. She stiffens in my hold.

Fuckkkk.I can do whatever I want with her now that I have her. Drop her, steal her,kissher. She’s at whatever whim I possess, and the possibilities make my dick hard. It’s intoxicating to have her clutching onto me for dear life, her delicate form clinging to me like I’m a lifeline, like I’msomethingto her, as if I alone possess the power to condemn her or save her.

And in this moment, I do.

I begrudgingly use my boot to kick open one of the other patient rooms. I may be corrupt, but not with power. I set her down on the exam table and watch as she shimmies to tug down her skirt. It’s practically around her waist, and I catch a glimpse of black lace and soft inner thighs.

Maybe I should have run with her.

I drag a hand through my hair, resisting the urge to pull out the strands, and ask her again what happened, if not to just distract myself.

“I fell, but I’m fine. I just need to rinse off the blood,” she says, craning her elbow to get a better look.

In the light, I can see just how bad it is, and I grit my teeth. “You fell, huh?”

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