Page 37 of Puck Princess

I’m back where I started and there’s no way out.

13

CALLIE

The first thing I noticed about Spencer Santos was his eyes. The way they were a sunburst shade of green. Almost like a firework. They seemed to dance in any lighting. They never looked the same twice.

Spencer Santos shifted in the same way. From sweet to mean, kind to controlling, charming to dangerous.

And the eyes I thought I might come to love were black as night as he backed me into that closet.

When he curled his hand around my throat, holding me where I stood and forcing his tongue into my mouth so I couldn’t scream, I realized Spencer Santos was not who I thought.

He took what he wanted, leaving nothing behind.

He was cruel.

And he was a monster.

“Callie?” Lance’s voice jerks me back into the present.

Breathe. You have to breathe. He can’t hurt you with other people here.

But my instincts don’t listen to reason. They listen to experience.

Even as I look at my friends—at Lance and Dax standing only a few feet away—I can’t believe I’m safe.

I’ll never be safe when Spencer is nearby.

I swallow down the bile crawling up my throat. “Sorry,” I choke out. “I was just thinking that you all are pretty beat up from practice today.”

“It was a tough run,” Lance admits.

“Your boyfriend was skull dragging us most of the time,” Dax complains.

“Boyfriend?” Spencer raises an eyebrow, and I realize then that everything is going to be a game.

There is no way he doesn’t know Owen and I are together. It’s all over the news. Not to mention, he’s literally been stalking me. But this is the dance he likes, and for now, I’ll play along. If it means making it out of this room, I’ll dance.

“Owen Sharpe. We’re together.” I turn to check Dax out even though there’s nothing wrong with Dax. He’s here because he’s an overexcited puppy who likes to follow the other bigger dogs around. But it gives me something to do.

“Did we or did we not talk about it in the locker room this morning?” Dax asks. He raps his knuckles against Spencer’s head. “Keep up, rookie.”

“I guess I was distracted.” Spencer leans forward in a stretch, his eyes locked on mine. He winces with the movement, and I’m not stupid. I know where this is going.

“You think you could help me out with this ache, Cal Gal? I’ve heard you have magic hands.”

The suggestive words make my stomach turn.

I want to say no. I want to run away and never come back.

“Cal Gal?” Dax explodes. “If you want to keep your dick, don’t let Owen hear you call her that.”

I hold my hands up in surrender. It’s an apt move for several reasons. “Just normal hands here.”

“She’s lying; they’re magic.” Dax groans as I roll his shoulder. “Painful, maybe, but the best.”

After a few more rotations of his shoulder, he stands up, letting Spencer take his place.

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