Page 209 of Forbidden Lessons

“Leave me!” I roar, yanking so hard that I get one of my arms free. I turn to the other guy still holding me, and snarl at Kruger. “Get the fuck off me!”

“Not a chance, bro.” He twists my arm, and then grabs my other one, locking them behind my back.

I’m waiting, fuckingexpectingly, someone to come up and start punching me. Maybe Ezra, if Ezra wasn’t still lying there, dying.

Kruger drags me off the DJ stand, him and iPhone maneuvering me into the trees through the pouring rain.

By the time the party lights are blocked by the leaves, and the panicked noise is left behind, my heart rate has dropped, and my veins aren’t pumping pure adrenaline through my body.

The icy rain helps. Like it’s cooling down the inferno of hatred seething inside me. But, man, there’s just too much of it.

“You wanna tell me what the fuck snapped in that head of yours?” iPhone asks, handing me a bottle of water.

I chug half of it before I dare take a breath. And it helps, suffocating the rage churning inside me some. But then my brain flashes me an image of Haven on her knees, that collar around her neck, looking so confused and scared and naked and?—

“Dude, stop!” Kruger seizes my arm, hauling me back as I make a lunge for the dance floor, flicking his head to get his wet hair out of his face. “Whatever point you were trying to make, you fucking made it already.”

I pull out of his grip, drag my hands through my own matted mess.

“Cunt!” I yell, kicking a tree. “Fuck!” I grab my foot, hopping on one leg until iPhone angles me toward a tree and I can lean against it for balance.

“Motherfucking cunt!” I roar toward the dance floor. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Yeah, Kai, dude?” iPhone laughs with zero humor. “Ezra’s knocked the fuck out, bro. He can’t hear you for shit.”

Kruger grabs my wrist, shoves a lit joint between my fingers, forcing me to cup it so it doesn’t get rained on. “Smoke this. Chill the fuck out.”

iPhone pats my shoulder. “We gotta get your story straight before the cops show up.”

Cops?

Jesus.

I hit the joint like my life depends on it. Because, fuck, it probably does.

There’s a surge of queasiness as my hyper-sensitive body recoils from the intense taste of the weed, then a lead sheet falls over me.

It brings clarity with it.

“Where is she?” I push away from the tree, growling when Kruger drags me back.

“Who, bro?”

“Haven! The girl my fucking cunt of an asshole brother—” I cut off, because I want to puke even repeating what he did to her.

iPhone’s on his phone, signaling something to Kruger as he turns away to make a call.

“More, bro.” Kruger urges my wrist up, and I hit the joint that had been dangling from a limp hand at my side. “You ain’t chill enough yet.”

iPhone is back. “Nolan saw her leave with Melissa.”

“So wherethe fuckis she?” At least I’m not yelling, but from the way iPhone flinches, it doesn’t fucking matter.

There’s murder in my voice.

iPhone holds up a finger, turns, and makes another call.

“How you feeling, bro?” Kruger takes the joint out of my fingers, hits it, passes it back.

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