Page 20 of Corrupt Me

“Who the fuck said I needed you to save me? I’m not a damsel in distress. Besides, the only time I’m in trouble is because of you!” I dutifully pointed out.

Tristan came to a sudden halt, yanking me back so I more or less stumbled into him. His fingers landed on my hips, steadying me. Under heavily mascara-lined lashes, I glared up at him.

“Go home before more trouble finds you,” he said, those blue eyes of his dark and cloudy.

My mouth went dry. I wanted to remove my hands from his chest before I did something I’d regret, but there wasn’t enough space between us. “You don’t get to order me about, Tristan Malone. Not here,” I barked, clinging to my anger because the other emotions trying to push through were not good.

He chuckled, his breath warm on the top of my forehead. “We’ll see.”

God, what an egotistical prick!

He needed a good swift kick to the nuts. Something to shrink his inflated balls. I shoved his chest, taking a step back at the same time, praying the momentum would release me from his arms and I wouldn’t fall on my ass. He let me go, and I managed not to make a fool of myself. “How did you know I was here? Were you following me?” I hurled.

Shaking his head, he started walking again down the path, expecting me to follow. “What would you have done if I hadn’t happened to pass by?”

I trotted to catch up to him, not because he expected me to but because we were headed in the same direction. “I had the situation under control,” I insisted.

“Whatever you say, Ever. Just like that night at Lang’s party, huh?” he tossed over his shoulder.

The same night he took racy photos of me in his bed and then used them in the morning to blackmail me. I wasn’t pleased with the reminder. He stopped at the front stoop of Thorn Hall. I stepped right up to him, my fingers curled into balls. “When did you start to hate me so much?”

He braced a hand over my head on the white banister. “This has nothing to do with how I feel about you.”

Heat prickled over my arms and the back of my neck like a rash. I couldn’t tell if it was irritation or something else. “Really, because it feels pretty fucking personal.”

He sighed, toying with the hoop on his lip. “Don’t be so sensitive.”

Okay. That’s it.Why did I think I would get any answers from him? “Just stay out of my way.”

He backed up, sweeping an arm toward the door. I shot him one last glare and bolted inside. Once I was through the front door, I didn’t spare Tristan another glance and stomped my ass up two flights of stairs to my room on the third floor. “Can you believe that jerk?” I mumbled to no one, pacing from wall to wall.

I let out an aggravated growl before plopping down onto the bed.You just have to survive one more night under the same roof. No biggie. What can happen in one night?

Turning my head to the side, I eyed the tubs of stuff not yet unpacked. I had no plans to unload them either.One night, I reminded myself.One fucking night.

After locating my box with a few paperbacks I’d brought with me, I climbed into bed and opened a mystery novel, snuggling deep into the covers. For the remainder of the night, I lost myself in the engaging story, doing my best to keep my mind from wondering which room Tristan slept in. Or if he was in bed alone. Had he brought the busty redhead with him?

He disgusted me.

Who brought home a hookup on their first night? I guess this really wasn’t Tristan’s first night at FSU. He was a senior now and probably knew the bimbo well. Was she his girlfriend?

Doubtful.

Tristan Malone didn’t steadily date. Not long-term. And never the same girl.

He was a manwhore.

By midnight, I gave up, set the book aside, and slept. The first night in a new place was always difficult for me. I was a creature who thrived on routine and familiarity. The bed, although plentycomfortable enough, was different. The sounds outside the house, the softness of the bed, and the darkness that blanketed the room were all foreign. It would take some getting used to.

It took longer than usual for me to fall into that state of deep sleep, but when I did, I wished I’d never closed my eyes.

Flashes of blood colored the water a deep red.God. So much fucking blood.Screams echoed into the stars—screams that I knew were mine. I recognized the rising panic. The rapid heartbeat threatened to jump out of my chest. A pit inside of my gut the size of a bowling ball, so damn heavy it weighed me down. I dropped onto the concrete, my knees hitting the ground, but I did not feel the pain. The world spun. And spun. Wildly churning out of control. I had nothing to grab on to, nothing to keep me from falling into that dark hole swirling in front of me.

Caught back at that night, a part of me knew all I had to do was wake up to stop reliving that horror again and again. Yet, I couldn’t seem to be able to pull my mind out of that unconscious state that held me prisoner. I slammed my mental fists against the invisible barrier, but I couldn’t break through. I wasn’t strong enough.

Not yet. Would I ever be?

A whisper trembled from my lips as I sank, further and further. The slim light from the moon faded away, and no matter how hard I reached out to hold on to that light, the darkness engulfed me, snuffing out the last of the soft glow.

---