Page 20 of Broken Skulls

“Stop him.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

JD pauses what he’s doing. He tips my chin with his knuckle, forcing me to look at him. “This part is non-negotiable.”

I pull my face away, again feeling naked in front of him. I don’t like that he can read me so clearly. It’s like he can hear my thoughts.

He shakes his head and goes back to bandaging my arms. When he’s finished, he pulls a joint from his pocket, lighting it. He hands it to me. “Nature’s balm for the soul,” he says, struggling to hold his hit in.

I bring it to my mouth and inhale as I watch him slowly blow smoke rings over his head.

“So, who’s Mr. Baxter?” he asks suddenly.

My eyes widen as smoke rushes from my lungs, making me cough.

JD pats my back, taking the joint from my fingers.

“Whoever he is, he better hope he’s dead. Because if he’s not, he’s going to wish he was.”

Chapter Eleven

JD

Elizabeth thinks I’m delusional for seeing her as beautiful today.

I loved every minute of watching her break over and over again as she beat the fuck out of that old Dodge.

I tap my finger over my mouth as I play tonight back in my mind. She screamed at whomever this Mr. Baxter is over a dozen times as she lost herself in the throes of her anger and hurt.

Mr. Baxter.

Someone of authority … a teacher maybe.

I glance at the clock before getting up to grab my laptop. A quick Google search and there he is. He’s a science teacher, and it looks like he also offered art classes after school. Looks like he retired early too; bet he’s enjoying that. I almost feel sorry for the poor sucker that he’s still above ground. That’s unfortunate for him.

Rolling out of bed, I pick up my phone. Brody answers first ring. “Hey, you back from the fucking beach yet?”

“Fuck no.”

“I need a hand with something.”

He groans.

“You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

“I take it this is on a need-to-know basis with the club again?”

“I didn’t take it to the table, did I?”

“Fine, but it’s going to have to wait until I get back this weekend.”

“Ah, there’s a lady involved. I knew you weren’t a beach lover.”

“Fuck you.”

He hangs up. I chuckle to myself, going back to stalking dear old Mr. Baxter. I don’t need to know what he did to know he needs to die. Slowly and painfully. I think I’ll take the bat to him.

Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.

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