Page 182 of Teacher's Pet

Anastasia

Jake drags me along, his grip like a vice, his fingers tangled in my hair so tight it sends jolts of pain down my spine. The wounds he’s already inflicted bleed freely, warm rivulets trickling down my skin.

He takes a path no one would, one slick with mud and shadows, where the looming chill of winter settles in. My heels sink into the soft earth, caking in thick layers of filth with every stumbling step.

Stay calm.

I force myself to rationalize, to analyze every detail, every possible way out.

"I’m following you," I hiss, my voice raw, shaking. "The least you can do is ease up."

Jake laughs, the sound slicing through the cold air. His grip tightens instead.

"What’s the fun in that?" His voice slithers into my ear, smug, grating. "I know you like it rough, Ana. Can’t both brothers have a go?"

Bile rises in my throat.

Then, I see them.

My stomach drops.

Cole and Walker linger beside a blacked-out Porsche, leaning against the vehicle like this is casual, like they’re waiting for a business deal to go through. But I see it, the unmistakable bulge of guns tucked into their waistbands.

Fuck.

This is bad.

Jake yanks me forward, stumbling as I approach them. The Porsche is parked away from the school, tucked into the shadows, hidden by the sea of cars filling the lot.

"Holy fucking shit," Walker laughs, his eyes gleaming. "You actually got her away from him-"

I snap.

Swinging my leg out, I kick Walker square in the crotch, watching with satisfaction as his laughter twists into agony.

He doubles over, groaning, his face contorted in pain. Good.

A smirk tugs at my lips. I gear up for another strike-

Too slow.

"You stupid whore-"

Cole grabs me by the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair before slamming my face against the hood of the car.

Stars explode in my vision.

The world spins, pain crashing through me, leaving behind a dull, throbbing ache.

My cheek burns against the cold metal, my breath fogging against the surface as Cole’s weight pins me down. His grip is relentless, pressing into my neck, my lower back, keeping me trapped.

Behind me, Walker groans from the ground. "I-I should fucking cut you for that-"

"Don’t whine because a woman got the upper hand on you," Jake scoffs. "At least Cole knows how to handle her."

Handle me.

Jake’s words crawl under my skin like poison, but then, a new sensation.

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