Page 56 of Bleed for Me

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” I muttered, not bothering to keep my voice down.

Cheyanne jabbed her elbow into my arm and shot me a serious look, shaking her head as if to tell me to shut the hell up.

I rolled my eyes, but decided she was probably right. Jordan was actually intimidating, and I knew his threats weren’t empty ones.

Shay shot him a sickly-sweet smile, her eyes darting over to Tyler out of her peripheral. Realization dawned on me right then and it took everything in me not to laugh. She was trying to make himjealous. But why with Jordan of all people?

Jordan smirked at her, feeding into whatever game she was playing. But there was a knowing look in his eyes that indicated he might have been in on that joke.

I shook my head. Poor Tyler. He didn’t deserve that. If she wanted something from him, she needed to be direct with him. Not attempt to hurt him or piss him off.

“Something you want to say, Rosalie?” Jordan called out, taunting me.

Everyone’s eyes fell on me, the heat of their stares boring into my skin. Raising my gaze to meet his, I glared at him. He was baiting me. “If I had something I wanted to say, don’t you think I would have said it?”

I realized then, as his taunting smirk stretched into a maniacal grin, that this was the exact reaction he’d wanted. As Shay hesitantly backed away and slipped into the seat beside Tyler, Jordan turned his body in my direction, his blue eyes promising me pain.

“Come,” he ordered.

My nails dug into the smooth polish of the wooden table before me, fury spreading through my veins. Before arriving here, I could probably count on one hand how many times I’d been pissed off to the extent of my entire body awakening with liquid rage. Jordan had power over me until he collected whatever favor it was he wanted. The look in his eyes told me he planned on milking it for all it was worth.

I was pissed off because it wasn’t often that I got to hangout with friends outside of group therapy. In fact, this might have been the only time they’d invited me to do anything with them at all. After this, I wouldn’t blame Cheyanne if she decided not to invite me to hang out in the future.

Forcing myself to my feet, I rounded the table. My limbs vibrated with anger as I approached him, and for a moment, I wondered how satisfying it would feel to punch him. He wouldprobably return the favor by snapping my neck, but at least I had options.

He shot me a smug smile like he’d just won something out of my compliance. The only thing he’d won was my homicidal thoughts surfacing to the forefront of my brain. Not that I’d succeed in doing any real harm, but if I could even manage to make him feel the smallest amount of pain, it could be worth it.Maybe.

I followed him out of the library, but he didn’t stop once our feet met the tiled floor like I’d expected. Instead, he kept walking, leaving me to trail behind him in confusion.

He led me to a door I didn’t recognize which only sat a few doors down from my own. Shoving through it, he motioned me forward. Hesitation trickled through me as I crossed the threshold, my gaze drifting around the space that looked so similar to mine.

When the door closed behind him, my breath stuttered, alarm bells going off around my skull. Whirling around, I stared at him with wide eyes, my throat constricting with fear.

He rolled his eyes at my reaction and moved past me to sit on the bed that seemed much too small for someone of his size.

“This is your room,” I pointed out.

“It is.”

Swallowing, I wrapped my arms around myself in a protective stance. “Why did you bring me here?”

“To talk without prying ears.” He shrugged.

My eyebrows dipped in confusion. “We could have gone to the garden,” I pointed out, not liking the fact that I was in here alone with only him and a bed.

“This was closer.” Amusement flickered in his gaze as his eyes roamed over me. He was clearly getting off on scaring me and that just irritated me further.

“If you try anything, I’ll claw your eyes out,” I warned.

He groaned, the sound coming out way more sexual than anything else. “Don’t talk dirty to me. This conversation may go in a very different direction than intended.”

A huff of exasperation fled my lips, and I glared at him from where he sat. “What did you want to talk about?” I snapped, quickly losing my patience.

His expression turned serious, and he braced his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. The energy in the room changed with his posture. No longer was he playful and threatening; he was now cold and distant as he searched my gaze. “What do you know about Ryder Brookhaven?” he asked.

I spluttered, my eyes wide as I stared him down. “Brookhaven?” I asked in bewilderment.

The guy who I’d been hanging out with was named after this town—after this psychiatric facility. My mind spun as I attempted to process what that meant exactly.

---