Page 82 of Wicked Surrender

I wanted to roar at the despair in her reply.

“I wanted to punish you and ruin you because it would be one part of seeking revenge. I couldn’t stop bullying you because it was a way to hit back at the one I wanted to see miserable.”

She shook her head, reaching for her shorts and tugging them on, as if being exposed at all would weaken her further under the delivery of my honesty.

“Revenge? Revenge for what? I’ve never done anything to?—”

“Your father.” Even saying that tasted acidic, like the mere thought of him would always be rotten from deep inside me. “I hate your family, Laura.”

But not you. Never you.

“Because of your father, I have wanted to ruin and hurt and destroy your family just like he did to mine. Your father was the person responsible for my brother’s expulsion over a year ago. Your father kicked out William without mercy, and because of that change and direct halt to his future, he’s gone down a path that he can’t easily return from.”

I stood as she did. I wouldn’t chase after her. I wouldn’t try to reach for her or coddle her. But I couldn’t just sit here and tell her this hard truth. This confession had me wishing I could move and pace.

“William was innocent, but that didn’t matter to your father. And ever since then, I’ve let this deep-seated anger fester and rot inside me, pushing me to want to hit back at him however I could.”

She backed up toward the door, like a scared but angry animal who had to run.

“When you showed up as my tutor, it seemed like the perfect way to hit him. You were there, forced to be with me, and I couldn’t think of anything but inflicting as much pain on you as I could. You were collateral damage, Laura. You were supposed to be the means for me to hit back at him.”

“I wasn’t.” She was seething, getting the furious words out through clenched teeth. “I wasn’t collateral damage. I never could be, you fucking idiot.”

I shook my head, counting on her reaction, but I didn’t comprehend what she meant.

“You—” She stepped back faster, slamming into the door until she realized where she was to grab the doorknob. “You… Why did you have to tell me this?”

“Because,” I argued. “Because you deserve to know the truth.”

“No!” She wrenched the door open. Her eyes glossed over with unshed tears. “No, Jason. Why couldn’t you have just let my ignorance be bliss? Why did you have to ever tell such a fucked-up— Why?” She screeched the last word, retreating out the door.

“I—”

“No.” She shook her head harder, frantic and jerky like she couldn’t think fast enough to power her actions. “No. Don’t say another word. Don’t speak to me. Ever. I’m done with you. I’m through with this manipulation and?—”

I stepped forward, but she thrust her hand up. Even though I wasn’t near her to touch her, she pushed her hand up as if she had to ward me off.

“No. I’m done with this… whatever this was supposed to be. I’m done with you, Jason.” As she held on to the edge of the door, she shot me one more scathing glare. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

She slammed the door shut with a loud bang. The thud of the wood hitting the frame sounded with a depressing finality.

As the sounds of her fast footsteps sounded on the stairs, I closed my eyes and hung my head.

27

LAURA

The week before the symposium was busy with preparations. Each day also passed with blinding slowness that consisted of the same trial of headaches, heartaches, and dismay that suffocated me after I left Jason’s room.

That was twice that I’d run from his bedroom. Twice that I’d taken off to escape from his frat house.

And it was the last time that I’d seen him.

It wasn’t for a lack of his trying, though.

All week long, as I buckled down to get ready for the symposium, he attempted to infiltrate my life.

He called me nonstop. A long list of texts waited for me, all unread. Emails popped up to clutter my inbox. If I stayed on my phone at all, I’d be stuck acknowledging the growing count of voicemails that he’d left me too.

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