Page 37 of Quiet Rage
I don’t know what haunts me more: the memory of Tiana sitting on me, pinning me to the floor, or the way she and Kellen walked away with her arms around each other.
All I know is by the time the tears are dry and I’ve washed my face, there’s only one thing to do. They win. I can’t go through this anymore.
He finally got what he wanted.
Sitting at my desk, I open my laptop and type up an email to the school registrar before I can change my mind.
Effective immediately, I am withdrawing from all of my classes and will not be returning to Wicked Falls University.
“Congratulations, Kellen,” I whisper before hitting Send. “I hope it was worth it.”
Chapter 17
Kellen
It’sa good thing I’m used to not getting much sleep and still functioning in the morning. Dad has trained me for this. Even if I am practically mainlining caffeine to get through the day just to make it from point A to point B without causing any major accidents.
Only now, it’s not the long hours he used to force on me that makes sleep elusive. It’s what he’s making me do in the daytime.
To think, I once looked at this so-called job as a way to get a little more normalcy in my life. All I had to do was torment one person instead of being up all hours serving as one of his enforcers.
There’s nothing normal about spending hour after hour lying awake, staring at the ceiling but seeing a sweaty, tear-stained face. Face covered in marker. A face full of pain and confusion. I’ve never seen anything so sad in my life.
And my punishment last night was insomnia.
A lesser punishment: constant texts from Tiana. Okay, it was a mistake, putting an arm around her. Letting her have her arm around me. I went with it, though, because I needed to getthrough Tamson’s skull. There is nothing real between her and me.
It’s a fucking shame I didn’t seem to get the same message.
Here I am, still trailing her. I am nothing better than a stalker, sitting across from the convenience store, watching her work. She hangs around behind the counter for the most part, reading in between helping customers. Twirling a strand of hair around her finger and making me wish I could test its softness.
But when she’s ringing up their things, when she smiles and even laughs sometimes, I could almost choke to death on jealousy. In a perfect world, I would be the one making her laugh. I would be the one lucky enough to bask in the warmth of that sunny smile. All I can bring her is pain.
I wanted to be sick when I heard them struggling in the bathroom yesterday. I don’t know how many times I grabbed hold of the handle on the door, ready to throw it open and rescue her.
All it took to keep me on the other side was the memory of a gun in my hand, the cold certainty that Dad might actually kill me if he was capable of having his best friend murdered. I mean, where’s the line after that? He gets what he wants. It doesn’t matter how.
Just like it doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself that I warned her. That she brought it on herself. It doesn’t make a difference.
She wasn’t at school today. When I drove past her house and her car was gone, I figured she had to be here. It’s not enough to be this far from her, even if I can see her clearly as she straightens up one of the shelves after a group of kids leave. She uses herremote control to change what’s playing on the TV mounted near the ceiling across from the register, then settles back down.
If she has the first clue I’m out here, she hasn’t shown it. I doubt she could pretend for long. She would probably call the cops on me after yesterday, and I wouldn’t completely blame her if she did. I mean, there’s nothing they could charge me with, they couldn’t even make me leave, but I wouldn’t blame her for trying.
Did she drop out of school? Is that why she wasn’t there? Or did she need a day off? I hope for both our sakes she finally went through with it and gave up. There’s no way to win. And I really, truly don’t know if I could go through with another stunt like yesterday. I’m not sure I could live with myself.
It’s hard enough to do it now, living with the memory of those reddened, tear-filled eyes glaring up at me with all the hate in the world. More than pain, more than confusion and betrayal… It was hatred, and I deserved it. This would all be so much easier to live with if I didn’t.
After a while, she stocks a few shelves, handling more customers as they trickle in and out. Once everyone’s gone, she gathers the boxes, stacking them together, then takes them to the back of the store.
I can’t help it. I have to see her. I have to know why she didn’t go to school. If she finally wised up. Crossing the street, I take the alley running alongside the store that empties into an alley running along the back of the businesses lined up along the block. The dumpsters are back here, which is where Tamson is standing on tiptoe, tossing the boxes inside.
She’s so involved in what she’s doing, she doesn’t know I’m coming up behind her. This girl seriously needs to heighten her situational awareness.
It’s only when she slams the top of the dumpster and turns around that she realizes I’m here. With a hand over her chest, she gasps before recognition kicks in.
“You!” she snaps, going red. “Why is it always you?”
Fuck, she’s beautiful. Why does she have to be so beautiful? I could spend hours watching her, and I have, but it’s not enough. I only ever want more. “You didn’t come to school today.”
