Page 4 of Torment Her (Rebels at Sterling Prep 5)

My parents died when I was young, and I moved in with my great aunt. But she got sick right before the summer and died. With nowhere to go, Warren and his dad had taken me in. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than the alternative.

I’m still only seventeen, a minor. And I have nothing.

No one.

My life is a fucking mess.

“Okay, I think we’re all done here.” The doctor looms over me. “I know it feels desperate right now, but there are people out there who can help you. Counselors—”

“I’m good. Thanks, doc.” I can’t disguise the sarcasm in my voice.

Counselling won’t help someone like me. Someone bound to a life of heartache and pain.

“Very well. Goodbye, Kennedy.” He hesitates, the anguish in his eyes obvious. He’s a doctor. His job is to help people, to make things better. I guess James Jagger pays him a hefty fee to make house calls, especially one like this. But when you’re one of the richest men in Sterling Bay, it’s probably pocket change.

I just don’t understand why. Why has he gone to all this trouble... for me?

The reason stares back at me as Dr. Miles opens the door.

“Conner,” he sighs. “She specifically asked for you to—”

“I’m not in the room,” he argues. “But she can’t stop me from standing outside my own bedroom door.” His eyes flash to mine, and I cuss under my breath.

He isn’t going to make this easy.

He’ll never let me just walk out of here.

I need a plan.

But right now, I can hardly move, so I’ll have to give myself some time to recover first.

“I just want to talk,” Conner says over the doctor’s shoulder.

“Well, I don’t.” I let out an indignant huff.

“Conner.” It’s a female voice, but it doesn’t sound like Remi.

Jesus, what is this place? A hotel for stray kids?

The second the door closes, the silence is deafening. I don’t want company, but being alone brings its own nightmares. No matter how hard I try to keep them at bay, the memories infiltrate my mind.

Screwing my eyes shut, I try to think of something—anything—but what happened.

“Warren, you’re hurting me.”

His grip on my hair tightens. “Hurting you? I’ll fucking kill you if I find out anything happened with you and Jagger.”

“It... it didn’t,” I breathe, clamping my hands around his, trying desperately to claw his fingers from the hair at my scalp.

Warren shoves me into the wall, the air whooshing from my lungs. “I saw the two of you.”

“Talking,” I implore, holding up my hands as a shield. “We were just talking.”

“And what did you tell him, Kenny? Ay? What the fuck did you tell him?” His eyes are wild, spittle flying from his lips.

When he’s like this, it’s impossible to get through to him.

“I-I didn’t tell him—”

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