Page 58 of Disorder (Elite of Elmwood 2)

“You think you can replace me?” Ava snarled, her eyes turning wild like a feral beast.

“Not think, I already have.” So not smart to antagonize the skank and her evil minions, seeing as I was outnumbered and it was clear I’d been set up, but when it came to Ava, I lacked caution.

I despised the girl.

She had done nothing but make my life hell since I’d come to the Academy.

Fuck it.

I shoved forward and braced myself for the torment that was about to follow, but I’d at least have the satisfaction of delivering the first hit. And I was going for the queen bitch herself. My fist thrust forward, Mads’s key tight in my grip as it slashed along the side of Ava’s check. Not quite the spot I’d aimed for but as long as it left a mark, I didn’t care.

Someone grabbed my hair, another my shirt, the material ripping. I was yanked backward while Ava cursed, a clutching the side of her face. “You bitch. This is going to hurt twice as much for that.” With an open palm, she slapped me across the face.

As someone who’s been slapped more than once, the sting that flared over my cheek was familiar, but damn, it still hurt every fucking time.

I blindly punched and smacked at the hands holding me, nails scratching. I kept fighting them. It didn’t do much good once the first kick blasted me in the gut, knocking the air out of my lungs. I hit the ground, gasping wildly. Before I could catch a breath, a shoe landed into my side.

Sweet Jesus.

Pain burst through me from the force of the hit. I clamped my mouth closed, swallowing the cry of agony. I kicked out at them, over and over again.

“She’s insane.”

“Ouch. Dammit.”

“Hold her down.”

A hand latched onto my leg, another stepped on my ankle. Instinctually, I turned onto my side and lifted my arms to cover my head as I tried to curl myself into a tiny ball. I grunted as I took another hit in my lower abdomen, then one to the hip. The torture seemed to go on infinitely. Logically it had probably only been a minute or two, but they were the longest minutes of my life.

No tears. No pleas. No cries. I refused to make a sound.

Blood dripped along the side of my head, and one of my eyes was swollen shut. I tried to fight them off. I definitely didn’t make it easy for them.

“Hey!” someone yelled. “Get off her!”

Had I imagined a male voice?Please, God.The beating stopped, and a shudder of relief went through me.

“The fun’s over,” Ava hissed. “For now.”

“We’re not done with you yet, James.”

“Let’s fucking go.”

Footsteps scrambled, pounding away. “Stop!” someone yelled. Seconds later, a shadow moved above me.

“Oh, dear God,” someone else choked out, an elderly woman.

“Call 911,” the deep voice ordered.

Whoever this person was, they just became my hero.

If this guy hadn’t stumbled upon me, how much further would Ava have gone?

He crouched down, careful not to touch me. “Don’t move.”

I don’t think I could even if I tried. Through my good eye, I stared up at his face, but his features were blurry, my vision hampered from the swelling that was only getting worse. I wanted to thank him, but making my lips form words proved to be too damn painful.

“Just hang on,” the guy reassured over and over. His voice was deep and solid, which I found soothing. Strong but gentle fingers wrapped around my hand. “I’ve got you.”

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