Page 75 of Giving In

“Just leave,” she insists in a small voice.

Samuel steps away from Chris, although the latter doesn’t seem scared of him in the slightest. They’re just two beasts ready to jump at each other’s throat and Rose is the only thing keeping them from doing so.

“You keep hiding behind your rich friends Jake, mate. Don’t come begging when they throw you away.” He walks toward the door and turns one last time.“And you,” he says pointing at Rose. “I warned you what would happen if you didn’t listen.” He leaves and slams the door behind him.

“Wait–” Rose wriggles more in Jake’s arm. “Jake, put me the fuck down”

Jake finally lets go and she steps away from him, her gaze so dark she might as well annihilate him right this second.

“Fuck you,” she hisses at him, “and you too,” she continues pointing her tattooed arm to Luke.

Chris walks around the sofa toward the rest of the group as Rose keeps telling everyone a piece of her mind.

“I swear to fucking God, Chris, if he goes to the cops, you’re never seeing me again,” she spits at him.

“Ozy, you need to chill. You can’t differentiate us trying to help from us attacking you. What’s your problem?” Jake retorts annoyed.

She spins to her brother and points at him with an angry finger.

“My problem is you’re not my dad! None of you. You need to let me deal with him howeverIwant. Not how you guys think is best!”

“You don’t get rid of problems, you enhance them. It’s your thing,” Chris interjects. “If we weren’t here to fix your shit half the time, you’d probably be dead right now.”

“Ugh,” she throws her head back in frustration, “please, justpleasefor once have a little bit of faith in me. Sam is dangerous! You can’t just go around threatening him.”

“What are you doing here?” Chris suddenly asks.

It takes me a few seconds to realize he’s talking to me. They all turn around to face me and I suddenly am way too aware of being naked under Jake’s shirt.

Rose raises an eyebrow under her wire-thin, gold glasses. They’re big, round, almost geeky and it contrasts so much with her personality and looks that it makes her look like a model dressed up as a schoolgirl.

“I...uh…” are the only sounds I manage out of my mouth.

My gaze meets Jake’s and his eyes turn dark as he understands I was spying on them.

“Go to the room,” he orders coldly.

I don’t reply and simply take a step back. The need to be far enough to not feel his anger is too strong to fight back.

“And y’all think I’m the one who should be supervised,” Rose throws at them.

“Fuck off,” Jake’s voice now sounds closer to me and I hurry back to the room.

I close the door behind me, but it’s angrily re-opened right away. Jake storms in the room without a word. He goes to his closet, grabs my uniform from yesterday that I was looking for, and throws it at me.

“Get dressed. I’m taking you home.”

I’ve been wanting to hear these words since arriving here yesterday. I wanted to hear them when we were at the party, I wanted anything but having to follow him around his house like a lost puppy while he was partying with his friends. I wanted to get away when we started that stupid game, I was ready to walk home on my own at night when he walked Camila to her car. Now he’s finally saying it, finally letting me go.

Then why do I feel this horrible pinch in my heart?

It’s one thing to want to go, it’s another to be kicked out. Did he get what he wanted? He wanted to have his fun with me and Chris and now he’s throwing me away so he can go back to Camila?

Why do I care?Why does it hurt?

I quickly put my clothes on. When he turns around to put a tee on, I’m struck by a single tattoo between his shoulder blades. It’s the exact same one Rose has on her arm – among the tons of other ones covering her forearm – and that I saw on Samuel’s neck. That X with the crown on top, the W at the bottom, 19 on the left, and 33 on the right. Jake puts his shoes on and grabs his keys. He’s boiling with rage and I don’t want to take the risk to break the silence.

By the time we’re driving, I’m surprised his teeth haven’t shattered to pieces. His jaw is clenching so hard he could probably grind a rock into sand. When he turns onto my street, I finally dare say something.

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