Page 8 of Blurred Lines

“I’m not doing this with you today. I know she’s here and I’m not leaving until I see her.” Of course, I don’t tell him how badly I need to check that she’s okay. I don’t even care if she’s sleeping and can’t talk, I just need to see with my own eyes that she’s alive and well. Is that too much to ask for?

“No.” That’s it. One measly, growled out syllable is his only response.

Well, I’m not fucking accepting it today.

Too furious and worried about my friend to really consider the repercussions of my actions, I step closer to him, taking in every detail of his menacing expression and using the knowledge to construct my own pissed off glare.

“Where is she?”

“Fuck off, Emilia. You can see her later.”

It takes everything in me not to slap him, and he knows it, as his gaze drops to where my fingers twitch at my side, longing to feel the sting of his cheek beneath them.

A haughty smirk lifts one side of his lip, knowing damn well I won’t act on my desire to smack the smug look right off his arrogant face.

“So help me, I will castrate you, if you don’t let me in to see her.” I hiss out the words, meaning every single one of them—although, I don’t even have big enough ovaries to slap him, so I’ve no idea how I’d pull that one off.

He rolls his eyes like I’m being melodramatic. “She’s resting.”

Gritting my teeth, I try to let the anger drain out of me somewhat. “I want to see her. I need to know she’s okay.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh, and I know he’s had enough of me for one day—probably for the rest of the semester. “She’s fine.”

I scoff. “Like I’m going to take your word for it.”

His face turns to stone, and I can see him gearing up for a comeback that will either knock me back a step or further heighten my hatred for him. Or both. But, there’s a flicker of movement over his shoulder, and standing on my tip-toes, I spot Hadley standing in the corridor behind him, looking way too fucking skinny and haggard. One thing is for fucking sure, despite what Hawk insisted, she isnotfucking fine.

“Oh my god.” No longer giving a damn about the brute standing in front of me, I shove my way past him, only having eyes for my best friend as I pull her into what is probably a suffocating hug. I’m squeezing her too tight, I know I am, but I just can’t stop. I can feel her standing tense in my arms for a second before she relaxes, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s been through in the last couple of weeks.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” I cry, tears building in my eyes.

When I pull back, inspecting her, I gasp. She’s covered in cuts and bruises, and it’s more than obvious she’s been through something horrendous.

“What happened to you? Where have you been?”

It takes her a while, but eventually Hadley opens up to me, speaking her truth, and I swear, by the time she’s done, my jaw is on the floor and my eyes must be the size of saucers. Kidnapping. Mercenaries. Compounds where they train children to become killers. It’s like something out of a movie, or what you’d read about in books.

When she mentions Michael’s involvement, I lose all sense of calm. That colossal shitstain. How the fuck could he do something like that? And why? Because he was angry at Hadley? Because he had a crush on her that wasn’t reciprocated? It takes a seriously disturbed person to do what he did, and I can’t believe I’ve been friends with him for four years and never once suspected he could be capable of such a thing.

One thing is for sure, I am fully on board with planGet Revenge on Michael.

Chapter 4

I’m standing beside Hadley, her hand clasped in mine as the guys all circle Michael like vultures, waiting to dive in for the kill. I don’t have an ounce of sympathy for him as he begs and pleads, but when his eyes land on mine and he takes a step toward me, I stiffen.

“Emilia,” he pleads, taking another step in my direction, arms outstretched as if to latch on to me. “Don’t listen to them. They’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t do anything.” I’m about to take a step back, not wanting his vile hands anywhere near me, when Hawk’s voice penetrates the air, and Michael is ripped away from me.

“Don’t fucking touch her either. Emilia’s one of us. She’s not going to fall for your pathetic act.”

His words have my mouth dropping open.I’mone of them? I never...I’m Hadley’s friend, and sure,sheis one of them, but I never thought I was, or ever would be. And to hear those words coming from Hawk’s mouth no less? I must have entered the twilight zone. I could wrap my head around it easier if it had been Mason, or one of the others who had said it, but Hawk? We fucking hate each other. It was literally only this morning that he was looming over me, telling me to fuck off...and now I’m one of them? Jeez, talk about mixed signals.

Hawk’s fist flies into Michael’s face, and I watch, enraptured, completely captivated by the finely tuned machine that is Hawk’s body as he pours out all his rage. I can see the muscles along his back flexing under his shirt every time he draws his arm back, followed by the satisfying howl of Michael crying out as he throws everything he’s got into each punch. There’s no denying Hawk is drop dead gorgeous. Heisa Prince after all. And the most alluring one at that. The dark shadows in his eyes and stony expression both terrify and entrance me. Kinda like that overwhelming need you get when you look into a fire. Part of you wants to reach out and touch it, even though you know it’ll burn. Hawk would destroy me, but there’s a tiny little voice in my head that occasionally whispers, “do it.” What’s most disturbing is that, sometimes, I want to listen to her.

The guys all take their turn beating on Michael until he’s an unconscious, curled up ball on the ground. When Mason and Wilder drag him to his feet, hauling him through the forest, the rest of us follow. I’m still in a daze, replaying their punches on repeat in my head, that I don’t even realize we’ve made it back to the guys’ dorm until the bright lights of the kitchen penetrate my thoughts.

I can feel the lightness in the air, see the weight lifting off their shoulders as Hadley collapses on the couch and the guys all move around the kitchen. No one says anything about tonight. None of us need to. What’s done is done. Now that the problem has been taken care of, exhaustion is seeping into Hadley’s bones, and I watch as her eyes droop.

“I’m gonna go,” I say to her, smiling softly.

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