Page 18 of Savage Rose

I don’t bother to point out that there’s no way they were the ones chasing me through the woods.

The last thing I need is for everyone to think I’m crazy.

Chapter 12

There is no repeat of yesterday’s race through the forest of fear at today’s practice. Not one to push my luck, I’d followed a whole group of runners out and stuck with them, even though they were moving at a slower pace than I usually go.

Better safe than sorry. Better slow with a pack of runners than hunted on my own. Because that’s what it’d felt like yesterday—like someone was hunting me down, playing with me before they swoop in and attack.

I don’t want to be a snitch, but … ugh. I stride up to Coach Lance once I get back from my run, not sure if I’ll say something to him about my experience yesterday.

“Hey, Coach?”

He looks up from a clipboard where he’d been making notes. “Good run today, Scarlett?”

“Um, yeah. It was fine. I wanted to ask you—” My eyes flick up, catching motion in my peripheral vision.

Off in the distance, the whole football team leisurely jogs in this direction, their practice over.Great.

Coach Lance frowns and follows my gaze. “Don’t let them bother you. Just a bunch of little boys hiding inside big muscle suits and padding.”

I clear my throat as they jog past. “No, of course not. They’re cool. I was just wondering if anyone else besides the cross-country team uses the trails for running—like during our practice times.”

The burly players run past, coated in sweat, grimy dirt, and grass stains. They push and shove at each other as they go—typical all-American football-player behavior. As Xander approaches, flanked by his buddies, the sweat coating my skin from my run feels cold, and I shiver involuntarily. He catches my eye and lifts a brow toward Coach as he passes by as if to say,You sure you want to do that?At least, that’s how I read it—though, it could just be because I’m having second thoughts about saying anything.What good will it do me?

“Certainly. Anyone could be out there from any team. They’re not exclusively ours, though we are the ones who are primarily out there. Is everything okay?”

Awesome.Yeah, I can’t say anything else. I’m ninety-nine percent sure it was just someone being stupid, pulling a prank. Most likely Xander, but who the hell knows. He could probably command any number of his minions to run after me and they would. And based on how he was so easily able to convince Ms. Murphy that he was “helping” with my Precalculus work, I’m sure no one thinks he can do any wrong. What good would it do me to call attention to any of this? It would cost me everything. Coach would contact the headmaster, who would contact Aunt Liz, and my ass will be yanked out of here so fast it’s not funny.

This is Xander’s world. We’re all just living here with him.

Fucking King of the Roses.

Slowly, I nod. “Yeah, totally. I just wondered.”

And the thing is, Xander’s probably got me all figured out. He’s not stupid. So here I am, an easy target for him—but why he’s bothering, I still have no idea.

Inside the locker room, I dodge a few girls dressing at their lockers, and grab my toiletries. With a quick look at my phone, I see I’m already running a bit later than I’d intended, but I can’t go to work without a quick shower first.

“Have a good run today, Scarlett?”

I turn to find Aria standing behind me in her bra and panties, combing through her wet hair, her shrewd eyes narrowed on me.She’d be prettier if she’d quit scowling.

“Sorry, what?”

“Your run.” She looks at me like I’m stupid and uses her fingers to mimic someone running. “That’s what you do, right? The whole reason why you’re at this school…”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m a little distracted. I’m late for work.” I give her a tight smile. “I’ve got to—” I point back to the showers before I hurry away, leaving her to watch me go.

I have no idea what that was all about. Imagine that, Queen Aria, deigning to speak to me? It actually gives me chills to wonder about her motivation.

Most of the showers are already in use, but I manage to find an open stall at the very end of the hall. I set my shampoo, conditioner, and soap inside, and leave the towel on the hook right outside my stall. Across from the showers is a row of mirrors, though what good they do, I have no idea, as they are perpetually fogged from the nonstop steam. I quickly strip and leave my sweaty shorts, T-shirt, and undergarments in a neat pile on the counter. Reaching inside the stall, I turn on the water, and finding it already warm, I step inside.

I’m in the middle of rinsing the conditioner out of my hair when the locker room becomes eerily silent. I guess I’m the last one in here.Damn my long hair.It’s such a pain to shampoo and condition, but there’s no chance I can get away without washing it after a long run.

I close my eyes and let the hot water stream over my hair and down my body. There’s something mentally cleansing about water. I know that sounds weird, but I try to keep my thoughts about my current circumstances in check as I go about my day. For the most part, I shove all thoughts down deep—being parentless, being a burden to my aunt, being in a new school—that is, until the water hits my face, and then all bets are off. Hot, fat tears roll down my cheeks, and I angrily swipe them away. I don’t like to show signs of weakness; I’ve always been this way, though I wish it could be different. My heart may be in tatters thinking about moving on without my mother, but I’m strong and have to remain so if I’m going to get through this year.Especially now.

A shuffling noise and then a weird, slow squeal has my eyes flying open, yanking me from my ruminations.

---