Page 11 of Beautiful Delusions

I’ve tried to read the contract, but every time, my throat constricts, my core flutters, and I become all too aware how easy it would be to say yes. Let them win. Let them have their way with me, and as clause twelve states, I would graduate with honors. Then what? I’m in the real world without having worked for my qualification, running the risk of losing my dream job. I slam the cabinet door closed and exhale. Why did they have to choose me?

Tossing my yellow gloves on the side, I stare out the window, watching students run ahead of the imminent bell. Everyone is so carefree. Their biggest worries are pop quizzes, and party outfits–menial drama. Then there’s me, whose worries are causing her hands to shake. I sigh, leaving the kitchen far behind. Exiting the building, I turn away from where my next lecture is and head back to my dorm. There’s no way I can focus whilst covered in grease and the smell of fajita Friday.

I re-emerge, showered, and scrubbed, in clothes which aren’t stained and wrinkled, opting for cargo-style sweatpants with large pockets on the thighs and a t-shirt which stops just short of my belly button. It’s one of my favorites, the motif of tea, books, and succulents representing me perfectly. Jazzie is standing against the hallway wall, giving me an approving look until I shrug on a thick, wool cardigan covered in frog faces.

If it wasn’t for the fact you’re running away from your own dorm, I’d be somewhat impressed.Her eyebrow tilts knowingly. I roll my eyes.

“I’m not running away,” I snort, swiftly walking for the stairwell. I simply want to avoid meeting the person who I’m supposedly sharing a room with, who only appears to return when I’m absent and who steals from me. Since I’m certain my eyeliner has recently disappeared, I’ve started counting my hair pins, keeping a mental inventory. My pencil pot and the photo frame displaying motivational quotes are tucked away safely under my bed. It’s not much in terms of personal effects, but that’s all I’ve got.

Keeping my head down, under the safety of everyone being in class, I explore the parts of campus I have yet to see. One place in particular has been catching my fancy, a place I dare not visit when occupied. I’m welcomed inside by a bubbly receptionist, the length of a swimming pool glistening beyond the glass wall at her back. Asking if I’d like a tour, I shake my head making her smile warmly.

“Take your time, look around. We have a state-of-the-art gym, a pool, and a sports arena. Many famous athletes come from Waversea and take great pride in returning to coach the next generation. Should you have any special interests, be sure to let me pass on your details.” I share the kind woman’s smile, although I have no idea why she would think I’m the sporty type. My woolen frog cardigan and glasses aren’t typically her clientele. Still, I take the offer to be nosey and have a look around.

Passing through a metal barrier, I'm surprised to see most of the equipment is occupied. Music pumps louder as I stroll further into the gym, the heavy footfalls of those on the treadmills beating in time. An even split of men and women aid each other to bench heavy-weight bars or repeat perfected routines of squats, burpees, and the likes.

Slipping between the rowing machines, bolstered by the fact no one has even noticed I am amongst their midst, I press a handto the glass wall. The pool below glistens invitingly, a mirror reflection of the high ceiling above with its rows of fluorescent lights. I can't hear the sound of water overlapping, but I can imagine it. Feel it. The momentary breaks of silence before plunging back beneath the surface again. I walk over to a nearby bench and sit to watch more closely. There's a woman swimming laps - her arms cutting through the water like knives and body glistening with perspiration beneath her swimsuit. She takes a deep breath at each wall before diving back in again, making small waves that lap against the floats separating the lanes. She's lost in her own world, finding the peace between the strenuous movements of her lean arms and legs.

Moving on from there, I wander into what appears to be an arena. I’m peering around in awe, distracted by the walkway of plaques honoring famous athletes who have trained here. Some faces are familiar, others not so much. I’ve almost stepped out into the center of the open space when the bouncing of a ball jolts me back to reality. Forcing myself to remain in the shadows of the bleachers, I swallow my gasp. All three brothers are here, in the midst of basketball training with the rest of their team. I recognize some from the first morning I awoke in Thorn Manor. I should turn and run before they see me, but Jazzie appears, sitting on the bleacher beside my head.

Remember what Kyan said, she smiles down at me, doing her best brooding man impression.Lucas loves a chase. If you run, he’ll see hunting you as part of the game.I shudder, shifting my gaze back to the court.

Yellow and black jerseys hang from their brawny bodies, the elongated armholes giving glimpses of their solid chests when they twist and duck side to side. Somehow, the baggy shorts add to the allure, their calves and biceps equally rippling with muscle. Sweat beads from their brows, slicking their hair but not at all dampening the lithe way they move. Surprisingly agilein Air Jordans, I soon realize it’s the three of them against all others.

Kyan bounces the ball between open legs for Ezra to retrieve on the other side. His messy blond hair is pulled back into a small bun, a smile on his face I’ve yet to see. Dribbling along the court, Lucas is waiting lazily beneath the net, examining his nails. A shrill whistle escapes Ezra, the ball leaving his hand one last time. Lucas jolts forward with the finesse of a large cat, pouncing to catch the ball and throw it in the same jump. It swivels the hoop, dropping south to declare their victory before Lucas has even landed.

His brothers are on him in an instant, scuffing up his hair, tickling, play fighting, laughing. The display rocks the perception I had of the controlling assholes, bringing a heavy dose of uncertainty with it. I shouldn’t be here, creeping around in the shadows. Within moments, the rest of the team dives on their backs, and it becomes a sweaty mosh pit of fist bump. Okay yeah, time to go. I slide my feet backward, not turning my back until I’m sure I’m out of sight.

“You’re not going to stay for the show, Feisty One?” Lucas yells over all the noise. Everyone else goes silent at my back and I freeze. “We were just about to all get naked and shower off. Wouldn’t you like to spy on that too?” The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I try to shrink into my cardigan. The open door is only a few meters away. This scenario is too similar to the morning I leaped up and ran from Lucas’ dining table. They’re fast, athletic, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the door.

Don’t do it, Jazzie warns. We both know what will happen. Like the lighting of a fuse starting a countdown, there’s no way I can outrun the inevitable explosion, but my body doesn’t get the memo. In the next breath, my sneaker has hit the ground and I’m speeding through the gym with my arms pumping.

Fear and adrenaline fill me as I bolt past the rowing machine, my heartbeat thumping in my ears. The music leaking through the speakers becomes my backing track, a fast-paced dance beat that muffles my panicked thoughts. My legs are like jelly as I push myself to move faster, darting between benches and equipment. As I reach the metal barrier, a single word screams through the chaos, "Sophia!"

I can't tell who the bellow came from and instinctively glance over my shoulder. My heart stops in my chest when I see the entire basketball team taking chase, with Lucas heading the parade. His strides are long and powerful, his eyes dark and predatory. But his smirk is the most unnerving, daring me to try and escape him.

Sweat trickles down my back. Behind, the basketball team yells for those nearby to grab me. I manage to evade a series of outstretched arms, clambering over a guy on a weight bench, too distracted by not choking himself with the bar to worry about me. My sneakers hit the ground and I make it out of the automatic sliding doors, ignoring the receptionist's confused stare.

Free of the air-con, the sun slams into me with such force, I’m disorientated and turn the wrong way. An open field of lush green spans towards the woods beyond, leaving me completely exposed with nowhere to hide. My only option is to run and not look back.

“Gorgeous place for a picnic, though,” Jazzie appears on the ground, raising a champagne flute. I run through the center of her picnic blanket, breaking the mirage in half. My legs protest with each step, my lungs screaming for a rest. The tree line ahead grows closer in time with the hollering behind growing louder. Tears stream from beneath my glasses, cutting a path toward the roaring in my ears. There’s a reason I didn’t take phys ed, and why I reserve exercise for those in the books I read.

Somehow, the shadow of the trees slips over my feet as I launch myself into the woods. Pine invades my senses, the terrain uneven and slowing my progress. Braving a look back, there are too many silhouettes breaching the forest. A scream locks in my throat as I stumble, scraping my knee on the bark-littered ground, but to my credit, I’m up and moving within seconds. I need help, a distraction.

“You rang?” Jazzie appears before me, walking backward in full outdoor attire. Two white sticks are clutched in her hands as if we’re going for a leisurely hike. I don’t let up my pace, keeping my focus on the trail she carves up ahead. Her mischievous laugh drowns out the shouting of my name, the pain blossoming at my knee. Adrenaline has taken over, as has my knack for hallucinating. I follow the worn path, trusting somewhere in the back of my muddled mind, this must be the right way. Either that, or I might happen upon a hidden cave beneath tree roots and can hide out like a hobbit until the Thorn Brothers have forgotten I exist.

By some miracle, civilization appears on the far side of the wood. A tarmac road, houses, and vehicles for me to hitch a ride and get the fuck out of dodge. A smile dares to stretch across my wind-beaten face, my legs starting to wobble as I hurdle over a final log and throw myself across an invisible finish line.

Pausing for only a moment, my hands rest on my thighs, the breath heaving through my chest burning too hot. Blinking to clear my foggy vision, a house sits on the other side of the road. No–not a house. A manor.

“What the fuck?!” I rasp. Jazzie crouches down so she can give me a solid thumbs up and a wink before she vanishes. My mouth drops open. That traitorous, two faced, slutty–

Arms wrap around my middle, easily lifting me from my feet. Kyan tosses me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing, while Lucas and Ezra share a grin. There’s no sign of exhaustionmarring their beautiful faces. Spotting a black SUV parked in the driveway, those chasing me from behind skid to a stop. The entire basketball team, barring their star players.

“Thanks for wearing her out for us, fellas,” Lucas chuckles, swatting my ass. Laughter fills my ears as I’m carried towards the manor, kicking and screaming. Catching hold of the doorway, my nails dig into the wood as I promise to violently kill every fucker standing outside on the lawn before Ezra closes the door and locks me inside.

“Haven’t you ever heard of consent?! Let me go, you fucking cu–” A gag ball is stuffed into my mouth and tied at the back of my head. I continue to scream through it, wrestling against the hands pinning my wrists behind my back. Lucas stands before me, his tanned skin, glistening green eyes, and easy smirk at odds with the monster I believe him to be. His auburn hair flicks forward, tickling my own forehead when he leans down to stare directly into my eyes.

“If memory recalls, it was you who sought us out in the gym.” His thumb traces my cheek, which hollows out as I try to screamthrough the gag. “No need to be shy about it, Feisty One. You’re curious. We gave you space to adjust this week, and you came straight back. So, I propose a test run. Let us show you what it could be like. Wake up here in the morning, and if you decide you really want to leave, we’ll return you back to the dorms.” I immediately cast a glance at Ezra, hanging back to watch. Lucas chuckles, sidestepping to consume my gaze once more.

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