Page 49 of The Pretty Savage

I couldn't walk through the main entrance if I wanted to stay out of the sight of other people. I couldn't explain exactly why I was in the building that housed most of our students at this time of the night, and I'd be damned if I gave anyone any kind of ammunition against me. While Andries couldn't give a damn if any of the instructors slept with the students, I cared, because showing them that Vega meant something to me would mean putting a target on her back.

And while I suspected that she put a target on my back, I didn't care. Not right now when the only thought that kept on repeating in my mind was getting to her. Seeing her. Touching her. Just inhaling her scent.

I walked toward the back of the building where the service entrance was—the one that was rarely ever used anymore—and using my master key, I pushed it open, finding myself surrounded by darkness. From my past excursions to this building and through this entrance, I recalled I was in a storage room of sorts, and pulling out my phone to illuminate the area, I realized I was right.

Shelves filled with toilet paper, towels, bed sheets, and other things lined the walls on the opposite side, with the door right across from me. I walked hurriedly toward the exit, opening it slowly and stepping out, observing my surroundings. But the first floor was deadly silent, and I hoped I wouldn't see anyone in the hallways as I climbed up.

I went toward the fire exit and took two steps at a time until I reached her floor. The door creaked loudly, making me wince momentarily as I peered outside, praying that most of the people were asleep or simply too ignorant to check what the noise was. Waiting for five minutes felt like spending an eternity standing here, waiting to see if anyone would come out, and when I realized that no one would, I rushed toward the apartment Vega was assigned to.

My hand wrapped around the door handle, testing it, and my lips pulled into a smile when I realized she had it locked from the inside.

My smart girl.

I pulled out my master key once again and unlocked the door, slowly entering inside and closing it behind me.

My breath hitched, my palms sweaty, when my eyes landed on her sleeping form sprawled on top of the blankets. The barely-there moonlight illuminated her face, giving me glimpses of those bruises I hated so much, but I had no one else to blame but myself. I wanted to apologize, to tell her I had to knock her out for her own good.

I wanted to tell her that some of the people in the crowd last night weren't students and that they followed our every move, and that her mouthing off at me could have some serious consequences.

But proper words failed me, as they apparently always did where she was concerned, and instead of explaining anything, I just made things worse. Right now I didn't want her to hate me.

Right now I wanted to sink into the bed right next to her, and hold her until all the demons in my mind quieted, leaving only the two of us, silencing the rest of the world. But I couldn't have that. I could never have her, that much I knew. There was no space for someone like her in my life, and I knew better than anyone what it meant having someone that was truly your weakness.

I couldn't do that to her, and I didn't want to do that to myself.

So this would have to be sufficient, these stolen looks and the bickering. The harsh words and forbidden touches. That would have to be enough to keep me going.

I walked slowly toward the sofa chair in the corner of her room, taking off my coat as I went and dropping it down onto the floor. She stirred in her sleep just as I sat down, placing my elbows on my knees, drinking her in like an addict.

I hated this version of myself, but I didn't want to stop. She was like the first ray of sunshine in my otherwise dark existence and I refused to let it go, even if it meant torturing myself like this. I could never have her, at least not in the way she wanted me to judging from those looks I saw when she allowed something else to flicker through those fascinating eyes. We were lying to ourselves, sinking deeper and deeper into this depravity, but I had a feeling she didn't want to stop.

Maybe it was sudden, maybe it was meant to be, but in two days this girl made me feel as if I had known her my entire life. Every time her eyes landed on mine it felt like a breath of fresh air. Like a drop of water after an eternity of drought, and I was tired of fighting against the things my heart wanted.

It was unhealthy, this little obsession of mine, but it was here to stay.

I didn't fail to notice the way she hovered over her friend, protecting her even when there was no imminent danger. I didn't fail to recognize the sacrifice she made when Yolanda's name was called, fighting a battle that wasn't hers to fight.

All of it should've put me off. It should've shown me that she was a little masochist, a little martyr, but all those things only made me levitate closer to her.

She was most probably my enemy.

She was a student here.

She wasn't for me.

Yet I wanted her regardless of the consequences.

I had no idea how long I sat there, as still as a statue, taking in her pretty face and her slender form, when she cried out, her voice breaking the silence of the night.

"No!" she bellowed, and I jumped to alert, my body ready for a fight. "Please," she sobbed. "Please don't." I inched closer to the bed, the urge to comfort her, to do anything just to stop her from crying out, riding me to the point of misery. "Please," she cried and cried and cried, until I could take it no more.

I shoved off my boots and climbed onto the bed, right behind her.

"No!" She thrashed on the bed, just as I pulled her closer to me.

"Shh," I murmured, rubbing my hands over her arms, holding her tightly. "I got you. You're okay. You're safe."

She whimpered in my arms, her entire body shaking as tears cascaded down her face.

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