I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
He pushes me backward, his face contorting.
I stumble and hit a tree, and it’s the only thing that keeps me upright.
“You. Margo Wolfe. He hated you for how many years? Six?”
“Seven.”
“Seven.” He laughs.
Birds take off to our left, a great flurry of motion.
I flinch.
“He uses people,” Ian warns. “Whatever you think you feel… it’s a lie. A manipulation.”
I cross my arms over my chest. Maybe it’ll protect my heart from his words. “Why are you telling me this?”
His hand coasts over my jaw, his fingers gripping my chin and moving my face to the side. It’s painful, but I don’t make a peep.
His eyes latch on to the bite mark on my neck. It’s mostly faded—enough that I only put a light layer of concealer on it—but the makeup must’ve worn off.
“We were friends,” he says. “And then high school starts, and he becomes a lacrosse god. Once I filled my use, I was kicked to the curb.”
“You showed him,” I respond. “You stole his girlfriend. Had her cheat on him—”
“Fat lot of fucking good that did.”
“Your problem isn’t with me.” My voice is low. The fear is strangling me the closer he gets.
Heat pours off his body. He’s too close.
He laughs. He releases my chin, and I turn my face to the side. I don’t want to see whatever madness is on his face. His hand wraps around my throat.
“My problem is most certainly with you, Sheep.” He squeezes.
I keep my hands at my sides, but I meet his eyes. If his goal is to make me beg, he has another thing coming.
“You’re the key to getting back at Caleb. I think he may even love you.”
It’s hard to breathe. Swallow. Panic claws at me.
I can’t answer him. I won’t.
Caleb Asher does not love me.
“It’s a game to him,” I wheeze.
Ian frowns.
If he wasn’t a maniac, he might even be handsome. He sure got Amelie’s attention.
“Please,” I mumble, finally bringing my hands up to his wrist.
He grunts, releasing me, and I slide to the ground.
This seems familiar.
Déjà vu.
Ian squats next to me, grabbing my arm. He yanks it toward him, shoving my sleeve up. “Something to remember me by.”
He pulls out a permanent marker, biting the cap off, and writes a word across my forearm.
I watch in horror as he puts his teeth to my skin. He bites hard. The pain travels up my arm like an electric shock. It’s nothing like what Caleb has done to me. This is fear and disgust wrapped in one. I’m dirty. The need to step out of my own skin is almost overwhelming.
Tears flood my eyes. There’s an instant bruise forming just above my wrist bone.
It’s more violating than I would’ve thought. Than I could’ve guessed.
“Who do you hate worse?” I ask him. I can’t look at my arm, which has a pulse of its own. “Me or Caleb?”
Ian sighs. “I don’t like you,” he says. “But I hate Caleb Asher. And this… you’re the easier target. The button to push to make Caleb feel something other than self-righteous.” He lifts one shoulder. “Pity he wasn’t there to protect you this time.”
He stands, and something cold slides over his features.
I have an instant to prepare before his foot snaps forward, connecting with my stomach.
Pain and helplessness explode through me. He kicks me twice more, and I fall to the side.
I wrap my arms around my middle, moaning into the ground.
Ian’s foot pushes me flat onto my back. He leans over me, a scowl marring his face.
“I meant what I said before.” He raises his eyebrow, daring me to remember.
I don’t. There are so many awful things he’s said, that I’ve pushed out of my mind.
“You’re nothing, Sheep. A girl from a trash family. You’re so fucking out of place.”
He walks away. I watch him from my position on the ground, in a fetal position, until he disappears from view.
I spit on my arm, scrubbing at it furiously, but it’s permanent marker. It holds fast. I can’t even see the word through my tears.
My throat burns. My arm throbs. My stomach is on fire. I curl further into a ball, giving into the misery rattling around my chest. A sob bursts out of me, the tears falling faster. I can’t face Caleb now, or even Robert. I can’t walk into school like this.
My fingers dig into the dirt, into the already-fallen leaves, and I scream. It’s a poor way to try to expel my emotions. Dirt fills my mouth.
I pant and lie there and contemplate screaming again.
How long I’m here, I don’t know. My eyes close, and I just try to make myself breathe normally. In through my nose. Out through my mouth. Spit out the dirt. Inhale, exhale.
A branch snaps, and suddenly Caleb is there.
“What happened?”
I can’t move. My muscles are locked, stiff. My stomach is agony, and so is my throat. I couldn’t even pull down my sleeve to cover the evidence of Ian’s more noticeable cruelty.
Caleb tugs my wrists away from my body.
He takes in the tears on my cheeks, and God knows what else. I stare into his eyes. Maybe he’ll take the pain away for good. Set me free.
In one motion, I’m lifted into the air. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he pauses. His eyes focus on my forearm.
“Who?” he grits out.
I shake my head and try to climb higher. He drops my legs and fixes his hold. One of his hands touches the back of my head.
I wind my legs around his hips like an octopus.
Or a leech.
One of his arms slides lower, supporting me, and the other stays on the back of my head. He starts walking.
“Ian,” I whisper in his ear.
We’re chest to chest. His exhale is loud and sharp.
The growl reverberates between us.
“I’m going to kill him.” He turns his head, pressing a kiss to my temple. “He’ll pay for this, love.”
There’s something to be said about having my own personal monster. I know he’ll avenge me.
He puts me in his car. Tells me to stay. Locks me in and disappears back into the school.
Maybe he’ll go find Ian.
My mouth still tastes like blood; the coppery taste never quite left.
I focus on my knees. They’re a bit scraped up, but I don’t know when that happened. There’s dirt on my legs. The pantyhose we wear with our skirts, part of our uniform, are ripped on my calf. When I move, dirt falls from my shirt. My eyes keep filling with tears. I make fists out of my hands, my nails pinching my palms.
I blink furiously.
Caleb returns, tossing something into the backseat. He slides into the driver’s seat and looks over at me, then jerks back to the steering wheel. “Just hold on.”
We go to Eli’s house. Maybe it’s because Caleb doesn’t want me to see his parents and Eli’s are away—I don’t ask. I don’t really want to see his parents or go back to that house, either.
He comes around and opens my door, scooping me up. In silence, he carries me into the house and down to the basement. It’s vaguely familiar down here. There’s a couch and a television mounted to the wall, a bed in the far corner.