Chapter 5
SPLASH!
The world disappears, my breath with it.
Cold takes over my body, everything muffling.
It takes me way too long to notice how shallow this fountain is. Gasping for air makes this so much more humiliating. My grip on the stone ledge helps pull myself to my feet, coughing to get out the water lodged in my throat.
Water pouring from my hair, my eyes dart around for him, ready to pull him into this filthy fountain with me.
But he’s gone.
Laughter erupts around me, phones all pointed my way.
Fuck. My phone!
My clothes stick to my body as I reach in the fountain for my tote bag. Pulling the phone out of my bag, it’s cracked but still works. Relief washes over me. But that fades when I realize how soaked my sketchpad is.
“You smell like a wet dog,” Hannah cackles, turning on those heels. With a flip of her hair, she saunters away from the fountain. “Do yourself a favour and run along home.”
Well,aren’t we off to a great start?
I’m late to class but I won”t look like a fish when I get there. I stand out enough and that fucker is trying to make it worse.
Pushing me into a fountain? Is that all he’s got?
I push the smirk forming on my face away as my socks squish against my skin. My shoes squeak against the polished wood as I search for the nearest bathroom. My appearance is even more of a mismatch for the opulence dripping from the hallways. Chandeliers hang from ornate ceilings, marble columns lining my path. Golden sconces aid in adding warmth to the cold, unwelcoming atmosphere.
I’ve hardly set foot into this massive place before Hannah and her pals made sure I know I don’t belong. It doesn’t help that students laugh and point, whispering to each other as my wet curls stick to my head.
“She’s still here.”
“What a loser.”
“She won’t last the day.”
“The bathroom is on your left when you go through those red doors.”
Wait. What?
My head whips towards the last voice.
The guy from the Sun House interview leans against the wall, his hands in a pair of pink pants. They match his hair. And his dress shirt. And his tie.
When he smiles, it’s not like the rest of them. It seems genuine like he’s actually trying to help. There’s no time to thank him as I push through the red doors, a weight lifting off my chest when I see the golden sign for the bathroom.
“Woah.” The bathroom is as over-the-top as the rest of this place. Gold-framed mirrors hang side by side, little lamps between them giving the room a soft glow. White roses sit on each marble sink, the smell of them in the air.
Standing in front of the mirror, it’s as bad as I thought. Pulling a fresh towel off a golden rod, I try to soak up the water drenching my hair and outfit. A glance at my phone makes my shoulders drop. I”m so fucking late.
The door creaks open, my body tensing. I really hope that’s not Hannah or her friends.
Click.
Turning towards the door, the towel drops from my hand.
“You shouldn’t be in here.” It’s hard to keep my voice from trembling but I still sound like an idiot. Of course, he doesn’t care where he is.
He doesn’t say a word, those iron eyes wandering my body. Heat hits me wherever they land. Like bullets.
He takes a step forward, I step back. Those eyes pierce into mine and that night comes rushing back to me. If he was capable of ruining our lives with a gun back then, the fountain was the least of my worries.
Another step forward.
Another step back.
“You idiot,” he chuckles, that deep voice vibrating through me. Those jawbones sharpen as my back hits the bathroom wall. “You shouldn’t be here, Ember.” How the fuck does he know my name? Has he always known? And why does it make my stomach flip when he says it? “It’s not good for you.”
“It’s not good for me?” I ask. “Or you?” He’s the one who ruined my life. He’s the one who ruined Jake’s future. Why the fuck should I be afraid?
“Don’t stick around to find out,” he growls, his hands landing on each side of my head.
He traps me, and that only ignites that fire in my core. “Try me.”
His brows lower, a smirk coming across his face. “You think stepping to Hannah makes you hot shit?” In a quick move, he grabs my wrist, raising them above my head before pinning them to the wall.
His breath brushes against my mouth. Mint and tobacco. Then a sharp pain comes to my lip.
His teeth sink into my skin and he doesn’t stop until I hiss. I try to pull away but there’s nowhere for me to go and he doesn’t let up until a pained sound escapes me.
“You’re a butterfly,” he says. “Fragile. I will cage you. I will snap your wings. I. Will. Break you.”
“You already have.” My lip stings when I speak, the taste of copper filling my mouth.
His hand releases one wrist before it comes to my neck. “Don’t make it worse.” He squeezes so tight my free hand comes to his wrist, begging him to let go. “I will make you beg. I will make you plead. Starting now.” I can’t breathe, my eyes widening as I succumb to his force again. A choking noise escapes me and that only makes him chuckle. He’s enjoying my pain, his grip tightening. “Do it. Plead.” His voice lands in my ear, goosebumps forming on my hot skin. “I can’t hear you.”
I can’t if I wanted to, the room dimming.
Why are you so weak?
The sound of my chokes get louder and hell, I’m starting to panic. It sounds like I’m gurgling a glass of water and that makes his grin widen. “There it is.”
It’s not supposed to be like this, seeing him again. I shot him. I got revenge. But I let him get away, and now, he’s stronger than ever.
Is this it? Is this the moment of revenge he’s waited for?
Bang!
A loud knock on the door is the only thing that gets him to loosen his grip, his head whipping to it. I don’t miss the way that sound makes his shoulders rise to his ears. Something we have in common.
“Ember?” Greta’s voice comes through the door. “Are you in here? I heard what happened.”
My hand comes to my neck when he releases me, my body collapsing against the wall as I try to catch my breath.
“What’s the matter?” he chides, his finger coming to my chin with a strike of lightning. When I try to pull back, he lifts my head until I’m staring into those soulless eyes. “If you can’t handle that, you won’t handle what else I have coming.” And with that, he turns towards the door, unlocking it with one last look over his shoulder. “Next time I see you, you’ll be making those sounds on my cock.”
Greta backs out of his way as he exits, like he’s a landslide ready to demolish her. It’s not until the door closes that I can finally breathe again.
Greta rushes towards me as I slide to the floor. “God, Ember, are you okay?” Her eyes dart around me as if she’s checking for scars. “Did he hurt you?”
My lip burns like a wasp left its stinger, and I can still feel his grip around my throat. “I’m fine.”
Her hand comes to my shoulder, another sting coming with it. “I told you to stay away from The Crown. Especially Mac.”
“He came after me.”
Greta reaches into her leather tote, pulling out a silky black scrunchie. She pulls my hair up, putting it in a bun. “What did you do? Is it because of Hannah?” Moving to the sink, she grabs another fresh towel from a golden-handled drawer. “I didn’t think he’d care since they broke up.”
My stomach twists. “He dated Hannah?” Why am I surprised? They’re meant for each other.
She pats at my outfit, wiping my face. “It was more of a situationship. She wanted commitment. He wanted to fuck.” Her last word doesn’t calm the churn in my gut as her fingers come to my neck, cold and gentler than Mac’s. She mumbles something as her eyes land on my lips. “Ember you’re bleeding,” she pats the towel at my mouth, making me wince. “And you’re bruised. What the hell did he do?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you convincing me or yourself?”
We both know the answer. Reaching into her bag, she pulls out a concealer several shades too light. She sticks her finger in, dabbing at my neck anyway.
“Dean Patel will lose her shit if she sees you like this. She’s looking for any reason to get you out of here and she already thinks you”re...” Greta stops herself from stating the obvious. She sighs, her fine-lined eyes meeting mine. “I’m not blind, Mac is as hot as a flaming comet, but he’s not worth it. Ignore him. For your own good.”
Opening my mouth, I hesitate to speak. If I tell Greta how I really know him, she’ll know I’m exactly what everyone here thinks I am.
“You’re here by the grace of my family,” she says. “Don’t fuck it up with a guy like that.”
Greta’s right.I won’t let Mac stop me.
It’s taken years to know his name and it’s taken everything in me not to search the internet to find everything I can about the boy who ruined my life.
But there’s no time for that.
I deserve to be here. He doesn’t.
I deserve to get back everything he’s taken away from me.
“Ember Everett?”
I’m almost at the art building when I’m stopped by a champagne coloured suit.
What now?
Looking up, an older woman peers over her gold-rimmed glasses, layers of pearls hanging off her neck. Her white turtleneck gives her a look that reeks of authority despite her red-painted lips.
“Present?” I respond.
The woman twists her nose, her eyes wandering my appearance. I know what she’s thinking. Greta helped clean me up but my clothes are still wet. Glancing at the clock behind her, my jaw clenches. Forty minutes. I’m already forty minutes late for my first class and this will make me later.
“How nice to finally you, I’m Dean Patel.” Shit. “Can you empty your bag?”
“My bag?” My head jolts back hearing her request, my damp bag hanging off my shoulder. “Why?”
“I got a call that a prized possession of a V-I-S is missing.” Her voice is louder than I’d like. It makes students lingering in the halls turn toward us. “As the dean and the person who approved your recommendation, you should do as I say.”
“A V-I-S?” Am I supposed to know what that means?
“A very important student.” She looks unimpressed with my lack of knowledge of Saint Bons terminology. “But it’s also a prized possession of the school. So it is school property.”
“And you think I took it?” Looking around, I let out a sigh. “Of course, you think I took it.”
“Listen, Miss Everett, I know how you got into this school many would give years of their life to be in.” Her voice doesn’t lower and once again, I’m the object of entertainment as students point their phones my way. “These students around you have paid good money?—”
“You mean Mommy and Daddy’s money,” I correct.
She twists her lips before speaking again. “Our students work hard to be here.”
The more I fight, the more suspicious I look. So, despite the humiliation, I swing my tote off my shoulder and offer it up. “Be my privileged guest.”
Her matching red-painted fingers stop before she reaches my bag and shit… I should keep myself in check. I’m already in hot water.
Don’t be stubborn.
She tips my bag upside down, and something tells me my comment is the influence. The contents of my bag clatter to the shining floor. Charcoal pencils, my soaked sketchpad, pens, my phone and…
Clank!
A golden medal.
My eyes widen.
How in the—fuck.
“It looks like my hunch was right.” She straightens up, picking it off the ground before dangling it in my face.
There’s a name etched into it, right under the engraved hockey puck.
Malcolm McKinsley.