Chapter 20 – Clover
Chapter Twenty
Clover
He has no right to look at me with that stupid confused face.
I could take this fucked up flat weird baseball bat and mess him up again.
I know I got his torso good, probably putting a bruise over one of his dumb fucking tattoos.
He can see my hands flexing around the bat and he holds his own hands up.
“Clover. Stop. I’m sorry for what I did but I didn’t send you any emails.”
“Cut the shit, Thomas. You’re a smug ass sociopath. That’s why you brought up blackmail earlier. That’s why you kissed me. Now confess or I’ll hit you in the fucking shins.”
Even when he should be terrified, his face betrays no fear.
He cries out each time I wallop him with the bat, but he never backed down completely after each blow.
I’m not stupid. I know that without weapons, Thomas could easily overpower me, but that’s why I came prepared.
I don’t know if I’m prepared to bludgeon him to death, but he has a crazy fucking look in his eye like he could push me.
“I swear, I didn’t,” he says, his expression transforming from terrifying to calm and reassuring. He wants to show that he isn’t a threat, but I don’t trust the man I see in front of me. How could he do those things to me?
My heart feels like it’s jumping into my throat.
“I can prove it,” he says. “I’m not fucking with you. I can prove I didn’t send the emails.”
He takes a step towards me and I lose it. “Stay away from me!”
Thomas raises his hands again.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You already hurt me,” I snap.
“I didn’t mean to. I swear.”
“Really? So forcibly touching my vagina wasn’t supposed to hurt me?”
He winces, like I’m the one being crude and not the man running around putting his hand inside my panties.
“I didn’t think you would find out.”
See what I mean? Sociopath. Only in this sociopath’s eyes, I see something I like. For a moment, a flicker of fear registers on Thomas’ face. He’s not afraid of me wielding a bat and walloping his body, but something else about this conversation scares him.
“Is that an excuse?”
“No.”
“Ugh!”
“Please, Clover. Put down the bat. I want to talk.”
His voice. How the fuck did he disguise his voice? Thomas scares me and I don’t trust him. I don’t want to give up my only weapon.
“No.”
“Do it,” he says. “I promise I won’t hurt you. Never again. I swear it. Please.”
I don’t know what compels me to believe him this time. I swing the bat off my shoulder and rest it on the ground in front of me, folding my arms to keep showing Thomas that I mean business. He exhales once I release my weapon. Maybe he wasn’t as fearless as he looked.
“I know I hurt you.”
“So you’re admitting it!?”
I reach for the bat again but Thomas clears his throat. Right. Don’t beat him to a pulp. Not yet, at least.
“You get two minutes for me to hear you out,” I tell him.
At least he doesn’t waste any time.
“I’ve been getting emails threatening me about things from my past. Things that no one could possibly know. I went to Sylvia about it and thought perhaps this was connected to what happened to her room.”
“What did she say?”
“I dunno. She thinks I’m a piece of shit.”
I nod approvingly. Sylvia might just be onto something. I just don’t get how I connect to everything. I have nothing to do with Thomas. We’re working on a freaking Ethics project, not dating.
“Why would someone blackmail me? I have nothing to do with you and Sylvia or anything else about that… relationship.”
Thomas snaps, “There isn’t a me and Sylvia. We don’t have a relationship. We have a friendship.”
“I just meant that you’re friends.”
“Only friends,” Thomas urges. He stares at me even when he isn’t talking and I just have to act like his grey eyes don’t make me uncomfortable. They’re almost clear, they’re so grey and I’ve never seen anything like them before.
“Okay, I’ll tell you who’s sending me the emails,” he said. “Without looking.”
“You know who?”
Now I want to hit him with the bat again.
“Just the email address. No identity. Fuck, this is embarrassing. But are your messages from spicyfreak69@? I can show you what they’ve sent to me.”
It’s the same person. I don’t want to believe Thomas.
He just confessed to holding me down and hurting me.
He still hasn’t explained why the hell he kissed me in the library and he definitely hasn’t given me enough information about why anyone would blackmail him, blackmail me or vandalize Sylvia’s room.
“They are, aren’t they,” he says when I take too long to answer. Thomas might be annoying and he’s definitely evil, but he isn’t an idiot. There’s no point in trying to keep this from him since he already figured it out. I nod.
“What dirt do they have on you?” He asks.
I roll my eyes. “Why the fuck would I tell a panty stealing rapist that?”
“I did not rape you,” he snaps. “I wouldn’t. And… I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry, okay”
“Why did you do it? Just explain that. Girls at this school all want to date you.”
“I don’t want to date them.”
He folds his arms and something about seeing Thomas get all sassy both amuses me and pisses me off a little bit.
“So you’re God’s gift to Fox but you have to stoop so low as to assault me?”
“I swear, I didn’t mean to, Clover. I just get a bit fucked with girls.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t crush. I obsess.”
I snicker. Okay. This is the part where the rowing team comes out and makes my life a living hell right?
Not only can I not believe that I struck a few solid blows on a guy twice my size, but now Thomas Bainbridge tells me that he has a crush on me?
My heart feels like it’s twerking to the latest Latto track.
I obsess.
“You don’t have a crush on me.”
“Okay.”
That’s it?
“We should work together,” he says. “I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”
“You’re the only person who actually hurt me. This person just sent emails.”
“That counts as verbal abuse.”
Then I laugh. Verbal abuse? Sure, the email pissed me off, especially because I thought it came from Thomas, but it was nothing compared to the comments on the channel growing up.
Millions of people criticized me in the roughest language you can think of from the day mama uploaded her birthing livestream to my last upload on the channel — the Why I’m Leaving video my parents forced me to film so I could finally break free.
“What’s so funny?” Thomas grumbles.
“Nothing. It’s just. It’s an email. What you did hurt me more.”
“Sorry.”
“Yeah.”
Before I know what’s happening, Thomas closes the distance between us and grabs my wrist. I give him a bewildered look and attempt to get away from him but he just pulls me against his chest.
“You didn’t mind the kiss,” he murmurs as his eyes bore into me. “I felt your lips and I know you didn’t hate it. So yes, I’m fucked for what I did, but I very much meant to kiss you.”
“Why do you want to kiss a girl who hates you?”
“Because,” he whispers. “She’s very fucking pretty and very fucking good with a cricket bat.”
Cricket? What the hell is that? Before I can ask, Thomas presses a finger to my lips.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “But I should go. We’ll talk about the emails. Later. Be careful out there.”
Later? I don’t have time for later… I get ready to tell him as much.
Before I can protest, Thomas leans forward and kisses me. It’s better than our first kiss and I don’t fight back, I just let him kiss me. What the fuck am I doing? When he pulls away and leaves the tennis courts, I can’t stop staring at him. He’s enormous. He’s terrifying.
He is such a good fucking kisser.
* * *