Chapter Twenty Seven #2
“When I want your hands on me, you’ll know about it.
” I shove him back, ignoring the flare of desire in his eyes, and stride toward the rest of the group.
Clay reaches a hand out as I pass, his eyes narrowed on Rhys, but I raise my middle finger and keep walking.
I don’t need saving today. I need it to be lunchtime.
Peterson frowns as I fall into step beside him, but I keep my face forward.
The next room is dedicated to radiochemical analysis.
This time we are kept behind a barrier, only able to watch the scientist’s through reinforced glass.
Their movements are methodical, their focus unshakable.
I cling to Vikki’s words but my body betrays me, every nerve alert to the weight of a masculine presence hovering on the edges of vision.
They’re both close, pressing in but not disturbing.
I hate my body for responding, the fine hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, but I don’t let it show.
We file out of the room in silence, respectful distances being kept. I pretend not to notice how they bump shoulders trying to follow me into the elevator, not expecting them to be on their best behavior all of the time. Something has to give.
The top floor opens into a food hall, the sterile gleam replaced by the comforting smell of coffee and freshly baked bread. A section has been cordoned off for our group with a long table piled with sandwiches and cakes.
I barely register Rhys dropping in beside me, my focus on disconnecting the hearing loop and letting the room blur into the background.
Clay is quickly trapped in conversation with the redhead again, much to his irritation but at least he’s sitting opposite me.
Stacking a plate high with sandwiches and pastries, building a small fortress of carbs, an inked hand pushes a coffee cup in front of me.
“Shhhh,” Rhys says, pushing another sandwich into my mouth.
“Talk to me when you’re not hangry.” I scrunch my features up at him but keep eating, one rough tear of teeth on bread at a time.
Drawing my attention across the table, I latch onto parts of Clayton’s conversation, struggling to keep up with the clench of his jaw.
“Get - fuck - from me.”
“But…we made a deal,” the redhead replies, appearing to be on the verge of tears. “You promised – we’re friends - didn’t speak.”
“- deal wasn’t - leave me in - gay porno.”
Wait, that can’t be right. I must be way off my game.
Shaking my head, I spot Rhys stifling a laugh into a cinnamon roll, licking the icing from his lip ring.
My gaze lingers for a beat too long and it doesn’t go unnoticed.
Beneath the table, Clay’s foot tangles with mine, breaking the spell in the most Clayton way possible.
Gentle yet meaningful. What is it with these men mind-fucking me today.
Lunch finishes in a blur, two coffees in my system and a small food baby in my gut.
Peterson clears away his trash and rounds us all up for the next part of the tour.
I switch the hearing loop back on in time to hear Clayton talking to Vikki off to one side.
I don’t want to make it obvious, even though I should know better than to eavesdrop.
“-really quite brilliant,” Clay says. “I would keep her name on file if I were you.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” Vikki replies before taking the lead ahead of the group. I blink a few times, unable to clear my face of the surprise when Clay approaches.
“Everything okay?” he raises a brow. I bite my bottom lip.
“Yeah, yes. Ahh, sorry about earlier. I didn’t sleep well.” It’s a weak excuse but it’s all I’ve got. I can’t come out and say he’s half of the duo making me so crazy. Clay smiles as he falls into step.
“I get it. I rarely get a full night these days. Next time, drop me a message. Chances are I’m already awake.”
Opening my mouth to respond that I might just do that, Rhys cuts in front of us and I nearly run straight into his chest. “Or, next time you have trouble sleeping, you can wander over to mine and I can tire you out.”A snort escapes me and I push him aside.
“Ahh, but that would go against your one night only rule.” Moving on, we reconvene with the others on the third floor, entering a room that mirrors the lab back at school. Well, the lab before I blew it up. But I’m sure after the renovations are finished, it will be just as…clinical.
“Time for an experiment,” Vikki announces to us from behind a bench pre-set with perfectly arranged equipment. “What do you think would happen if we combined sugar and sulphuric acid?”
A few guesses fly around and more than a few snickers sound when it’s suggested that ‘the deaf girl’ can make anything explode.
I’m not too sure where it comes from, but my trusty meerkats sit upright at the comment, glaring in the general direction.
I don’t care either way, raising my hand high in the air.
“The carbon would cause the mixture to blacken and expand.”
Vikki smiles at me, seemingly pleased. “Exactly. Now, who would like to come up and try?”
The demonstration begins with Millie tipping sugar into the beaker already sitting inside the fume hood.
The liquid darkens, shifts to brown, then black.
The mixture bubbles into a grotesque sponge that claws its way above the rim.
Next, she adds hydrated copper sulphate, tipping it in carefully and as the mass retracts, the liquid blanching to white.
Steam hisses when Vikki flicks water onto the glass, and whilst more jokes are cracked about ducking for cover, I pull out my phone.
Something in the way Peterson is leaning forward, his eyes keen and watchful, tells me that this experiment might make an appearance in an upcoming pop quiz.
Even after the class begins drifting toward the exit, I circle back, snapping photos of the leftover solutions.
Five stars to Harper for finally committing herself to her studies.
Vikki’s voice drowns out as she walks too far out of the loop’s range, signaling I need to get a move on.
Just as I’m turning, the door slams shut and lights inside go out, plunging me in complete darkness.
What the hell? I rush forward, catching my hip on the edge of the table and cursing.
Pain blossoms instantly but I ignore it in favor of swiping my phone to turn on the flashlight.
Suddenly and silently, a body barrels into mine.
My phone skitters away, my back slamming onto the hard floor beneath whoever is pinning me down. Three guesses who it could be.
“Fuck’s sake Rhys, this isn’t the time!” I grunt, throwing my fists upwards to connect with his torso a few times before he manages to trap my arms beneath his knees either side of me.
He really thinks after all this time and everything we’ve been through that he can pull another hazing stunt on me?
Without holding back, I struggle and jerk with all my might.
He is easily dislodged a few times, scrambling to pin me back into place.
I’m starting to win, quickly learning his weak spots, until my hair is tugged so hard, my head is forced to the side.
“Okay this really isn’t funny anymore,” I snarl, white hot anger filling me. If Rhys thinks I find this sort of thing sexy, I’m going to show him just how wrong he is. Something cold brushes my cheek, metallic I reckon, working its way towards my ear. Locating my implant, my skull denotes.
I scream, my body arching against the unbearable shriek ricocheting through me.
He thrusts my head to the other side, pressing the device behind my ear and it happens again.
Tears stream down my face as I thrash, finally managing to break free.
My hands fly to my ears though it does nothing, the shrill static carving me apart from the inside out.
My voice breaks into pleas that beg for the agony to stop.
“Why would you do that to me?” I sob into the darkness.
The weight lifts from my body and I curl up into a ball, unable to think or react.
Barely able to breathe. Over and over, the high-pitched noise that feels like electricity crackling through my head bounces back and fro.
Writhing around on the floor, I scream for Clayton, then for anyone.
The dark envelopes me, and for longer than I want to know, I lie there completely alone in a world where only suffering exists.
Light brightens beyond my eyelids, a shadowed figure coming into view.
Even without being able to focus properly, I can tell whose strong arms collect me from the ground and pull me into his hard chest. Clay’s earthy scent mingles with my senses, my nails clawing into his arms as I come back to reality.
The pain ebbs away too slowly, my limbs remaining heavy and sluggish whilst we remain huddled together.
I feel the rumbles of his chest but I can’t hear or read his words.
More people surround us, their movements erratic and painful to look at.
Although, through my squinted blinks, there’s one person distinctively missing.
“Where is he?” I croak, peering up at Clayton’s face. He frowns, looking around and then realizing who I’m asking for.
“He went outside-” I don’t want around for the end of that sentence.
Pushing upright, my legs threaten to give out but the crowd separates, allowing me to stumble into the elevator.
I shrug off any attempts of support, being guided by more than just rage.
There’s sadness there, and a whole load of regret.
I truly thought Rhys’ threats were empty, that I was safe with him.
I let my guard down, and he struck where it would hurt me most. At the small chance of hearing I have left.
I stagger out of the elevator on the bottom floor, making a beeline for the Porsche still parked at an angle out front. Rhys is leaning against it, a cigarette in his hand and a smirk on his mouth.
“Hey Babygirl, couldn’t keep away from me,” he grins as I approach and punch him straight in the face.
“You’re a coward, Rhys Waversea. A fucking coward!
” I hit him a few more times before he straightens and grabs my wrists.
I can’t stop my legs from buckling, the migraine in my head and ringing in my eardrums all too much.
Rhys follows me down to the floor, softening the fall and holding me upright as I start to cry again.
“I hate you. I hate myself for giving you a chance.”
Trying to shove him away, I pitch forward and end up crying into his chest. I feel the vibrations of him talking, presumably to someone else because his fingers release me and seek out the patches of skin behind my ears.
I try to swatch him away but he’s strong.
Stronger than the person who was holding me down.
This thought causes me to falter, and in the next second I’m being scooped up and placed into his passenger seat. I don’t care to ask where we’re going, my headache talking over all reasoning and as the Porsche speeds into motion, my world goes dark once more.