Chapter 42
R en
Ivy and the guard left about thirty minutes later, and I paced the rest of the time.
“I have to get out of here.”
Getting changed into my painting clothes, I grabbed my jacket and walked out the door.
Blake had texted that he was sorry, but he was running late and needed to go home before heading back to school.
So the art room was the next best place.
I hadn’t been in there to work on the painting I was doing of my mum since Blake’s overdose.
My world kept flipping, and I needed to feel grounded like I was still connected to everything I knew.
“Shit, of course, he’s here,” I mumbled under my breath as the elevator doors opened, and I spotted Nash talking to a guy I didn’t recognize.
I was tempted to ride back up so I wouldn’t have to deal with him again tonight, but he looked over, and I knew he saw me.
He’d have way too much fun poking at me if I went back upstairs to get away from him.
Walking across the foyer, I aimed for the front door and groaned as Nash broke off his conversation and met me just as I was about to open the door.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m heading outside. What does it look like I’m doing?” I pushed open the door and was hit with a blast of cold air, but it wasn’t completely dark yet, which was nice.
“I mean, where do you think you’re going alone,” Nash asked.
“I didn’t realize I was a prisoner,” I said as he fell into step beside me. “But if you must know, I’m heading to work on my painting.”
“Do I have to remind you what happened the last time you went somewhere alone?”
I stopped and took a swing at him in one fluid motion, but Nash caught my wrist before I could hit him. I glared into his eyes. “Don’t you dare say that to me.” I jerked my hand away from his grip. “You, of all people, don’t get to say shit like that to me.”
I didn’t expect Nash to back down. It wasn’t his style, but he narrowed his eyes at me, and I hated that he might be right. I considered Axel a one-off, but what if there were more people here on the property who wanted to hurt me? It still didn’t make what he said right.
“I’m not going to sugarcoat shit for you, Princess. We don’t know who the fuck you are, and until we can figure that out, we have no idea who might want to hurt you. Besides, I didn’t think I’d see you out of your room for a few days after that text.”
I glared at him, my blood pressure rising. “Do you ever hear yourself or think before you open your mouth? Like seriously.” I shook my head at his confused expression. “You’re impossible. Do you really think that Axel hurt me because of some outside threat we don’t know anything about?”
He shoved his hands into his pocket. “Not the only reason, but it certainly fits,” he said as I continued walking.
He sighed loudly. “Fine, I’m sorry that I said it like that. I didn’t mean you had it coming or anything. I just meant it’s dangerous, and we don’t know who our friends are right now.”
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “Honestly, Nash, I didn’t know we were friends. So, technically, I could be taking my life in my hands right now.”
“If I wanted to hurt you, I’ve had plenty of opportunities, including just letting you drown in the pool.”
“You’re unbelievable and a misogynistic ass turtle,” I muttered.
He snorted. “I can say with certainty I’ve never been called that before.” He smiled wide, and I swore in my head, hating that he could make my heart skip a beat.
“Well, you should be. You deserve that and worse.”
“Come now, Princess, that’s just hurtful.” He yanked open the door to Bowfield Hall. “I mean, do you remember all the fun we had the last time we were in the art room together?”
“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t fun, and if I remember correctly, I hit you that day, too,” I said as we wandered down the deserted hall. I hated how my shoes squeaked with every stride. There was something about it that sent a shiver down my spine.
“You really do like trying to hit me. Keep that up, and I’m going to think it’s your version of foreplay,” Nash said.
“Uh…you would.” I rolled my eyes as he laughed.
I flipped the light switch, and as soon as I did, I knew something wasn’t right. All of the easels were set up like always, in two perfect lines, but the one I used was empty.
“Please, please, please, don’t let there be anything else wrong. I can’t take anymore today.” Nash grabbed my arm before I could take another step.
“What is it? What’s wrong that I don’t see?”
“It’s not what I see. It’s what I don’t see.” I held my hand out toward the easel at the end of the row. “My piece is missing.”
He let go of my arm. “Oh, I thought it was something serious.”
I glared at Nash, a frustrated growl escaping me as I contemplated how much trouble I’d get in for murdering him.
“It is serious, and it’s important to me.
” I spun around and kept walking. “Never mind, you obviously don’t understand what that is like.
Actually…” I wheeled around on him, and he stopped with a breath of space before colliding with me.
“It would be like going to the pool and finding it drained. Got it?”
“Yeah, okay, I got it.”
I wasn’t sure if he did, but it didn’t matter. I needed to find out where Mrs. Frey put my painting. I really didn’t need this today. The last ten days had been some of the worst in my life, and considering the events of my mum's passing, that said it all.
Walking around the front of the easel, I stared at the empty wood frame like it would magically produce my work. The fluttery feeling was back in my chest, and I pushed it aside before taking a deep breath and looking around.
“Is this it?” Nash reached into the tall, green garbage bin, and with each inch that he pulled up, more of my heart was pulled out like it was an insignificant piece of trash.
I’d always been so strong, and now I felt like I cried all the time, but nothing was going to stop the tears as I stared at the mangled art.
Someone had broken the frame, but not before they slashed the canvas.
Food had been dumped on it, and what once was a piece I was proud of, meant to honor my mum, was destroyed.
“Who would be so….” I looked at Nash. “Vicky, it had to be Vicky, and that would mean…no, no, no.” I yanked open the drawer I kept my brushes and they were gone. I ran to the garbage bin and yanked out the large bag.
“What are you doing?”
I didn’t care if I had to scrub the floor with a toothbrush for this, but I flipped the bag upside down and dumped everything inside of it, and there they were…
my brushes. Dropping to my knees, I picked up the brushes that were snapped in two.
I didn’t care that my hands or clothes were covered in trash as I held them to my chest. The tears were flowing, but the anger was right at the surface, waiting to be used as a shield from any more pain. I glared up at Nash.
“What? Princess, they’re just brushes. You can make a new piece now that she’s gone.”
I pushed myself up off the floor and pushed him as hard as I could in the chest. “They’re not just brushes, and this is all your fault. Everything is your fault, and you don’t care. You walk around and act like I should suck it up, but this all started with you.”
“Me? I didn’t destroy your art,” Nash argued, and I pushed him again. “Stop that you’re getting garbage on me.”
“Good, it’s where you belong.”
“Watch it, Princess, or I’ll….”
“You’ll what?” I crossed my arms. “Push me down in the trash? Hit me? Oh, I know. Spank me again like I’m your insubordinate child? Fuck you, and fuck this place. I hate it here,” I yelled and stormed past him. He grabbed my arm, but I yanked it free. “Don’t touch me.”
“You don’t get to throw around an accusation like that and then stomp away. Explain to me how any of this is my fault.” He dropped what was left of my mum’s painting on top of the pile of dumped garbage, and my heart lurched as I stared at the strip of her eyes.
“Are you really that stupid?”
He growled and stepped into my personal space, but I didn’t back away. “I swear to fuck, if you weren’t with Myles….”
“Myles and Blake,” I countered and crossed my arms.
“What?”
“Yeah, you didn’t know? It’s official.”
“What the fuck? Why am I the last to know this shit lately?”
“Maybe because you’re too busy looking at the world with your head up your ass.”
I screamed as he grabbed me by the neck and pushed me up against the wall. A similar terror I felt with Axel rushed through my body like an ice bath. He pointed his finger at my face, and as scared as I was, I was tempted to bite it.
“Stop fucking insulting me. Respect, Princess. Learn it.” The rage that danced in his eyes showed just how close to the edge of insanity Nash liked to play, but I didn’t care right now. Maybe I would never care what happened to me again.
“News flash, Nash, respect is earned, not demanded.” His eyes narrowed as his hand tightened.
“I can say whatever you want me to, but I still wouldn’t mean it.
You want to know why this is your fault?
Fine. Let’s start with the stupid game of who can fuck me first?
You didn’t give a shit about me, or how it would hurt me, or what would happen if you pissed Vicky off by playing that game.
Did you ever stop to think for one second what I was going through being forced to come here?
” His eyes lost a degree of rage, his fingers loosening their hold.
“And then let’s see, you’ve pushed Vicky’s buttons at every turn, broke up with her by kissing me, and do you know what Axel said to me?
Huh? Want to know what he whispered in my ear as he pressed my face into the ground and raped me?
He said it was to teach you a lesson. Not Myles. You.”
Nash’s hand fell away as he stepped back until I could hardly make him out through the sheen of tears in my eyes.
“You walk around here and act invincible, the great King Nash and you know what, maybe you are untouchable, but those around you aren’t so lucky.
” A laugh trembled from my lips. “What’s ironically sad about that is that I think you do want to be a fair ruler, better than anyone else.
But do you know the sign of a great leader?
He knows how his actions affect those under him.
That’s what you’re missing. You don’t take a step back to see the bigger picture.
Then again maybe I’m wrong and you don’t care what happens in your wake. ”
I pointed to my destroyed painting. “I paint to help me cope and get through the loss of my mum, my father not wanting me, and being where I’m not wanted.
Maybe you don’t care about that, and yes, I could paint another, but that’s not the point.
I poured my heart into the painting of my mother, and Vicky destroyed it because of you.
She hates me because of you.” I pushed away from the wall and dared to step close to him.
“So yeah, I’m pissed off, Nash Collier, King of Wayward.
Fuck you, and fuck this place. If I never speak to you again, I will only be too lucky. ”
Turning, I marched away from him. “And don’t follow me,” I growled.
I was done. This place had beaten me, and I hated to lose, but I was taking it on the chin and throwing the white towel. I loved Myles, I really did, and my feelings for Blake were nearly as strong, but I couldn’t stay here. I just couldn’t. I was going home.