21. Teach You Respect
21
Teach You Respect
The vibe between Ben and I was weird over the next few days. Not in a bad way, per se, but something had changed. I caught him sending me loaded glances, his eyes full of unsaid questions I didn’t know how to answer. Every touch we shared was heavy with unspoken secrets, and I swore I caught him checking out my ass once, though I chalked it up to wishful thinking.
Yeah, something had definitely changed. I just had no idea what that something was.
“Silas, come on. It’s late. Even Ms. Acker is packing up for the day,” Kim whined as she smoothed a flyaway curl back away from her sweaty face.
I currently shouldered an oddly shaped wooden structure used as the base of shrubbery, and the damn thing was heavy. “Yeah, yeah. I just have a few more pieces to take to storage,” I puffed, and Kim rolled her eyes.
“Well, Mom’s boyfriend is coming for dinner tonight for the first time, and I’m already late.”
“Just go, Kim.” I balanced the wood on my shoulders and braced it with my palms. “You don’t need to wait for me. I’ll head out before Acker locks me in.”
Already distracted by her phone, she waved absently. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”
“Good luck.”
She didn’t hear me.
After stacking the small pile of props in the storage area above the stage, I returned to the dark auditorium to retrieve my backpack. My phone chimed with a text from Ben, asking if I was done yet, and I shot a quick reply. His practice must have run late if he was still here at school.
I shut down the backstage lights, leaving me in semi-darkness, but I knew the stage like the back of my hand. It was easy to make my way to the exit in the dark. Most of the area was clear of props now anyway, and the glow from the far-off hallway illuminated enough to break through the thick shadows.
Tucking my phone into my pocket, I clicked off the final light and bent to pick up my book bag. Something heavy hit the stage, and I straightened, leaving my bag on the floor. Standing in the wings, I couldn’t see the dark stage, but I’d made sure that the auditorium was empty before I started shutting down the lights.
It was probably some freshmen fucking around, and I abandoned my bag, retracing my steps. Another thud echoed through the auditorium, and I ground my teeth. At this rate, whoever was blundering about would break something, and then I would be the one held responsible.
“Hey!” I barked, fighting through the curtains. “Go fuck your girlfriend somewhere else.”
There was no reply, and when I emerged from the curtains, the stage was deserted. The green exit lights shining from the back of the auditorium cast an eerie glow over the stage, and though I couldn’t make out much, I verified the empty room.
I’d scared them off. Good.
Turning back the way I’d come, I froze mid-step as a hulking shadow separated from the rest, blocking my way.
Then Eric Boyt said, “We have unfinished business, you and I.”
By the time my brain even told my muscles to move, I was already running in the opposite direction. Toward the darkness in the back of the stage. Toward the emergency exit tucked away beside the dressing rooms.
Moving on autopilot, I navigated the backstage blindly, jumping over bunched up cords and ducking under ropes and cables. I heard him behind me, heavy and cumbersome, and I told myself to just keep running. Just keep going. Oh, and not to trip.
I tripped.
On an old speaker or a piece of set that hadn’t been stored away yet; I didn’t know. All I did know was that my shin was screaming, and I was falling.
My momentum carried me forward, and I crashed into the floor with enough force that all the air whooshed out of my lungs. Gasping on the ground, I struggled to get my feet back under me, but then a heavy weight was pressing me back into the floor.
Boyt panted like an angry bull, and my sanity cracked along the edges.
Not again. Please, not again.
“Why are you running scared?” he asked, almost conversationally, as his knee dug into my spine. “I thought you were a big man, now. Walking around like some big shot after besting me? Oh wait, that was your pretty little boyfriend that saved your scrawny ass, wasn’t it? You didn’t do shit.”
“Fuck off,” I wheezed, pushing against the floor with all my strength. But he was too big. I was trapped again, and panic fuzzed out the edges of my vision.
No, Silas, focus!
Kim’s words replayed through my head, reminding me I wasn’t entirely alone in this area of the school.
“Acker!” I screamed, my cry cutting off as a meaty hand slammed over my mouth. He tasted like sweat and chalky powder, and I acted without thinking. I bit down on his hand. Hard. I didn’t let go until I tasted the copper tang of blood.
Eric bellowed in rage and pain, jerking his hand out of my mouth, and the movement shifted his weight on my back just enough that I was able to wriggle out from under him. Spitting his blood out of my mouth, I limped toward the dressing rooms, fueled by desperation and all-encompassing terror.
I saw the green glow of the exit light haloing the doorway to the corridor with the makeup stations, and hope and relief burst in my chest. But I should have known it was only a mirage. Because Fate enjoyed watching me suffer.
Fingers snagged the back of my shirt, yanking me back into a hard chest. This time, though, I didn’t freeze. This time, I fought like hell.
Because I was angry. I was scared—my God, was I scared—but I was so fucking angry. At the way he tried to take from me again. Like he deserved it. Like it was owed to him. Like I was nothing.
But I wasn’t nothing.
It probably wouldn’t matter in the end. Even if I fought, I wouldn’t win. I had a feeling we both knew that. I’d fight, and he’d win. And he’d take and he’d take and he’d take. But I’d be damned if I just laid there and let him.
My back met his chest. His exhale oomphed against my ear. Rage washed my vision in red, and I fought.
Thrashing and kicking, I struggled against his hold. I scratched and kicked like a wild animal, the taste of his blood still on my tongue. His grip slipped once, twice, three times. But every time I freed myself, he’d grab me again.
“Stop it,” he said, again and again, voice lowering with every repeat. “Stop it.”
But I wasn’t going to stop. I wasn’t going to let him take anything else from me. Not without a war.
There was pain, like he might have hit me a few times, but it was a detached sort of thing. I was blind to everything but the need to survive. Desperation and fury chased it away, fueling my crazed breakdown, until thick fingers circled my throat and squeezed .
Eric was talking, but I couldn’t hear the words over the rushing in my ears and pounding in my head. One of his thick arms circled me, pinning my arms as he literally lifted me off my feet. I kicked at air as his grip on my throat tightened.
“You just had to go and piss me off, didn’t you?” he seethed in my ear, spittle splattering against my neck. “Look at what you make me do! This is all your fault, you stupid bitch.”
The longer he rambled, the tighter his fingers seemed to squeeze. My toes scrabbled across the floor, searching for purchase as blinding terror threatened to black-out my vision. I could still breathe, I knew that somewhere in the back of my brain. I was breathing, but it felt like I was suffocating. It felt like he was strangling me.
“Should have taken your medicine,” he mumbled, and he didn’t even sound like himself anymore. “Should have learned your lesson. Now I have to teach you again.”
Somehow, through the mind-numbing terror, a tiny voice in the back of my head said, He’s not even talking to me.
“I’ll teach you respect,” he panted as his fingers pressed . “I’ll show you.”
And oh my God, he was going to kill me, wasn’t he? Eric Boyt was going to strangle me to death. He’d lost himself in whatever rage-fueled nightmare he was babbling about, and he was going to murder me in the backstage of my school’s auditorium.
An eerily calm clarity enveloped me, and I stopped struggling, a weak, “Eric!” escaping my lips.
And Eric fell silent, his fingers twitching around my throat. I’d never called him by his first name before, but it made him pause.
So I said, “Eric,” again, and his fingers loosened.
My throat twinged as I gasped for air, leaning my entire body weight on Boyt. He shouldered it, holding me up as I clung to his arm across my chest and sobbed.
“There you go,” he said. “Take a breath.”
It was a mockery of the way Ben helped me calm down and center myself during my panic attacks. Did he know? Or was it simply a cruel coincidence?
Eric patted my chest, fingers still framing my neck. “Have you learned your lesson?”
I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand any of this. My mind was fracturing, and I just wanted to live. I didn’t want to die here in the dark.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said, fingernails digging into his wrists. “You can stop this, Eric.”
“Have you learned your lesson?” he said again, and I released an impotent scream through clenched teeth.
“You’re crazy! Fuck you and your fucking lessons, you sociopath.”
He growled and manhandled me until my back met a wall, forcing whatever oxygen I’d managed to inhale out again. We were almost nose-to-nose as he loomed over me.
“Then I’ll teach you again,” he said, eyes black in the darkness.
With his hands on my shoulders, he shoved me down, and my knees buckled. I grabbed his thighs to catch myself, but the landing still jarred me, making my kneecaps ache.
His crotch was in my face, and my stomach clenched. He had to be joking.
“You’ll learn respect,” he mumbled as his fingers dropped to his zipper.
“Anything you put in my mouth, I will bite off,” I snarled, shoving away from him. But there was nowhere to go. He had me cornered, and his hand on the nape of my neck was a terrifying reminder of exactly what he was capable of.
“I don’t think Blondie will fare so well if you do that,” he said as he unbuttoned his jeans.
And just like that, everything changed.
“No,” I practically choked on the word.
No, not Ben. Not my Ben. He was innocent in all this. He was everything good and wonderful in this world, and he hadn’t asked for any of this. He’d saved me and protected me, and he would do it again because it was simply who he was.
If Eric went after him, he’d fight for me. But I didn’t think Ben would stand a chance.
He’d caught Eric off guard that day in the bathroom, and Eric had proven himself more than capable of creating the necessary circumstances to win whatever fucked up power struggle we were trapped in right now. He’d followed me here, after all, and waited until I was alone. He’d ensured that we wouldn’t be interrupted this time.
So, no, I wasn’t going to let him hurt Ben. Not if I could stop it. Ben had given enough. It had to be my turn.
“Leave him out of this,” I said, glaring up at Boyt. And just the fact that I was on my fucking knees for him made me want to scream. “This is between me and you. You don’t touch him.”
Apparently that was good enough for him. He smirked, but it was a rotting thing. It didn’t reach his eyes. They were empty, devoid of anything remotely human, and everything in me went ice cold.
I closed my eyes, searching for the anchor in my head tethering me to reality. I’d just unhook it, and I’d float away from here. I would go somewhere different, be someone else, if only for the time it took for this to be over. Ben would be safe, and that was all that mattered.
A zipper rasped.
Far away, I heard the echo of a leaking faucet. Drip. Drip. Drip.
Fingers curled around the back of my neck.
Impossibly, I was surrounded by cucumber fucking melon.
And then the faintest voice called out, “Silas?”
Acker. That was Acker’s voice.
I slammed back into myself, eyes flying open as Eric turned to look over his shoulder. I only had a split second to take advantage of the distraction. Mustering whatever courage I still possessed, I punched Eric in the groin as hard as I could.
He stumbled back and fell to one knee, grunting in pain, and I ran.
Ms. Acker called my name again, and I cried out, “I’m here!”
I staggered out onto the stage, searching the auditorium. Ms. Acker stood by the front row of seats, purse slung over one shoulder as she looked up from her watch.
“I thought you were still here. It’s so late, Silas. You need to go home.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, glancing over my shoulder as I crossed the stage.
Eric hadn’t followed me.
“I just need to grab my bag,” I said as I ducked into the wings and searched along the ground. “I’ll walk with you. Just give me a minute.”
“Okay,” she said.
When I finally found my bag, I hurried back onto the stage and took the stairs too fast. I nearly fell down them, but I caught myself on the handrail.
“Careful,” Ms. Acker scolded.
I gripped the straps of my backpack to hide the tremors, and as Acker and I headed to the parking lot, I tried not to check over my shoulder every few steps. Apparently, I failed because my theater teacher frowned, even copying me at one point, checking behind us even though she didn’t know why we should.
“Are you all right? You look a bit—Silas, you’re bleeding!”
“Huh?” I focused on her, trying to calm my breathing. “What?”
“Your mouth.” She reached for me but stopped herself at the last minute. “What happened?”
I wiped at my mouth, the back of my hand coming away smeared with Eric’s blood. “I tripped,” I said, the lie coming easier than I’d expected. “Bit the inside of my cheek.”
“You’re white as a sheet,” she said, and this time, she did touch me. Her hand closed around my arm, and I barely resisted the urge to jerk away.
“I need to go home. My dad’s waiting for me.” I half-turned but changed my mind. Facing her again, I stepped in and hugged her.
She made a strangled noise of surprise before she said, “Oh, I could get fired for this.”
“Thank you for coming to find me,” I said before I released her, spun on my heels, and sped down the hallway. She called after me, but I didn’t respond. I stared at the doors, willing my feet not to run.
The moment I was out of her sight, however, I took off like a bat out of hell. I flew through the doors, gasping as the cold air shocked my system. The chill made my raw throat ache, but I ignored it as I ran for my truck.
I’d forgotten about Ben, though. He stood at the nose of my truck, leaning his hip against it as he frowned down at his phone. The screen illuminated his beautiful face, and it made me want to cry.
He must have heard me coming, because he glanced up while I was still a few yards away. “About time. I’ve been waiting for—”
“Get in the truck,” I ordered hoarsely.
Bending down for his swim bag, he made a face. “I’ve been freezing my ass off for fifteen minutes, and now you’re in a hurry?”
I slammed my fist into the hood of the truck and shouted, “Get in the fucking truck!”
His entire demeanor changed, alarm widening his eyes as he scrambled into the passenger seat. He’d barely shut the door before I was gunning my engine and peeling out of the lot.
“Silas, what the hell?”
“Shut up,” I said, staring into my rear-view mirror.
“What is going on?”
“Stop talking, Ben,” I barked as I craned my neck over my shoulder to make sure he wasn’t following us.
“Silas—”
I rounded on him, white-knuckling the steering wheel. “I said, shut up!”
“Look out!”
A horn blared as headlights bathed the cab of my truck. Ben grabbed the wheel and jerked it hard, swerving us out of the lane of oncoming traffic. I slammed on the breaks, and the tires squealed as we came to a bone-crushing halt on the side of the road.
The other car kept going, laying on their horn the whole way.
“What the fuck” Ben shouted. “You almost killed us!”
I stared at my shaking hands, then at Ben’s terrified face. And then I burst into ugly tears.