Chapter 3 – Marielle
“Hey, new girl, no need to run!” one of the girls who wouldn’t stop glaring at me in class called after me.
The teacher had barely stepped out of the class when I walked toward the door.
Contrary to what they clearly thought, I wasn’t scared of them. It was my second day as a transfer student, and they had a problem with me keeping to myself. The truth was that I’d rather move alone than join any stupid girls’ group for the sake of popularity.
“What can I do for you?” I asked, sighing exaggeratedly.
More shocked eyes landed on me.
“Eunice, did I hear this bitch right? Did she just talk to me?” the girl asked the brunette beside her, one of her minions, clearly.
“Met your match, baby,” a boy with a black buzz-cut remarked, chuckling.
Her renewed glare was nothing new to me. I had seen hundreds of them for hers to be remarkable in any way.
Turning around again, I left the class.
I went for my next class, grateful that it was the last period. The curious eyes always hovering made me tired without doing anything. I wanted to be at home, in my room, in my bed.
The history teacher was so animated that I actually enjoyed the class. Before I knew it, it was over.
I was in the locker room when I heard Miss Glare’s voice again.
“You think you’re special, don’t you? You think you’ve got guts, hm?” she questioned, stalking closer to my still-open locker, flanked by three of her minions.
They didn’t come here to talk this time. While I could be bold and daring, I wasn’t violent. I couldn’t throw a punch to save my life.
I swallowed, looking around.
“Trust me, no one’s coming to save your sorry ass,” one of the other girls proclaimed.
“Although I’d really like to know, why the hell did you transfer here?” Miss Glare asked.
“Right. In junior year, for that matter. Right in the middle of the term,” second minion added.
“She was probably caught sucking a teacher’s dick with that smart mouth,” the first minion taunted, making them all laugh.
“Well, let’s just warn her to know her place and get out of here. A teacher might be passing by,” the third minion spoke, her voice rushed.
“Shut up, Avery. And you’ll do exactly what I say, not what you think,” Miss Glare chided.
That served her right. There was always someone like the spineless girl in every group—and they were the ones I hated the most.
If you can’t deal with what they do, why join them in the first place?
Before I could think of escaping the room, Miss Glare’s attention was on me again.
“So, what was the reason? Were you really a teacher’s slut?”
Holding her gaze, I remained silent.
Regardless of whatever fight they had come here for, the reason I transferred was none of their business. I’d tell whoever I want to tell; I wouldn’t be forced.
The harshness of her slap shocked me. I lifted my hand to retaliate when one of her minions caught it. The second one held my other hand, rendering me practically immobile.
“How dare you?! Who on earth do you think you are?” she yelled, her blue eyes flashing.
“Who do you think you are?” I fired back, unsurprisingly earning another slap.
“I’m just about to show you.”
A proud smile appeared on her face.
Then she and her minions pounced on me at once. My twisting and turning were useless against them; they overpowered me.
As the hits came from every angle, my anger rose. Not at them, but at myself. It annoyed me that I couldn’t fight the tiny idiots off. Their blows and slaps weren’t so painful or hard; all they had were numbers.
“What the hell?!” a male voice sounded from somewhere behind me.
“And what the hell is your business?” Miss Glare asked.
“Let me see you touch her again. Any of you,” he dared, his voice sounding closer.
I expected them to disregard him and go on. I only had a tiny hope that he’d distract them again, and I’d take the chance to bolt.
But no other hit came.
I remained on the floor but turned around to see who this scary savior was.
It was the same guy who commented when she first called me.
“If I look up and find any of you here, I’ll assume you’re asking for it,” he uttered, looking down to fold his shirt sleeves.
In a second, it was just the two of us in the locker room.
“Do you need help getting up?”
He came to stand right in front of me.
“I’m fine,” I bit out, getting up, ignoring the lumps that were now forming on different spots on my body.
“Thank you,” I uttered as I shut my locker.
He chuckled as he left the locker room.
I struggled with a not-so-noticeable limp as I came out to the parking lot.
I could walk home, but considering my current condition, I opted for the bus.
A loud horn interrupted my thoughts.
Oh, no.
Out of all the days to pick me up from school, my mom chose today.
“Marielle! Get in!” she called from the front window.
I hadn’t settled in my seat when she asked, “What did you get yourself involved in this time? It’s just your first week, Marielle.”
“Is there really any point in asking?” my brother inquired.
While he was my least favorite person in the world, I agreed with him.
“Don’t think I was joking when I told you this is the last time I’ll have you transferred. Any more misbehavior, you’ll find yourself waiting on people in restaurants.”
“I didn’t misbehave. Some classmates cornered me and just started hitting me,” I defended.
“Am I supposed to believe you did nothing to bring it upon yourself?”
“I did nothing.”
“So, when they came at you, why didn’t you remove yourself from the place?”
“Run away? From girls my age?”
“Yes, Marielle. If they are not proper ladies, you behave as one. If they come at you tomorrow and the day after, what do you do?”
“Learn how to fight. That’s what I’ll do.”
“Are you joking?” she queried, turning to face me with a grimace.
“Actually, I didn’t think of it before now. I want to learn MMA, Mom.”
My brother snorted beside me.
“Tell me you’re not talking about mixed martial arts,” she replied.
I nodded in the affirmative.
“Marielle! Must you always be a thorn in our sides? Not even your brother is planning to learn martial arts. You’re a lady, for chrissakes,” she practically yelled.
Whenever she started her hysterics—which was every time—my perfect response was silence. This time was no exception.
As she went on, I thought of my rescuer. The guy who would become my first fight instructor.
I’d beg him if I had to.
At least until I found a gym where I could learn MMA.
***
The first thing I felt was the heaviness of my eyes. I couldn’t tell if I was awake or asleep, or if my body was moving or not.
Just as I slipped out of one dream-like memory, I slipped into another.
***
“So? What do you think?” Justin asked, smiling at me.
I dropped the half-empty glass of the drink he promised I’d like.
“It’s…nice. It feels strong, though,” I answered. “Not second date material.”
He chuckled.
“You said you like adventures. Just see this as one,” he urged, sliding the glass closer to me.
“Nope. I don’t just dive into anything in the name of being adventurous.”
“Alright, alright.”
He lifted his hands in mock surrender, making me smile.
“Come on, let’s dance.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
His hands were around my waist as we moved with several others on the makeshift dance floor. One song faded into another, and then another—a much slower one.
Justin brought his lips closer to mine. I didn’t step back as he kissed me, nor did I kiss back at first. I started kissing him back as his hand slid to my neck. His tongue swiped my lower lip, and I ended the kiss.
His charming smile was on his face again.
“What do you say we leave this place?”
Grateful he was sensitive enough to know I was getting uncomfortable, I nodded enthusiastically.
“Let’s go through here. The front is packed,” he told me, leading me out through the back door with an arm around my shoulder.
The early night was cooler when we got to the back alley.
Justin suddenly stopped moving.
Looking up at him with questioning eyes, I asked, “What?”
He pushed me backward, and my back hit the hard brick wall. There was that smooth smile again.
“You look so hot tonight, you know?” he rasped, his hand twirling a lock of my hair as he inclined his head toward mine.
“You said that already,” I pointed out, trying to mask my worry with a chuckle.
His leg forced its way between my legs, lifting the hem of my short dress even higher.
“What—”
“I want a taste of you. I’ve been a good boy all night, haven’t I?” he cut in, his hand landing on my breast through the soft material of my dress.
Alarms went off in my head.
Am I about to be raped?
Even typical date rape cases didn’t happen in public, did they?
“Justin, stop!”
His lips came over mine rather harshly as he squeezed my left breast hard, his lower body holding me against the wall.
No, this can’t happen to me.
I tore my lips away from his.
“I’ll scream!”
“From an alley behind a bar? You should be smarter than that.”
My heart beat multiplied, and I could almost taste danger on my tongue.
No, I’m not powerless.
Just as his hand slid the hem of my dress higher, I kneed him. I elbowed him as he staggered back.
Without thinking, I ran.
As my heartbeat eventually slowed in the back seat of the taxi, I thanked the powers that be that he didn’t know my address.
“Sure you’re alright, sweet? Looks like you had a bad night,” the older taxi man asked again.
“Bad doesn’t cut it,” I revealed, sighing. “Just my first college year, and this is happening already. I’m done dating.”
***
When I regained consciousness, I realized I was lying on something softer and warmer.
I opened my eyes to see that I was, indeed, on a large bed.
Where the hell am I?
The walls of the room were lined with heavy furniture, from large bookshelves to massive, ancient-looking tables. The velvet drapes framing the window and the gold accents made the large room look like a Gothic space.
Images of Lucien’s men being attacked flashed in my mind. I closed my eyes again, recalling my brief fight with those two men. I remembered the handkerchief they used to cover my nose.
They’d knocked me out.
I’ve been kidnapped.
I sat up slowly, taking note of the fact that my red dress was still on me.
Rising gingerly to my feet, I went straight to the window beside the bed. I rushed to the other window on the west wall when it didn’t open from the inside. Same thing. I tried the door; it was locked.
I sat on the edge of the bed, the heels of my palms on the silk sheets.
I have to escape.
I paced the length of the room, my mind unsettled.
I wasn’t a person of interest to kidnappers or whatever these guys are; I wasn’t a politician’s wife or kid. I wasn’t even popular in any sense, and I had no affiliations with any criminal group.
Could this have anything to do with going out with Lucien?
I almost missed the subtle click of the door.
This is my chance.
I skipped to the table just behind the door, gripping the flower vase like my life depended on it.
Actually, my life depends on it.
The doorknob turned, and the door opened. I didn’t see anyone until he took another step toward the bed.
He’s tall; I’ll have to jump.
Before he could turn around, I launched myself into the air, and the vase came crashing on the back of his head. Well, the bulky man crashed, too.
I ran out of the open door, my body colliding with another man.
Surprise.
I threw my hand, and he caught it. Throwing my head back with all the strength I could muster, I got his hands off me as he became unstable on his feet for a moment.
I only took a few steps on the wide hallway before he caught up with me. I twisted in his arms, my fingers digging into his skin, when another man appeared in front of me.
I landed a kick in his groin when he got close enough. He shouted, and the one holding me gave me a blow that sent me to the floor. A slap landed on my face, successfully splitting my lips, when I tried to get up.
As my palm pushed into the hardwood floor and I scrambled to stand again, another blow knocked me down. I felt tears sting my eyes, but I forced them back.
I’m not powerless.
I yelled, “What the fuck is it?! What do I have to do with you?!”
Panting, I tried to catch my breath. The men seemed to step away from me. Of course, my angry shout couldn’t be the reason.
The air seemed to shift as I saw a shadow emerge from the corridor.
Before I could blink, black shoes were just inches away from where my ass was sprawled.
I had to crane my neck more to see the face of the man who must be the boss; the energy he carried radiated power without him uttering a single word.
I recognized him immediately.
The creepy man from the art showcase.
He was dressed in almost the same way—a black tailored suit, a black shirt, and a black leather wristwatch. He had that same knowing look in his eyes. However, there was something more.
His gray-blue eyes were darker, icy. He looked far too comfortable to be a common criminal.
My eyes not leaving his, I asked, “Now what?”
His cold eyes shifted, like I just did something he hadn’t expected.
I went on, “Are you about to tell me what kind of psycho-kidnapping cult this is, or will I have to guess?”
His eyes flickered, still not leaving mine.
Yeah, I just sanctioned my death.
I braced myself for his reaction, refusing to show fear and look away.
Then, of all the things I expected, he flashed me a grin.
Am I imagining things, or is he really psycho?