Chapter 35 Grayson Mercer
thirty-five
Grayson Mercer
Little Flower
“I didn’t cut her fucking hair, asshole! You both know when I taunt someone, I like there to be an audience. How do I benefit from this?” I ask, growling down the line as they continue to pester me.
“Then who the fuck is still at school with you guys? How did they have access to her room so easily?” Elliot spits, and I roll my eyes.
“Again, I don’t fucking know. After I left the cafeteria, I came back here and passed the fuck out, which we all know is odd for me considering I barely sleep. So now what?” I ask, lifting the blanket off of me and getting out of this god damn bed.
“She is feisty today,” Kade laughs, and I smirk.
“Good. Then it will make it the perfect day to annoy her,” I say, and he sighs.
“You’re not going to like this, but…” He trails off.
“Whoever it was… called her Little Flower,” he states, and the grip on my phone tightens.
“She’s terrified. I’m not sure this girl can withstand anything more today,” Elliot tells me, and I smile.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be the judge of that,” I reply, and before anything more can be said, I end the call, throwing the phone on my bed.
Someone was in her room last night and called her Little Flower, but how the fuck was I able to sleep so easily?
Were we drugged? No. That would mean someone knew I’d eat the cake.
That’s the only thing that’s predictable about my food choices.
I always eat that fucking cake, so this person knows my movements and food choices.
But why go after her is the question. This shit is grating on my last fucking nerve.
Walking over to my desk, I switch on my laptop and pull up the feed to the cameras around school, specifically the cafeteria.
Increasing the playback speed, I squint my eyes, looking for anything out of the norm throughout the day, but see nothing.
It’s not until twenty minutes before Rowyn arrives that I spot someone wearing a hoodie walking in and taking out a syringe.
He inserts whatever it is into each slice of cake, and when he turns, all I see is a black mask.
You motherfucker! Clicking over to another feed, I try to follow him to see where he goes, but there are only so many cameras, and I lose him. Fuck!
Slamming my fists against my desk, I slide my chair back and get up, grab my phone and hit Elliott's number.
“Yo!” he states.
“We were definitely fucking drugged! I’m heading to her room now!” I tell him and end the call. Grabbing a shirt, I throw it over my head, shove my feet into my sneakers and leave my room.
The walk to her dorm is quiet. Eerily silent. I get to her door and jiggle the knob, then start pounding on the door. I can hear her muffled sounds as my phone goes off in my pocket.
“I’m here, but she’s not answering,” I grit.
“Kick the door down. She’s having a panic attack! Elliot’s on the phone with her!” Kade yells, and I end the call, lifting my foot and kicking the door in. The wood splinters a bit, then swings open. I run in and grab Rowyn's face, she is looking red and purple from not fucking breathing.
“Come on, Rowyn. Fucking breathe!” I shout, shaking her, but she’s not responding. All I hear is the guys yelling through her phone, so I grab it and put it on speaker. “What do I do? She’s not responding,” I growl.
“Give her fucking air to breathe, bro!” Elliot screams. So I climb on top of her, pinch her nose, open her mouth and blow air into her lungs.
I watch her chest rise, but she still doesn’t come too.
Fuck! She is not dying today on my watch, so I rear my hand back and slap her across the face.
And still, it does nothing. Fucking hell.
Pressing my lips against hers, I push more air into her lungs, and she finally takes her own deep breath, choking a bit. Her body shakes, and her eyes snap open, and all I see is fear in her golden irises.
“It’s okay, Chunkers. Just breathe for me,” I say in a much softer tone.
She tries to sit up, so I move back to give her some space.
“Calm down that racing heart of yours. I promise I didn’t do this.
I’m not the one who hurt you,” I confess, as she takes another deep breath.
I climb off the bed and swing open Misti’s mini fridge, taking out a bottle of water.
Unscrewing the cap, I bring it to her lips, and she tilts her head, taking a sip.
“Good girl. Keep drinking,” I say, then go to her door and shut it.
I’ll have to call maintenance later to send someone out to fix it.
“T-thank you,” she stutters as I come and sit next to her on the bed but she moves away.
“Rowyn, I swear I wasn't anywhere near your room last night. I fell asleep and woke up to the guys calling me,” I state, and she narrows her eyes at me.
“You’re lying. Just admit it. This was punishment,” she spits.
“No, I’m not!” I growl.
“You—you fucking said I should’ve listened. It was you.” She points, her face getting redder and redder the madder she gets.
“I didn’t say shit!” I snap.
“You’re in my head!” she cries out, throwing the bottle at me. “You’re messing with me. All of you are—this is a game to you—” she says, gripping her shredded hair. She’s a fucking mess.
“Rowyn,” he growls, but I rip the phone from her grip and end the call. I want this moment with her. I can see it before she does.
“I can’t, I can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t–” she growls, and I go to reach for her but she pins me with a look that could kill.
“Don’t touch me. Matter of fact. Get out!
Get. The. Fuck. Out!” she screeches, but I don’t move an inch.
“I can’t breathe,” she wheezes, clutching at her throat.
“I can’t.” And I swear under my breath, concern clawing at me because I didn’t do this shit.
Her eyes snap to mine and they widen when she reads the look on my face.
“No!” she yells, shaking her head violently.
“No, no, no, no!” She screams, and I’m not sure what to do, but something inside me cracks and a small grin lifts my top lip while watching this girl losing her mind.
I take a step back, continuing to drag my gaze across her entire body.
The damage, the message. I didn’t do this.
But standing here, watching her break like this—it’s enthralling.
Even though I didn’t do it, and clearly someone else did. Does it matter anymore?
Her world is unraveling and I can’t help but smile and revel in her pain. But as my fists tighten at my sides, the realization hits me that I’m not the one who caused this, and that’s something I have a fucking problem with.