Chapter Twenty Six #3
“So you were waiting here for him?” I half-shout, the sudden surge of anger tightening my chest again as I push myself upright. The motion sends a dull ache through my skull that I quickly shut down, gritting my teeth against it. “What the fuck were you thinking?!”
Meg doesn’t flinch. Instead, she slowly rises to square the silhouette of her shoulders.
“I thought that I’ve endured him once. I can take her place and do it again,” she replies, her voice unnervingly steady despite the insanity of what she’s suggesting. The spark of a growing fire ignites behind my ribs.
“That’s not an option,” I growl harshly, the response immediate. My hands curl into fists as I lean toward her. “You hear me? You do not put yourself in danger. Not for Laura, not for anyone.” Meg tilts her head upwards, defiance etched into her features.
“You don’t get to make that decision,” she replies.
“Yes, I do.” I bite out, the anger now mixing dangerously with the lingering panic still coiled in my chest.
“Why, because your parents want me to fake date you in front of the cameras? We’ve both just witnessed what the pressures of your public image are doing to you. At least my sacrifice would be meaningful.”
The words barely leave her mouth before my hand is moving, a decision I’m unaware of being made.
I catch her by the front of her pantsuit and haul her toward me, the sudden motion pulling a startled breath from her lips that collides with mine.
All of the sudden anger that is burning through me crashes my mouth onto hers.
My hand fists in the fabric at her waist, dragging her closer and spinning us to force her back against the railing. Her lips part in surprise and I take the opportunity immediately, claiming the space with a bruising insistence that feels dangerously close to losing control.
If she thinks she can throw her life away, then she’s about to feel exactly how much that idea infuriates me.
Meg makes a sound against my mouth, half gasp and half groan, and the vibration shoots straight through me like a spark hitting gasoline. Her fingers clutch at the front of my coat, gripping hard as though she’s deciding whether to shove me away or pull me closer. She chooses closer.
Her mouth pushes back against mine with a fierce heat that matches the hurricane in my veins.
Teeth catch against my lower lip, and the sharp sting only drives my tongue to push deeper inside her mouth.
The heat of her mouth and the violent certainty burning through my chest at the thought of her willingly walking back into danger is something I’m going to have to unpack later.
My hand slides up her back, fingers splaying between her shoulder blades as the rhythm of her heartbeat hammers through the thin layers of fabric between us.
Somewhere between the desire to take everything she’s willing to give me, a small voice in the back of my head sounds and I sigh against her mouth.
Dragging her face an inch away from mine, I put an end to this before we pass the point of no return.
“Your safety is not up for negotiation. Don’t make me put measures in place to see to that.” Despite me holding her face in my hands, Meg looks away, her gaze drifting back across the darkened field.
“Okay, Everest.” I open my mouth and then close it again.
My chest rises and falls slowly, the earlier panic now replaced by something equally uncomfortable.
I had been fully prepared for her to fight me on this, but I suppose we’re both emotionally exhausted by now.
Something has to give eventually, I’m just surprised it was from Meg.
“Good girl,” I settle on. Meg’s eyes swing back to mine, and I pull away before she can slap me for being patronizing.
Jerking my head towards the exit, there’s a huff and a second’s pause before she starts to follow.
I consider pushing it one step further and commenting on what a relief it is to know she can be obedient when she wants to be, but I keep that thought locked inside.
There are still reporters on campus, it wouldn’t be a good look to leave here sporting a black eye.
We leave the stadium without another word, the echo of what just happened lingering between us like the aftershock of a tornado that hasn’t fully cleared.
The air feels colder now, the adrenaline having drained from my system, the panic attack leaving a hollow fatigue in my bones, but I keep moving anyway.
Meg walks beside me, her heels clicking softly, and for once neither of us feels the need to fill the silence with barbed comments or forced bravado.
The vigil lights glow faintly in the distance, flickering between the trees like a ghostly reminder of the performance we’ve both escaped.
I deliberately steer us down the narrow maintenance paths that cut between the stadium and the academic buildings.
The last thing I need tonight is a round of probing questions from the reporters, faculty, and worse, my parents.