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It’s onlythe thought of the knife nestled under my pillow that gives me the courage to leave for school. And it takes so much courage. I’m sure everyone can see there’s something wrong with me. A glowing stamp of victimhood on my forehead.

For the first five minutes, I hover outside the doors leading to my locker, sneaking occasional glances into the hallway. Not wanting to venture inside until I know Kincaid isn’t lurking in wait.

I’m so inwardly focused I lose track of my surroundings until a heavy finger taps on my shoulder. “Waiting for someone?”

I lurch forward, then wrap my arms across my chest before turning. Kincaid has one eyebrow raised, a smirk gracing his lips, and I force my gaze down to the ground. He touches my shoulder again, and it’s light enough that I barely feel it. I still jump, rattled, tugging at my hair until the pain soothes the worst of my anxiety.

“Hey,” he says, sounding concerned as he steers me into a recess beside the entrance doors, away from prying eyes. “Cool it with the nerves, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I give a despairing laugh. “No, you’ll leave that to your uncle.”

“How about you relax, and I’ll put in a good word?” Before I can protest, his arms envelop me in a bear hug, large palm stroking my back. “Shh,” he says as I whimper. “You can react however you want at home, but not here, okay?”

I go limp, waiting for him to release me. When he does, he adjusts my clothing and my hair, reclipping the pin in my fringe, tucking loose strands back into their bun, tugging the collar of my blouse until it’s symmetrical.

“That’s better. You look almost normal.” He chuckles, bending so the reverberations sink into the side of my scalp, setting my scalp buzzing.

Whatever equilibrium I achieved this morning is gone. I don’t know how to talk to this sexy, teasing giant.

When I glance around, students are looking our way. Maybe not openly, but they peer from their peripheral vision or sweep their eyes across. From their posture, I can tell which pairs and groups are whispering about us.

I can’t stand this sensation. Their focus. I’m unused to being the centre of everyone’s gossip. Ignored by everyone around me for so long, I don’t have the skillset to navigate the opposite.

“Are you coming inside?”

He guides me with a light hand on my lower back, standing by my locker while I grab what I need for my first few classes.

When I shut it, he leans in until my nostrils fill with his sultry spicy scent, head awash with everything he’s done. Everything he might still do. One hand rests on my shoulder and the other fishes in his jacket pocket, pulling out a jewellery box and thrusting it at me with an uncharacteristic lack of grace. “I went shopping last week and got you this.”

Last week. Back when I thought returning the shirt and phone meant we were done. I stare at the black velvet box, my skin buzzing.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Kincaid stares at me expectantly, a flash of vulnerability in his eyes.

Steeling myself, I gently flip up the hinged lid.

Inside is a bracelet. A ladybug pendant strung onto a delicate chain of white gold. The insect is fashioned from gemstones, rubies and onyx, with tiny diamonds for eyes.

I hold it up to the light, watching it catch and refract the rays, the shape and colour matching my favourite hairpins.

Sparkling. Beautiful.

A piece of jewellery I would happily select for myself if I were uber-wealthy.

“Here,” Kincaid says, balancing the books on top of the lockers to take it from my loose fingers. “Let me help you.”

The gold is chilly against my wrist but warms by the time he gets the tiny clasp fastened, inserting his brutish fingertip beneath the chain to check it’s not too tight.

“Should I take the box?”

I shake my head, snapping the lid closed with a satisfying clunk and storing it in my pocket. When I move my hand, the bracelet shifts on my wrist, and I grow hot at the thought I might lose the gift. It must be worth a fortune.

He rests his free hand lightly between my shoulder blades, giving me a small push to get me walking.

My mind is in freefall.

Kincaid has oscillated between kind and merciless, manipulating me for the better part of a fortnight. He’s twisted me inside out, knowing my body better than I do. Yet out of everything, the jewellery unsettles me the most.