Page 66 of Deafened By Silence
“I had my doubts, but you were right, Clayton. Utterly heartless. Deal’s a deal,” Rhys says, sliding an off-white slip of paper into Clay’s pocket. Clay doesn’t respond, eyes still fixed on me, and my stomach twists as the reality of what’s happening sinks in. I’ve been deceived by both of them.
“Guess you win, Wavershit. Enjoy your consolation prize,” Clay mutters, and I feel something crack inside me, sharp and cold like a bolt straight through my chest. He turns and leaves, the darkness coiling around him like an old friend, leaving me standing in the hollow ache of my own disbelief. Tears spill over, uninvited and unstoppable, as the loss I wasn’t prepared to feel claws through me.
I storm forward but Rhys steps into my path. Rage boils over and I throw my fists into his chest, each strike a physical translation of the wrath ripping through my chest. He meets my force easily, pushing me back every time, my shrieks of frustration resounding against the walls, each shove louder than the last.
On the fourth, Rhys’s hands curl around my waist and pin me against the nearest wall, his grip bruising, his fingers biting through the cotton of my t-shirt. His teeth brush my jaw with the slightest hint of threat, a tension so palpable it makes my blood run hot and my chest tighten.
“You know violence gets me off,” he whispers, teasing me whilst twisting the knife further. “No matter how much I want to destroy you right now, if you hit me again, I will hate-fuck you against this wall and leave you writhing in a heap of pleasure on the floor. Then walk away for good.”
My stomach lurches, torn between revulsion and the smallest flicker of desire I refuse to acknowledge. Anger wars with fear, with the deep, shattering sense of helplessness I hadn’t felt in years. This isn’t about him, it’s not even about me. This is about Clay.
“You promised! You promised your revenge schemes wouldn’t hurt anyone. That you’d leave him alone.” I choke out, a sob catching in my throat. Rhys rumbles with laughter.
“Let’s not try to shift the blame here, Babygirl.” Rhys spins me around, using a hand on the back of my neck to force my face into the laptop screen. I can’t bear to look, my eyes scrunching tight. “I have to say, nicely done. A little harsh, even by my standards, but I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Me?!” I twist free, shoving Rhys a step away from me. I can’t think when his hands are on my body, his push and pull, hot and cold routine scrambling my thoughts. Rhys yawns and stretches indicating that he’s bored.
“Who else would have been able to get close enough to steal the bag of blood from my freezer?”
“You’re the one that took it!” I scoff so hard, it scratches my throat. He’s beyond ridiculous.
From the moment I stepped on campus, I’ve had no agency, no control over anything. Not Rhys, not Clay, not the chaos that has swallowed me whole. And now, in his twisted logic, I’m the puppet master? My fingers curl into fists, knuckles turning white, as my chest tightens with the need to reclaim what little I can.
“You’re the one who’s been waiting for a way to devastate him. What did you do, wiretap my phone?” Rhys’ tongue toys with his lip ring, considering me closely.
“Do I really look like I spend my evenings sitting around eavesdropping on conversations?” he drawls, and I hate how calm he is. How he won’t give me a straight answer, as if I don’t deserve one.
“No. You look like you chase deaf girls through the woods and beat them with a paddle. You look like you stalk me in the library and leave cute little notes that you’re always watching.You look like the kind of guy to pay someone to lock me in the dark and attack my hearing implants. You look like?—”
“Stop,” Rhys frowns, holding up a hand. “I haven’t done any of those things.”
“Yes, yes you did,” I nod, as if I can convince us both by nodding. “You attacked me in the woods, you…you hit me,” I choke out, the tears burning hotter. I thought I’d got past this, passing it off as some freshman fuckery, but Rhys’ eyes widen in confusion.
“Harper, I’ve never hit you. I watched you run off into the woods that night and then I left. I had to get the hog back before farmer Lee realized I’d borrowed it again.”
“But if it wasn’t you, then who?”
Our phones beep simultaneously. Rhys snatches his up first, jaw clenched, and I glance down. My own face is illuminated on his screen, my eyes staring beyond the camera as my mouth moves. “Rhys Waversea is nothing and he knows it,” repeats across the screen, cut, chopped and edited to play over and over. My stomach drops. I follow the gaze to the open laptop on the desk and the small red light blinking beside the built-in webcam. Someone’s watching, and they’ve made me into a gif.
Fury explodes from him, the phone slamming into the wall beside my head until the cracked screen splinters in his grip. His other hand moves to my neck, fingers tight enough to leave bruises, inked knuckles twitching with the restraint he barely maintains. Keeping my head held high and my expression neutral, I refuse to give him the satisfaction of my fear.
“If it’s not obvious, we’re done here,” I say evenly, and he knows I mean it. I won't play this game anymore. Every second with him upends my world and mocks my resolve. His moods, his words, and his arrogance have already stolen my chance at a fresh start. I won’t give him another second.
A tick beats through Rhys’s jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. His thumb drags across my bottom lip and the look in his eyes makes my pulse stutter. Lust and danger coil together in a way that’s almost unbearable. Flicking his gaze to his Rolex, Rhys gives a single nod.
“Yes, we are. An extra clause to Clayton’s deal, stall you for ten minutes and I’ll never have to see his face again. I’ve done my part.” Rhys releases me as quickly as he grabbed me, sauntering away as if I didn’t see the flicker of hurt in his blue eyes. His laughter ricochets through the auditorium, my heart slamming against my ribs. The pressure in my chest makes it hard to breathe, and suddenly I’m running. Bursting into the hallway, I refuse to overthink what I’m going to say or do. I just know that I need to stop him.
Stumbling through the corridors, I shove past a cluster of students clogging the doorway and sprint across the courtyard. Phones flash in my direction and heads swivel. The whispers quickly follow, no doubt the same gif reaching the entire campus by now. I’ve insulted their King, marking myself as enemy number one. I ignore them all for now.
All that matters is Clay believing I’d betray him. If I can make him see I’d never hurt him, even just for a second, maybe it won’t be too late. After everything we’ve shared, the mountains we’ve conquered, I won’t let him throw it all away on a lie.
McAllister Halls rises ahead, shadows pooling beneath its windows. I push inside, lungs burning, heart pleading. Scrambling up the five flights of stairs, mostly thanks to the use of the railing, I see a figure step out of the room halfway down the corridor. A pent-up breath escapes me, relief washing over me as I gain on the hooded figure. But as I near, I can tell merely from the body shape and size it’s not him. He’s too short, too skinny.
Kenneth turns to me with wide glistening eyes, his red hair poking out from beneath a hoodie that smells distinctly like Clay. Pointing to the made bed inside the open doorway, my heart breaks for the man I won’t see again. The one who has been saving me since before I knew I needed it.
Arms slide around me from behind, our joined misery feeding the void spreading through my chest. For a moment, I can close my eyes on an inhale and pretend he’s still here. Pretend I still have a chance to find out what he means to me. But Kenneth’s voice beside my ear shatters the charade, bringing me back to the present.
“He isn’t coming back, is he?”
I shake my head as tears begin to fall once again. I’d told Clay to own his pain. But now that I’m standing here looking at his empty open drawers, I feel like the biggest of hypocrites because there’s no owning this. No fixing this. Like his past, his future is now bleak and the reality is starting to dawn that now mine is too.