Page 14 of Safe (King’s Heart #1)

Grant

He hasn’t smiled all day. He’s always fucking smiling.

That’s something to know about him—even though his life is absolute shit, his face never shows it.

Except today.

I should be happy. It means I’m a step closer to getting him the fuck out of here. But for some reason, I don’t fucking like it.

Not even Declan can crack a smile out of him during lunch. I know because I watch him the whole time.

The bell to end lunch rings, and even though my class is right next to the cafeteria, I find myself bolting out of my chair, ignoring all the calls from my friends asking me where the fuck I’m going.

My feet take me to his locker, where I stand far enough away to watch him as he switches his books out of his backpack. Each of his movements is miserable. Slow and tiring.

Good. Give up. Get the fuck out of here.

The urge creeps up again, surprising me. It’s never happened at school before. Not when the demon of my life wasn’t around.

A bad taste fills my mouth.

And I get fucking angry all over again.

See? This is why he needs to go. He’s changing things. Bringing things back. All it will take is for him to let slip some detail to anyone here, and then they’ll know.

Somehow they’ll know.

It’s okay. He’ll be gone soon. You’ll drive him out.

No one will know. No one can tell. No one sees. You’re safe.

I repeat it in my head, trying to make the feelings go away when a second string jackass, who I can’t remember the name of, pretends to fall into Landon.

The guy makes a very dramatic show of it, pinwheeling his arms and yelling “whoa” until he slams into the back of Landon, making him stumble and hit his locker.

Landon closes his eyes, taking a noticeable breath even from where I’m standing, but doesn’t give him any attention, continuing to dig in his locker.

Jackass doesn’t like that. He wants more of a reaction. I can see it in the way he claps Landon on the back and leans in, saying something that I can’t hear. Whispering to him. Being close to him. Touching him.

In an instant, I’m there, shoving him away. “Cap, what the fuck!?” Jackass yells while staggering backward. “You said you wanted us?—”

I cut him off, stepping up to him and crowding his space, leaving Landon at my back. “Only I touch him. No one else.”

He looks at me like I’m fucking insane, and he’s probably right, but he still raises his hands in surrender and backs away. “My bad,” he says apologetically before turning and scurrying away.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, I don’t need you to fight my battles,” Landon bites out.

I whip around, smacking his hand away. “What the fuck makes you think I’m fighting for you?” A smile stretches across my face as a weird mania starts pumping through my veins. I feel fucking high. Right on the edge of falling off a cliff. “I said, only I get to touch you.”

I put my hands on his chest, holding them there for just a moment. I try to ignore how hard his muscles feel. Despite that, every nerve ending sings, wishing I could feel his skin instead of the dumb blazers we have to wear.

And then, I push as hard as I can.

His back slams into the lockers, making a loud clanging throughout the busy hall. I can sense everyone stopping around us, circling to see what’s going to happen.

That mania builds. And it feels good, like a distraction, something to keep my mind away from this shit week and this shit life. It feels like something I need.

I throw my backpack on the ground and tear my blazer off. His face startles in front of me. He hasn’t moved from the crumpled position he landed in against the lockers.

“Fucking push me back, pet,” I yell, jumping around a bit, getting ready for a fight.

“Grant, stop.” It’s a quiet request. But there’s something wrong with it. It has the distinct taste of pity all around it. He’s fucking pitying me.

I just need to say the right words. That’s all.

I get closer to him. “Come on. You know you want to. I’m a fucking asshole. I make your life hell. I got your mom fired so she had to go back to kneeling?—”

I fly backward, hitting my ass on the ground. Everyone moves out of the way for me. But no one says a word. Not even a gasp is uttered.

“Yes!” I scramble up, pushing him back, but he’s ready and only stumbles a slight step back. It feels like electricity is shooting through me. “Wooo! Again! Let’s go!”

He shakes his head, his brow dipped in confusion. “What happened?” he says it more to himself than to me.

“Shut the fuck up and hit me!” It comes out shrill and pained, and it makes the pity grow in his eyes. “Make me fucking bleed! I deserve it!”

“Grant, stop.” He sounds so sad for me.

I hold my head.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This isn’t working.

“Mr. Moore! Mr. Caldwell! That’s enough.”

Everyone around us scatters, except for Dean Nelson.

He looks at me. “Mr. Caldwell, you better get to class.” Then turns his attention to Landon. “Mr. Moore, please come with me.”

Landon’s jaw drops as he looks around for some kind of support. “But he’s the one who?—”

Dean Nelson shakes his head. “No, Mr. Moore. It’s not about this. It’s about your mother. Please come with me.”