Page 19

Chapter seventeen

Forest

T he uniform for Defense Class is an oversized gray shirt and soft black pants meant to maximize our comfort when working in hand-to-hand combat. This is one of the few classes I have without my brother or friends, leaving me exposed and alone. I’ve managed to find a spot on the farthest wall away from my classmates in an effort to avoid Colton and Josh’s malicious stares. The pure thrill those two get from dragging Unfortunates across the mats as they spar is hard to watch.

Keeping my stare forward toward the constant movement around me is all I can do, hiding each wince as another Untouchable’s back meets the floor. A few Officials linger around, waiting to use their prods on anyone but our people. I try my best to avoid contact with them, keeping my head held high to luck out on a partnership, hopefully.

“They're looking at you like you’re their next meal,” Fallan whispers silently.

I turn my head to meet his stoic expression. His back is facing away from the group as he wraps his knuckles, bracing his hands for the hard work that I’m sure he’ll be off to after classes this afternoon. He’s quiet enough to avoid any looks in his direction while he engages me.

I watch him work the gauze around his knuckles, observing how his arms move. He focuses on his large hands. The gray shirt, unlike on me, fits him nicely, clinging to a build I’d rather not challenge one-on-one. As he continues to move, his shirt rides up, revealing his weathered back and enticing abs.

“My eyes are up here,” Fallan says in a snap, forcing my gaze back to his face.

I can feel my cheeks fill with heat at the comment, only growing redder once I realize how little amusement he’s gotten from me ogling him. He pulls down his shirt, hiding the parts of him I allowed my eyes to explore.

“Who’s looking at me like a meal?” I question, keeping my head down as I speak.

"The two idiots dragging my people over the mat like they’re nothing,” Fallan says, finishing up the gauze around his hands.

I see Josh and Colton’s presence isn’t just a nuisance to me, then.

“Trust me, their existence is less than pleasant for me, too,” I sigh, pulling my head back up to meet the smirk that’s found Fallan’s face. It fades as quickly as it came, leaving me questioning if it was even there to begin with.

“You’re finally starting to see how I feel,” Fallan says, returning to his typical snarky demeanor.

The sweet smell of vanilla hits my nose, followed by a flash of blonde hair swaying in my vision. His blonde whore, Valerie, slides next to him, running her hands over his own with a look of satisfaction. I watch her hand reach under his shirt, gently caressing the skin above the waistline of his pants before pressing her lips to his arm. I roll my eyes at the exchange, knowing she had only requested they be sparring partners to get as close to him as possible. Her eyes flick up to me as I mock her over-the-top need to be all over him.

“Is there something I can do to make you happier?” she questions toward me in a sincere tone, grinding her teeth as she tries to stomach a genuinely kind response to my aggravated state. It’s the most standard question an Unfortunate can ask, yet she’s made it so backhanded.

I look at Fallan, watching him gently move her hands away from beneath his shirt as he stares down at her with a smile. He rubs the tops of her wrists with his thumbs, calming her down. His hands are familiar with her body. A rare and genuine smile encapsulates his face. I feel something deep within me fill with annoyance when I see his smile drop the minute he looks back at me.

“Get a room. Not everyone likes watching you be a slut,” I hiss, pushing myself away from the wall, allowing all of my frustrations to pour out of me in a single statement. I grab my blade from the rack, strapping it to my side, leaving her gawking at me with a pitiful excuse of a confused expression. I don’t even try to look at Fallan, only letting my shoulder hit him as hard as possible as I make my way closer to the mats.

“Markswood, Danvers! On the mats, now!” our teacher calls out, forcing Fallan and Valerie out of their insufferable moment together.

Valerie sulks to their designated mat, giving the teacher a hidden nasty look before pulling her attention back to Fallan. He focuses on her every movement as she circles around the mat with him. People begin to move closer to observe the pair. Rumor is that Fallan has bested everyone, Untouchable and Unfortunate alike. But as an Unfortunate, he should be giving us the upper hand. My body moves with the crowd, looming closer to the front than I’d like. Fallan glances at the crowd that’s now formed around him, letting his eyes land on me for a moment longer before returning to scan Valerie’s movements.

“First one down for five seconds yields,” the teacher says, pushing up the glasses on his nose as he looks over the pair.

“Better yet, the first one to get the other one unconscious wins,” Josh laughs, causing many others around us to join in on taunting the pair.

Even the teacher laughs. The heads of many Unfortunates lower following the comment.

Fallan looks irritated, unable to say anything back to him.

“Would you say that while pinned under my knee?” I snap, watching Josh's wide grin drop once he realizes who addressed him. Once more, Fallan lowers his gaze as he hides a look I can’t explain, forcing it away with a shake of his head. Josh lowers his eyes at me, giving me a grin that is nothing but trouble.

“Shouldn’t have opened your mouth,” Josh hisses, filling my body with pure adrenaline.

“Sounds like you're scared,” I mutter, hearing his friends egg him on with playful side comments and slaps to the back that only get him more worked up.

The sound of grunts pulls my gaze back to the mat. Unlike all the other Unfortunates, these two fight with precision, making sure to hit one another in the places that will keep them down the longest. Where most spar gently, Fallan aims with lethal intent. His hand grabs her wrist, stopping her from delivering a blow to his side. There’s nothing gentle about him as he forces her down onto the mat by her neck. She lets out a sharp burst of air, growing angrier the longer Fallan has her on the ground. I watch her slender leg drive into his side, getting a slight wince from him before he moves his hands away from her neck and to both of her wrists, forcing them above her head. His free hand pins down her waist, letting his knee hold down her legs as she tries to writhe away from the position. I watch his grasp tighten on her wrists, holding her down effortlessly.

Something primal inside me stirs at the image of him in control, and I want nothing more than to shove it into the deepest parts of my mind. Valerie does her best to escape him, but his hold on her is unyielding. Untouchables begin hitting the mat, counting the five seconds for Fallan. He only lets up after five seconds, immediately pulling away with a wide grin as he helps her back to her feet. She gives him a playful shove, eating up his attention as he wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. Once more, I feel something stir within me at the sight, only making my want to spar with Josh grow.

“Per usual, Markswood wins,” our teacher says with a small clap, acknowledging Fallan with the tiniest bit of praise.

Fallan looks back at the group that’s formed near him, stepping off the mat as Valerie leans into his front even more. We meet each other's gaze.

It is becoming increasingly more challenging to see him with her rubbed up against him. Even when pinned beneath him in submission, she looked like she was having the time of her life. His touch is nothing new to her. Every look she gives me entices the emotions jarring around inside me. I’m starting to feel things I don’t understand.

He hates me. And she gets a version of him that I never will.

“We’re up,” Josh whispers nastily, shoving me towards the mat. I break my concentration away from Fallan as Josh shoves me aggressively once he realizes how many people are watching us. Our teacher doesn't try to protest; I'd even go so far as to say he’s amused by us pairing up.

I stumble onto the mat, now unsure of my ability to take down Josh at this proximity. Although smaller than Fallan, he’s still much taller than me, having a lot of physical advantages.

“Not so cocky when I’m standing in front of you, are you Blackburn? Are you as cowardly as your daddy?” Josh taunts, making my blood boil. I slowly turn my head back toward the crowd, watching the shake of Fallan’s head as if he were warning me not to push Josh any farther.

I take a second to scan the area where my mark lies on my body, making sure my black pants are high enough to cover all of it. I tug at the annoying gray shirt, feeling the dark gray compression top beneath it. Without thinking, I pull away the gray overshirt, revealing the much tighter compression top that hugs my spindly frame. Josh sneers as I toss the shirt off the mat, giving his friends a look that tells me he thinks he’s already won this. People whisper in groups, their eyes on us like wolves stalking prey.

“If I wanted you to strip, I wouldn't have asked you to do it here,” Josh says, getting a few disgusting laughs from his friends. Of course they’d find that funny. They’re known for getting too handsy with women.

I pause, looking over his relaxed position. I can feel the arrogance rolling off of him. I step toward him, gently caressing chest as I look up at him under hooded eyes. He looks down at me with a cocked head, waiting for me to beg for his forgiveness in front of all of these people.

“You never asked me why I took my clothes off for you,” I say silently, watching his pupils dilate at the statement.

"Why did the untamable Forest Blackburn do that for me?”

“Only one of my shirts needs your blood on it,” I hiss, watching his expression change to shock as I raise my fist, driving it as hard as I can into his jaw.

His eyes roll to the back of his skull. He staggers back, trying to ready himself to swing at me once his vision becomes clear. People around us gasp with surprise. Still, I charge forward, driving my knee as hard as possible into Josh’s stomach while forcing him down by my grip on the front collar of his shirt. His hands claw at my sides, dragging me down with him and onto the floor. I hear his flood of curses as we begin to tangle. My necklace, sure to break the dress code, untucks free from my shirt, dangling in front of us like a toy for a cat. His nail marks burn my sides as he attempts to get up. Once more, I grab his collar, forcing him back down onto the hard mat. His warm blood now runs freely from his nose and coats my knuckles.

“You fucking bitch!” he begins, grabbing the front of my collar, already tearing down a part of the front of my shirt.

I bite my cheek out of frustration, feeling the burn of my mark as a new feeling takes over me.

Strength.

Officials swarm closer, unsure how far they will let this exchange continue. I think of the helpless girl from last night and the life that was stolen from her so suddenly. I think of how alone I am in all this and how the one person who can help me can hardly look at me. I am alone, fighting a battle that has no resolution.

I drive my fist into his face again, feeling his hands release my side and front. My fist raises again, ready to deliver the final blow that I know will shut those malice-filled eyes. My hand pauses in the air next to my face. Even now, out of the corner of my eye, I can see the Officials readying themselves to pull out their light sensor prods and detain me.

Josh squirms, trying to grab my sides again, but his blood obscures his vision.

“Stay down,” I whisper silently in my mind, feeling a flood of energy pass over me.

His hands drop to the mat, pressing down firmly in place. I watch his eyes widen as he struggles to move. He looks perplexed, as I straddle his defenseless body. Slowly, the Officials move their hands away from their devices, going back to monitoring the rest of the room as if they weren't ready to drag me away from him. I hear the loud yells of students beginning to count down for us. Josh remains still, watching my jewelry dangle between us.

Turning to look at the crowd, I watch Fallan’s back move farther away from the group, leaving Valerie behind so she can watch the scene in front of her.

“ If I go for her necklace…” Josh’s voice echoes in my head. It sounds distant; quieter than usual.

I turn to look at him, watching his fingers wiggle as he continues to struggle to move in the position I have him in.

“Your hands aren’t getting anywhere near my neck, you coward,” I whisper next to his ear, hearing the final countdown completed. Josh looks petrified by my response, kicking out and away once I move off of him.

He grasps his chest, looking at me like I’m some sort of monster as his friends help him back to his feet. I wipe his blood from my hands on the top of my compression shirt. His friends begin to tease him for being defeated by a girl. He doesn’t engage with any of them. Instead, he shoves them away, lowering his head out of frustration before moving away from the crowd. I look again for Fallan, watching him scan the room one last time before slipping away. A few Untouchables begin cheering at me, joining me on the mat. They seem content that someone was finally able to take Josh on and actually win. Something they’ve wanted to do for a long time, apparently. I think we agree there. The few Officials watching over the class look amused, some more than others.

“Looks like Markswood has competition,” our teacher bellows, as the painful cuts from Josh's nails finally begin to register. I feel drained, the start of a headache forming at the sudden feeling of adrenaline leaving my system.

I shove past the crowd that’s already chanting on the next pair of students on the mat. It only took a few seconds to find myself moving closer to the doors Fallan had managed to slip through to get out of class unnoticed. I listen to the crowd get riled up once more, doing my best to avoid the gaze of my peers and the Officials as I realize just how many minutes of class are left. The smell of Josh’s blood fills my nose with hints of copper, drawing my nauseous stomach closer to release as the memories of the night of the movie screening begin to resurface. I do my best to shove them back, hitting my shoulder into the door and stumbling into the empty hallway.

Fallan continues walking away from me, burying his hands in his pockets as he weaves closer to what I can only assume is the art room. He’d been watching that whole time, looking unamused every passing second of the fight. I continue forward, forcing my clean shirt over my body, not bothering to remove the dirty compression shirt. Fallan continues to stride quickly ahead of me.

I turn the corner down the art corridor, watching his body disappear behind the colorfully painted art room door. I don’t think he’s realized yet that I've followed him. I jog forward, ready to confront him about why he even decided to talk to me today in the first place.

My steps falter as I see two Officials working their way closer from the other end of the hallway, twirling Re-Regulation devices as they look forward.

I turn, noticing their attention is focused in my direction but expect them to pass me on their way to deal with some Unfortunate student that must be nearby.

But they aren't heading toward an Unfortunate.

They’re heading straight toward me.