Page 91 of The Rebel of Raleigh High

“Silver? Can you hear me?” he says softly. “Silver, please. If you don’t let me in and I die, what do you think’s gonna happen to your family? My father’ll know you shut me out. He’ll ruin them. You know it’s true. Be better if you let me in so I can wait this out with you.”

It’s a ridiculous thing to say. He’s grasping, trying to concoct something that’ll scare me into giving into him, but it’s not going to work. “Really? You really think threatening me is an appropriate tactic?”

Another loud thud crashes against the door, this time bordering on violent. “Let me in, Silver, or so help me I’ll—”

“You’ll what, Jake? Hurt me? Humiliate me? Bully me? Destroy my entire fucking life? You already did that, remember?”

“Silver,please…”

Below us, in the library, a jarring, thunderous round of shots sound out, shaking the floor beneath our feet.

“See. Jake can’t be the one with the gun if they’re shooting down there,” Sophia says. “What the fuck is your problem. Let him in.”

“Please, Silver.” On the other side of the door, Jake sounds like he’s about to break down and start sobbing.

For all that he’s done, I should not open the door.

The initial assault was reason enough to leave him out there to be shot, but add the months and months of psychological abuse I’ve suffered at his hands within the very walls of this school? Jacob Weaving deserves whatever brutal death awaits him.

He tried as hard as he could, but he didn't succeed in truly breaking me, though. He stole so much from me, but he didn't take my humanity. A part of me almost wishes he had, as I reluctantly unlock the door to the sound booth and let him in.

He rushes inside, collapsing to his knees, shaking just as severely as Sophia was a moment ago. He cowers, holding his head in his hands, and a strangled sob fills the cramped booth. Alicia and Sophia look down at him, shock and concern developing on their faces, and I allow myself the smallest moment of victory.

“You really think he's going to protect you now?” I ask bitterly. Stooping low, I scoot down so that I'm level with Jacob, eye to eye with the bastard who pinned me down and raped me. “I don't think so. See, you've always been a fucking coward, haven't you, Jake? Your strength and bravado are a pathetic act. Deep down, you've always been…this.”

He flinches at the raw disgust in my voice.

He doesn’t deny it. He doesn’t deny a single thing. He casts his gaze down at his hands, and he silently weeps.