Page 27

CHAPTER 27

Rodney

The odd thing about life is that the minute you feel comfortable, reality is there to slap you in the face. It’s a reminder to not think too highly of oneself, I think.

That or it’s just a stroke of terrible luck.

Mine comes in the form of a relentless jackass who can’t take a hint.

I’m walking to the library one day when I get the sick feeling someone is following me. As quickly as possible, I look over my shoulder to see if anyone stands out.

There aren’t many people around this time of day. Even so, none of them are suspicious looking.

If anything, I’m the one they should worry about with the sudden paranoia I’m feeling.

I shake my head at myself as I pick up my pace. Weaving past obstacles makes the journey more challenging than it should be. Since when does the school have all this crap around?

There are tables and chairs strewn about, with various signs and labels on them. It looks like a… Oh, that’s right. It’s a job fair.

Maybe I should be more observant. Clearly, I’m not paying enough attention to what’s going on around here. Relief moves through me as I accept my paranoid state was likely due to everything surrounding the fair rather than some imminent danger.

Except, again, the universe is funny that way.

As I round the final corner to get to the library, a hand wraps around my biceps and pulls me into a dark alcove on the side of the building. I nearly scream but then a hand covers my mouth.

“Don’t make a fucking sound,” a menacing voice says.

A familiar menacing voice.

Shoving myself away, I spin to face Liam. “What are you doing?”

He leans against the building, his pose feigning a relaxed stance. I can tell he doesn’t feel that way though. The wrinkles in his forehead and the dark shadows under his eyes are obvious tells.

“That’s no way to greet me, Rodney.”

I throw up my hands. “This isn’t a greeting. You grabbed me. What do you want? Tell me or I’m leaving.”

What am I saying? I’m leaving anyway. Whether he tells me anything or not, it’s not my business.

“Since when did you grow a pair? This isn’t like you. Where’s the fear? Why aren’t you acting like you know your place?”

“Know my place?” I snort. “There is no place for me where you’re concerned. All you’ve ever been to me is a bully. I’m done with your bullshit. There is no need for us to be around one another. I thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not over until I say it’s over.”

Blinking at his ridiculous words, I start to get a clear picture of what’s happening.

“You’ve lost it, haven’t you? That sense of power you got from picking on me. That importance you felt when everyone laughed at your jokes and went along with it.” I nod in his direction. “Where are your followers?”

He growls at me, leaping forward as if he’s about to attack.

I hold steady. The fear that normally comes at his antics is gone. “They've left you behind, haven't they? All the cronies that followed every word you said.”

He doesn't respond to my words. Instead, he begins to pace from side to side.

I'm not sure what makes me stick around. Maybe it's because I want to hear what he has to say. Is he going to give me an explanation for why he taunted me all these years? Will he give me something that makes sense rather than the foolishness he's presented in the past?

“It shouldn't be this way,” he tells me. “You're just a pathetic loser, a nerd. Why does anyone care about you?”

I scoff. “They care because I'm a good person. Because I'm interesting. The things you consider that make me a loser make other people like me. Maybe you should try it instead of being an asshole.”

He pauses his steps to look at me. “You should be afraid of me. You should be cowering in fear. It's like the world has turned mad. Everything is upside down.”

I shake my head.

“For once, I think everything has turned out right. You should really let this go. There's nothing else to say. We don't even have to be around each other.”

He throws his hands up, stepping closer to me. “I don't have to be around you to be reminded of you. You're everywhere I turn. All the networks are showing you and the future of hockey, or you and the current MVPs. I can't even watch football without a mention of you. I figured getting away from my beloved sport of hockey would give me some kind of relief, but no.”

Part of me wants to feel bad that the plan has worked so perfectly. It's a very small part. The part where empathy lives. Everything else inside me is thrilled to know he has had to deal with me being in his space. That every time he tries to enjoy something, I'm there to remind him that he can't.

I tap my foot on the ground, my impatience showing in my body language.

“It's not my fault. Maybe find something else to do. Learn to cook or something.”

His laugh comes out dark. “I don't want to learn something new. I want you out of my life completely, in the real world and online. Just fucking disappear, Rodney.”

His hands grab onto my shoulders, shaking me as if he can get rid of me that way. I freeze at the touch. Who the fuck does he think he is? This is not okay.

I try to get away from him by backing up. My feet catch on something. Whatever it is causes me to stumble.

Liam lets me go suddenly, and in a last-ditch effort to catch myself, I spin around, hoping my hands will stop me from falling too hard. Unfortunately, I don't have good luck when it comes to these types of situations. My hands do very little to catch me when the pavement is uneven.

I go down hard. Well, my face does anyway. I don't hear any noise that indicates that I might have broken something, but the ache on the right side is intense. When I run my hand over it, I come away with blood.

“Shit,” I mumble as I slowly push myself up. When I look over my shoulder, Liam is standing there with a smirk in place.

“Would you look at that? I didn't even have to try to hurt you this time. You did it to yourself.” He whistles and practically skips away.

It's as if my pain helps him get past everything he was just ranting about. I don't understand him.

People like that are the worst. I think there's some broken part of him that justifies his actions to make sense. Only a licensed professional can determine that. Not me.

I manage to get back on my feet and head towards the library, though I should really go to the nurse's office to get some medical help. However, if I don't show up for my tutoring session with my boyfriend, he is liable to send out a search party.

It's not until I'm walking inside said library that I realize I could have just texted him.

The stares I get let me know that my face is worse than I suspected. I don't stop to look in the mirror and from everyone's reactions, I don't think I want to.

I weave through the stacks until I reach the back table where I know my boyfriend will be. He hears my steps, and a smile builds on his lips even before his head rises.

“I was wondering where you were —” he starts, only to stop when he takes me in. He leaps from his chair and rushes over to me, his hands cupping my face gently.

In a soft voice, he says, "Little genius, what happened? Who did this... your face?"

The words are broken as tears flood his eyes.

"You’re hurt," he tells me. "Who did this to you?"

I shake my head, my voice catching before I can even verbalize my feelings.

“It was just an accident. I ran into Liam on the way here.”

Andry pulls his hands away, clenching his fists as his body goes tight.

"He hurt you?”

I shake my head again quickly, but then a surge of pain goes through me, and I wince. “He didn't...”

I don't get to finish my words because the next thing I know, I'm being lifted into his arms and rushed out of the library.

“Don't say another word. We're going to take you to a doctor. Then we'll go over the rest. I want every detail once you're well enough.”

I know he's not going to let me get a word in edgewise from how tight he's holding me and the urgency in his voice. He’s too far gone in protector mode.

Leaning my head on his shoulder, I hope for the best as far as his clothing goes. The blood I feel trickling down my face is probably making a mess of him.

I manage to stay awake until we get to the nurse's office. When she sees me, she immediately frets over how much blood I've lost and asking me what happened.

Andry sits beside me, his hand holding onto mine, and she cleans me up. I tell them both about what happened, careful not to leave out any details.

With each word I speak, I explain how Liam cornered me while I tried to make sense of why he hates me so much.

They listened without interrupting. Andry's grip on my hand tightens bit by bit with every detail I uncover. When we're done, the nurse makes a soft noise at me and says she would like to help me refile a report.

“It's the right thing to do, sweetheart,” she says. “Even if he didn't push you on purpose, his actions led to you being injured. He deserves to have some type of disciplinary action for it.”

I shrug since I know moving my head too quickly will only cause me pain. She leaves to go get the paperwork we'll need, which leaves me and Andry behind.

My boyfriend runs his hand over my uninjured cheek while the other squeezes my hand tightly

“I can't believe he did this,” he says.

“I know. It’s strange. I'm sorry to have worried you so much. And we need to go get our stuff from the library.”

He stops me with a firm look.

“No one is going to steal our bags, little genius. And if they do, we'll report that as well and get everything back. I’m most concerned about you and the amount of blood you lost. I want to get you taken care of, then I can go get everything else. Or I'll send someone to get it. Whichever.”

“You’ll send someone?” I ask with a grin. “Do you have like a butler or something?”

His face goes blank.

“I don't, but I know people who do.”

I squeeze his hand. “You mean the Bellports. You think Bellamy is going to loan you his butler to go get schoolbooks on campus? I don't think that fits the man's job description.”

Andry leans down his face, hovering close next to mine.

“I don't care what his job description is, and I don't care who I have to convince to take care of it. Your only concern right now should be on getting better. You let me take care of the rest. Let Daddy take care of the rest.”

With those few words, my thoughts quiet.

It's as if knowing he's gone all Daddy on me makes everything easier. It's like I can let myself go. I no longer have to pretend like it's fine. I feel a weight come off me, and the next thing I know, I'm crying big fat tears.

“I don't know why he's so mean to me,” I stutter out.

Andry climbs in beside me on the small bed and pulls me into his chest, making sure the good side of my face is against his body. He rubs up and down my spine.

“Some people are just bad, little genius. For whatever reason, they choose to behave the way they do. It’s not a reflection of you, nor are you the only person they've harmed, I'm sure. We'll file this report and make sure that there's no one else.” His words come out like a threat.

It's almost as if he's going to find a way to make sure that Liam doesn't harm anyone else.

But that's a completely ludicrous thought, isn't it? It's not like he's going to hurt him or anything.