Page 4 of Vicious Titan

4

Victoria

Every cell in my body says to run. Leave. Get out of the building and as far away from him as I can before it’s too late. But the damage is already done. His arrogant smile, whether authentic or artificial, has officially severed my grasp on any bit of hope I’ve clung to about not letting him get to me. And my biggest worry is if I get anywhere near him, I’ll cave and tell him everything Olivia confessed yesterday. How does he pretend so easily? That, I’ll never understand.

Stepping into Mr. Sutton’s classroom, I plop down in my usual desk. Things are so different from twenty-four hours ago when I’d last sat in this room. Minutes slowly tick by as people start trickling in. It feels like it’s been an eternity, yet it’s still not time for class to begin. Will the entire day feel like this?

A soft knock pulls everyone’s attention to the doorway as a girl looks directly at me before glancing to Mr. Sutton then back to me. She moves swiftly, standing beside my desk. “Are you Asher’s sister?”

“Yes,” I say hesitantly, attempting to not let the reference get to me. It’s not like I know the girl’s name, either.

“Here.” She holds out a folded slip of paper, which I warily grab from her. Without another word, she walks out of the classroom. Glancing at Mr. Sutton, I see his gaze is on me, seemingly just as confused about the mysterious girl.

Carefully unfolding the paper, my breath hitches as I read the single word scrawled across the center. Replaceable. I don’t have to guess who it’s from. Elliot is sending a clear message not only with the one-word taunt, but also by having her refer to me as Asher’s little sister.

“Everything okay?” Mr. Sutton asks, genuine concern in his voice.

No doubt the audience was part of Elliot’s master plan. Clearing my throat, I respond as best I can. “Yes sir. Everything is fine.” And it will be.

Harnessing every bit of strength in me, I refrain from responding to Elliot, though I’d love to tell him exactly what I think about his delivery. Ignoring him is the best course of action for the time being. Crumpling the paper into a ball, I toss it into my bag, thankful for the bell that signals class is about to begin.

Surprisingly, I manage to focus during Mr. Sutton’s calculus lesson, though I can’t help but wonder if Elliot will ever leave me alone. It wasn’t enough to abandon me in the parking lot and refuse to listen to an explanation. He couldn’t just let me suffer alone and in silence; no, he has to revel in my agony.

In second period, a different girl knocks on the door as I’m settling in for class, confirming that he isn’t going to let me be. Not that Elliot ever would. He wouldn’t be himself if he wasn’t putting on some spectacle. Unluckily, it seems to be focused on me today.

The girl shuffles quickly across the room, making her way to me. “Are you Asher Hastings’s little sister?”

“Yes,” I say flatly.

She gives me a warm smile, no doubt clueless to the torment she’s handing me in the form of a slip of paper. “Here you go.”

Grabbing the paper from her, I notice a few eyes on me as I lay it on my desk without peeking inside. Why bother? It’s just another childish dig at what the jackass knows will get to me. I really shouldn’t open it, but as soon as everyone’s attention is focused elsewhere, I pick up the slip of paper and read the word even though I know it will only further my anguish.

Convenient. The single term on the paper pains me worse than it should. It’s not as if when he’d spoken the words, they hadn’t cut deep enough. They’d nearly gutted me. But now he needs to remind me. Ripping the paper in two, I stand from the desk, toss it in the trash then return to my seat.

It wasn’t the last message of the day, but it was the last one I read. The rest I snatch from every clueless delivery person, including one boy whose face was as beet red as his hair. If he’d read the message, that would make one of us because I threw it straight into the trash.

Finally, I head to my last class of the day, which is (thankfully) swim, something that usually clears my head. Hopefully, it has that much-needed effect today. As I mindlessly walk down the hallway, a harsh grip suddenly clasps my arm, hauling me sideways into a dark room. I don’t have to guess who is responsible. Though I can’t see his face, I can feel his body against mine, his breath on my face as his enticing scent fills my nose. Elliot.

“Let. Me. Go.” I pull my arm out of his grip as he too easily releases me. The light flicks on as I look around the small janitor’s closet. Moving to the door, Elliot shifts in front of me with a smug grin, blocking me from leaving. “What? Run out of little minions to deliver your fucking childish messages?”

“No. I can always find someone to fulfill my needs.” He steps forward, though I remain rigid. When he presses his body into mine, his arm snakes around my lower back. It feels right and wrong at the same time. No one should be able to elicit this much pain and pleasure from a person … especially if they care about them the slightest bit.

“Then go mindfuck one of them because I’m done with all of this.”

He snickers, dropping his mouth next to my ear as his warm breath floats across my skin, sending an unwanted shiver down my spine. “We both know you’d let me fuck you. Let me bury myself inside you time and time again at my convenience.”

I can hear the smile in his voice as he exaggerates the word convenience. In this moment, there’s no part of me that wants him. Any of him. The sweet, caring Elliot isn’t worth any of the other parts. Certainly not the angry, vindictive side he’s exposing now. Humiliation courses through me as I shift back, looking up to the smile I’d heard in his voice. How could the kind, caring, compassionate person who’d stolen my heart be the same brutally vicious asshole in front of me? The only thing I want is to hurt him, get him to leave me the hell alone. So I say the words furthest from the truth and the ones I know will achieve the desired reaction from him. “I’d rather fuck Grant.”

Fury flashes across his features as he surges forward, his face in mine as he remains silent—a true rarity for Elliot Bass, so much so that it pleases me thoroughly. He remains there for an excruciatingly long minute until he takes a calculated step back then promptly turns to walk out without a word.

“I’m done. I’m not doing this. I won’t. I can’t,” I say as he halts, his back to me. I continue, though my voice betrays me, and I’m unable to keep my emotions at bay. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I visited Olivia, but you’re not the only one who misses her.”

Hauntingly slow, he turns, walking back to me with an unnaturally controlled, stiff posture that makes me uneasy. “No. But I was the only one who was there that night, begging her not to leave me.”

My heart aches for him, not for the brutal asshole but for the loving son who is clearly still traumatized, reliving the ordeal night after endless night. “And I’d give anything to trade places with you, because I actually care about you even if you don’t feel the same way about me.”

He remains silent, unmoving, as I take the opportunity to step around him. Pulling the door open, he catches my wrist in his firm grip.

Looking over my shoulder, I’m met with his detached stare. Jerking out of his clutches, I swallow down the raw hurt that has risen inside of me. He’s exposed and thoroughly probed every single vulnerability I possess at every opportunity today. “I just want you to stay away from me. If not, I’ll inform Asher of every lie you’ve told him. I’ll tell him precisely what you’ve been doing behind his back all this time, then he’ll know exactly why I don’t want you in my sight.”

Frustration flashes across his face. Of course it does, because I’d mentioned his best friend. The Hastings he actually cares about.

He doesn’t make a move to stop me as I swiftly step out into the hallway. With nearly everyone in class, it doesn’t look odd when I break out into a sprint heading to the locker room. A few curious eyes give me a quick glance before going on with their day. Little do they know I’m not running to something but rather away from it, from him.