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I stand here, staring down at Lance's unmoving body, a gash by his eye from where I got him with the monitor. Beau kneels beside him and checks for a pulse. He must find one because he sighs and then glares at me as he stands.
"That wasn't very smart, Ry-Ry. You could have killed him," he says, then looks me over.
"He fucking deserved it." I glare back at him. "That's the second time he's tried to pull shit with me."
The smirk on Beau's face only angers me further, but his words send me into a rage. "And yet, you came back for more…"
I fly at my tormentor; a sound I've never heard comes from deep within me. I'm tired…so tired of his bullying and taunts—fucking all of it! I can only shove him back a step before he takes hold of my upper arms and starts shaking me.
"Get a fucking grip, Ryan!"
"Fuck you, Beau!" I slam the side of my fist against his broad chest, and then the other fist follows suit.
He stands there stunned before he grabs my wrists and shoves me against the wall. "Hit me one more time, Ryan, and you're not going to like what happens! We need to go—now!"
"I'm not going anywhere with you!" I try to break free of his grip, but it's useless.
"Fine. Stay, and when the cops come, they will take you in for assault. Leave now, and I will ensure you don't get any charges pressed against you." He's angry at me, and I don't know why. It's not like I asked him to come here.
"What are you even doing here, Beau?"
"I got a call telling me that my plaything was here. Obviously, I had to come and drag you back home." His mouth curves on one side, showing off a dimple I've never noticed before.
"Well, you better go find it then and leave me the fuck alone." I know he is referring to me as his plaything, but I will not play into his little game.
Beau squints and leans in a little more. "Didn't I tell you that you would find yourself in trouble if you didn't quit this shit?"
"You're probably the one that set this whole thing up—ow, goddamn it!" I curse as his grip tightens, crushing my wrists together tightly.
"Don't fucking test me, Ryan." He pulls me away from the wall and drags me toward the door.
"I'm not going anywhere without my friend!" My voice cracks as I dig my feet into the floor.
He stops. "Where is she?"
"He." I correct him. "Brock is knocked out in the shower."
Anger crosses his face again. "Maybe your boyfriend will think twice before bringing you to a place like this again."
When he continues to pull me toward the door, I kick him. "Let me go, Beau!"
He spins on me. "I'm here to take you home, and if I have to sit outside your fucking house to make sure you don't sneak out again, so be it…"
My breath hitches. "Why do you even care what I do? All you do is torment me all day long at school. Can't you at least leave me alone outside of it?"
"Why do you feel the need to do all this toxic shit?" he asks.
"None of your fucking business!" I finally snatch my hands out of his grip and run to the bathroom to check on Brock, who is just starting to wake up.
"See, he's going to be fine." Beau spins me around and tosses me over his shoulder. "You can talk to him tomorrow."
I'm carried out of the bathroom and out the house's back door, kicking and screaming for him to put me down, but it does no good. Beau tosses me in his car, pulling the seatbelt across my body, and clicking it into place. His doors lock as he walks around to the driver's side, then unlocks so he can get in.
"This is kidnapping, Beau!" My eyes burn in anger at him.
"It's not kidnapping when I'm taking you to your house, Ry-Ry." He sounds bored as he starts his Lexus.
"Stop calling me by that name." I sit back, resigning myself to my tormentor's treatment.
