Page 28 of Wicked Titan

“Noted,” I say, giving him a wave before pushing into the girl’s locker room. I should hurry to get to first period, but my movements are slow and robotic as I unbutton my stained shirt.

“You really don’t listen.”

Clutching my shirt together, I whirl to spot Asher propped against the locker before he pushes off, moving in front of me. The jerk has caught me off guard again. My heart races as I try to keep my voice from wavering. “You really don’t either. I’m almost certain this is the girl’s locker room.”

“He’s not a good guy, Quinn.”

“Neither are you.”

“I’m not pretending to be something I’m not.” His voice is confident, matching the irritatingly arrogant aura he exudes.

Is he really trying to persuade me to think he is the good guy in this twisted tale of his?

“Ah, yes … I had a front-row seat this weekend to a shit show hiding in plain sight. Lies revealed. Secrets came to light. Blah, blah, blah. Do me a favor and save your riddles for your girlfriend so she will leave me the hell alone.” I motion to my stained shirt.

Lifting his hand, he brushes the tips of his fingers over the swell of my breast. Heat flames up my neck, spreading to my cheeks.

I smack his hand away, clutch the collar of my shirt closed with one hand, and slap him hard across his face with the other one.

His face remains turned to the side for a few seconds—although it feels like hours—before he slowly turns his sinister stare to me. The muscles tighten in his jaw, a hint of pink showing on his cheek where my fingers struck.

I hold my breath, anticipating his next move. I should back away. Run. Flee. Do something, but I refuse to bow down from his menacing watch. He wants to declare Grant the bad guy, but Asher has crossed lines nobody has ever dared to cross.

My body tenses as he shifts forward, speaking lowly as a shiver moves through my body. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Releasing my breath, I watch as he strides out of the locker room. When he’s out of sight, I plop down on the cold metal bench with a thump. I don’t understand why Asher is intent on making my life miserable, and I’m not sure how much more I can deal with.

* * *

Considering how the day started, I wouldn’t have guessed the remainder of Monday would go as smoothly as it had. Searching out my key fob, I walk with Grant to the parking lot while he chats away.

“Did you want to get some coffee in the morning? My treat to make up for this morning.”

“You don’t have to do that.” I feel guilty looking at his bruised face. They had issues before I arrived, but I’m guessing whatever they have against me isn’t helping Grant’s case either.

“But I want to. Maybe meet me at Java Knox, though, so we can enjoy a cup in peace before we’re thrown to the wolves.” A mischievous smirk appears on his face as he glances over my shoulder.

Turning to look, I see Asher and Elliot propped up against Asher’s car, shooting murderous glares in our direction.

“Yeah. Meeting there probably would be much more relaxing.”

He smiles, holding out his phone. “Can I get your number?”

“Don’t do it, Quinn!” Elliot yells across the parking lot.

“Sure.” Grabbing the phone, I punch my number in as Elliot curses. He really should talk to Asher about getting a girl’s number. Grant is asking, not just taking as he pleases.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” He smiles, lingering for a moment before walking away.

Sliding into my car, I make a point to not look where I know they are still standing. I just want to get out of here before I have to start this crap all over again tomorrow.

22

Grant waves to me through the window of Java Knox, arriving before me once again as I see my quad latte waiting on me.

It’s Friday morning, the end of my second week at Golden Olympus.

I’m feeling hopeful—the week has passed without any further torture from Asher and his minions. Aside from some comments from Wade in shop, the week was rather boring after Asher’s weirdo visit in the locker room. I’m waiting for the next shoe to drop but maybe they found a new target. At least, I can hope.