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“I wasn’t planning on doing anything with it, except to show her I had it.”
He grabs my wrist and tries to pry it away from his shirt. But I tighten my grip, and he narrows his eyes.
“This shit stops now. You got me, Oliver? It’s over.”
“Fuck you, Zayden,” he growls. “You’ve got no business in what happens between me and Rylee.”
I get in his face. “I’m making it my business.”
“You’re going to let some girl, especially her, fuck up our friendship?”
I let go of his shirt and take a step back. “I was fine with the petty shit. Hell, I helped with some of it. I even let the stunt you pulled at the party slide, although I felt that was taking it too far. But this,” I gesture to the still laughing crowd behind me, “this shit is not funny. It’s over.”
Before he has a chance to say anything else that might have my fist landing against his face, I turn around and leave the gym. There are a few people in the hallway, but from the savage expression on my face, they stay out of my way and keep their mouths shut. The school doors slam against the building when I sling them open.
I expect Charles to have already gotten Rylee out of here, so I’m surprised to find them beside her car. She has her back pressed against the trunk, her arms crossed protectively over her chest, and her head lowered, looking at the ground. Her hair has fallen forward, so I can’t see her face. Charles is standing in front of her, saying something quietly, and she nods.
I have no fucking clue what I’m going to say, but I still go over to them. Charles notices me first and stiffens, then steps protectively in front of Rylee to shield her.
“I’m getting her out of here,” I tell him, pulling my keys from my pocket.
“Like hell you are,” Charles states angrily, fisting his hands at his sides. “You really think I’m going to let you take her anywhere when you—”
I cut him off and bump my chest into his, forcing him back a step. “If you were smart, you wouldn’t finish that statement,” I warn with a deadly calm voice. “I had nothing to do with that shit, and had I known, I would have stopped it.”
“And we’re supposed to just believe you?” he scoffs.
“I don’t give a fuck if you believe me or not. All I care about at this moment is getting Rylee the hell out of here before the parking lot fills with nosy people. School’s out in ten minutes. I suggest you get the fuck out of my way so I can get her home.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, staying in place. I have to hand it to the guy. I could lay him out with one swing, and he knows this, but he still places himself in harm’s way, all in a misguided attempt to protect Rylee from me.
I unlock my fists, ready to forcefully move him out of the way, when Rylee steps up beside him with her back facing me. She lays her hand on his arm.
“It’s fine, Pierce. I’ll be okay,” she says quietly. I fucking hate the cracks in her voice.
“You sure? I can take you somewhere myself.”
“You can’t. You have your appointment with Mrs. Miller, remember?”
He scowls. “Fuck Mrs. Miller. You’re more important.”
She shakes her head, her silky brown hair swishing against her back. “I am not more important than your future. You need to go and rock the hell out of your presentation.”
They have a stare down, but after a moment, Charles nods. Leaning down, he presses a kiss to her forehead. “They’re all assholes. You hear me?” She nods. “Call me later.”
After a promise from Rylee that she’ll call, he lifts his eyes to me. His gaze loses some of its warmth. “Take care of her.”
I jerk up my chin.
It’s not until he walks away that Rylee turns toward me, and the look on her face brings my anger back tenfold. She’s deathly pale and her eyes are red and glossy. She hasn’t shed a tear, but I know she’s barely holding it in. Most girls would have been in hysterics, but Rylee has shown her resilience over and over again. Despite all the shit she’s been through, she’s never looked so close to breaking down as she does at this moment.
Some of my anger is pointed at myself. I’m no fucking better than the other assholes at this school. I’m just as responsible, because I played my part. Guilt and shame hit me square in the chest.
She doesn’t look at me, instead keeping her eyes pointed ahead at my truck several spots over. Her arms are tightly crossed over her chest still. I gently unclasp one of her hands from around her bicep, interlocking our fingers together. Her hands are cold and clammy, and even though I’m touching her, she still keeps her eyes forward. I fucking hate it. I wish she’d look at me; give me something. I’d even take the venom-filled look she’s given me several times in the past. Lord knows I fucking deserve it as much as everyone else does. Anything to make that horrific look leave her eyes.
Neither of us say anything as we walk to my truck. I open the door for her, and she quickly climbs into the seat, not once making eye contact with me. I rake my hand through my hair as I walk around and climb behind the wheel. As I start my truck, I glance at her. Her arms are back across her chest, attempting to protect herself.
“Where do you want to go?” I ask her quietly.
