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My stomach bottoms out as everything clicks into place, I’m here to get my contraception taken care of and Aeron isn’t allowing it to happen.
“No one will be fucking the Little Zero for the foreseeable future, so she doesn’t need it,” Aeron throws back, as he stands in front of my chair, grips my hips and pulls me into his firm chest.
“People change their mind. She is getting protection.”
“The Prince has declared it, no one is to sleep with her. You should know better than anyone that no one denies the Prince,” Aeron retorts, looking over his shoulder at Cole, my Cole.
“I know as well as you that not everyone follows the rules, what the Prince doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.”
“I don’t understand, what is going on?” I ask hoarsely, wondering why I feel dejected all over again? It’s good news that I won’t have to spread my legs for them, isn’t it?
“The Prince doesn’t want anyone to explore you too thoroughly until he gets back, you get four months Thirty-Four. No one will touch you or claim you until then,” he pulls away and looks me up and down, before turning his full attention to Cole. “Don’t worry Coley, she’ll get it when she needs it. Things have changed since your time in the Academy,” his words throw me off but he isn’t giving me the chance to question them. Aeron grips my shoulders and leads me out of the room, and away from the only person in this place that I want to see.
Aeron wasn’t lying, they have made no demands of me and if anything, the Harkwright men seem to be giving me a wide berth. It’s like I have a contagious disease that will kill them instantly if they get too close. It wouldn’t bother me so much if the girls weren’t singling me out because of it. I didn’t ask to be ignored and shown this apparent ‘special treatment.’ If anything I’d prefer it if I was the one avoiding people, that’s my jam and I know how it plays. But this, it’s weird and I’m starting to worry that it may be dangerous for my health.
Two weeks since I saw Cole, two weeks since Aeron dropped the bombshell that I don’t require the rod in my arm. Two weeks of death glares and chills coursing down my spine. Two weeks and one day before everything falls apart and I’m left standing here without a clue as to what is going on and scared of what is about to happen.
Walking into my last class for today, after having snide remarks filtering throughout the mess hall and the other classes left me a little less observant I guess. How else did I miss the fact that there wasn’t a tutor at the front of the class or that the room was dimly lit with the blinds drawn closed? But no, I didn’t notice any of this, and I guess I only have myself to blame as the door slams shut behind me, and a fist connects with my face.
My bag falls to the floor as another fist connects with my stomach and I fold over as an intense pain courses through me. Worse than I’ve ever felt before, and I’ve been punched a few times. In the way that I’m almost immune to the pain. It’s why I don’t react or cry out, but this is new. I look up at the faces of Thirteen, Twelve, Eight and Four, the girl who was sitting on Tom’s lap when I found them in the garden.
“You think you’re better than us?” Four asks, and yep I renounce the urge to ever utter her name again. She wants to be as bad as this place then she can own that fucking number for all I care.
“No,” I spit out as I pull my back straight and narrow my eyes on her. “I don’t think I’m better than them, but I know I’m better than you,” yeah anger is a marvelous thing. Snapping my neck, I refuse to inspect my stomach. I don’t want them to know that they’ve injured me, because I know they’ve done something but the anger is making the pain recede for now.
“Eight, go and ensure no one tries to come in, actually take Twelve with you as well,” Four orders, believing that because her number is the lowest, she is better than us all.
They share looks before walking out and if anything, I think they looked relieved to not be directly involved in this beating I’m about to receive.
Thirteen comes closer, cracking her knuckles before driving it into my ribs and her face turns red when I don’t react. I just look at her, blue on blue and I know she wants this, she wants to hurt me, to wreck me. Silly girl, she doesn’t hold enough power to do that to me.
“I don’t know why you’re so angry, you get the attention. Isn’t that what you girls want? So desperate for the approval of monsters,” I don’t shy away like I usually would but they don’t know me. They don’t know what I went through my last years in high school and what Poppy taught me to survive.
I may be socially awkward and a stammering fool at times but I’m quick, smart, and I know how to throw a punch. I won’t win any competitions but I know where to hit to cause enough damage and it’s taking everything I have to not do that to these stupid petty bitches. No matter what they think, I’m not weak.
“You are so fucking stupid, it’s painful. I bet your family couldn’t wait to get rid of you,” Four throws out before stepping closer and I watch as her hand slides behind her back.
“You’re forbidden fruit, all eyes are on you and you don’t even deserve it. You’re nothing more than a fucking ghost and your eyes are way too big for your face, I really don’t see the appeal,” Thirteen declares, before spitting in my face and my eyes close to avoid any of it reaching them.
“Don’t worry little girl, soon you won’t just look like a ghost,” Four steps closer now, “you’ll be one.”
I watch as her arm jerks and I know she passed something to Thirteen, too cowardly to do it herself, her words aren’t lost on me. I’ve walked into my own murder site and the excitement in the girl’s eyes is what scares me the most. She’s vying for my blood and I’ve never even met her before, I don’t know what Four passed to her, but I know I’m about to find out.
“Take it like a champ Zero,” she puts extra emphasis on that, showing how derisive she finds the idea of me. “I mean, at least you can die knowing you had something inside you,” my mind just… stops. I know Four is laughing but it doesn’t register, all I see is Thirteen stepping closer as her leg pulls up and she attempts to kick me in the stomach.
The thing is I’m light on my feet, it’s the benefit of being so small. It also means I’m quick and nimble to move out of her way, I don’t miss the hiss that passes through her teeth as she charges at me and I dodge her again. Only I’ve backed myself into a corner and the smile is back on her face. My eyes flick back to Four and she’s looking on in utter disinterest. I guess my dying is boring for her, I’m so sorry that it can’t be more entertaining for you, bitch.
“Don’t look at her, look at me trailer trash,” she slams her forearm into my chest and the air whooshes out of me.
Being able to read body language is a useful skill to have in any situation, especially if your life is on the line. So when I see her shoulder draw back, I have an inkling of what to expect. The glint of light on steel makes my stomach drop out and I raise my arm just in time as she brings the kitchen knife down. It cuts through my arm and all she gets for her effort is a gasp in acknowledgement. She looks pissed and I can only assume it’s because I’m not a whimpering mess or begging for my life.
The searing pain hurts like a motherfucker and I can only hold it in for so long. She pulls her arm back for a second time, but when she thrusts it down, I manage to grab the knife with my good hand. The blade cuts into my flesh but I’d rather that than me lying on the floor, bleeding out for their amusement.
She growls at me, actually growls like a dog or something. Ha, how fitting for this devious bitch.
She pushes the blade closer to my chest, but my hand can only take so much, so I kick her in the knee and fight the smile that threatens to form as she wh
impers. Only, instead of pulling away she pushes harder, I try to jerk away from the wall but she sweeps my legs out from under me until I’m lying on the classroom floor and she sprawls atop me. Her body weight pushes down on the handle and I feel as the blade pierces through my top and nicks my skin.
