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Fifteen minutes later, I’m fumbling with my fingers on the couch, waiting impatiently for him to get home, when the doorbell rings and I roll my eyes. Grunting, I set a slow pace toward the door, a little annoyed at him for ringing the doorbell.
The bell rings again, and I swing the door open with a scowl on my face.
“You forgot your ke—?” My breath stops when I’m face to face with a set of eyes I hoped to never see again. They are gray, as cold as ice, and sometimes I wonder if they will haunt me in my sleep forever.
“Trent.” There is shock in my voice and a shiver runs up my spine when I see the corner of his mouth curl up. One arm drapes against the doorpost, and the lopsided grin that slowly forms reminds me of everything I don’t miss about him.
“Hey, honey.” His voice is smooth, like a slithering snake, and I wonder how I ever fell for him.
When we first met, I looked up to him. I was honored that he wanted me. He was on the tennis team, the golden boy that was set to win Wimbledon one day, a living God on campus. Every girl wanted him. Every guy wanted him to choke on his own racket. I was hypnotized by his gray eyes whenever he would direct them at me, and when he asked me on a date, I was eager to say yet. Now I regret that moment every single day. Now I regret giving him the power to tear me down in every way possible. For too long, he held me in my grasp, until I felt like I was backed against the wall and my only way out was giving up my own dream. Dropping out of my dream school.
“What are you doing here?” I do my best to keep my voice steady, confident, but the goosebumps trickling down my arms don’t give me the feeling I’m succeeding in my effort.
“You won’t answer my calls.”
“There is a reason for that.”
“You see,” he tuts, “I disagree.” He glances over my shoulder, looking for anyone else. My mouth turns dry while the sound of my heart pounding in my head makes it hard to focus on what he’s saying.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“No.” It’s firm. It’s determined, but it’s quickly replaced by fear when his eyes widen in amusement. Not even an ounce of frustration shows on his face, telling me he doesn’t take me seriously.
”Is he home?” He rolls his lips as the words leave them with disdain. It’s almost a snarl, but he seems to hold back, his tension only clear for me because I know him.
I swallow. “We’re over, Trent.”
“Nah, we’re really not, sweetie.” Like a viper catching his prey, he snatches my face, his palm covering my mouth, and I gasp for air through the openings in his fingers. Fear creeps up, freezing every muscle of my body. My fingers clutch onto his wrists in an attempt to pull his hand off, but he’s too strong. By my face, he yanks me out of the doorway, then slams me against the doorpost. A sharp pain slices through my skull and I shut my eyes before he moves his mouth flush with my ear. His other hand presses his fingers into my sides, painfully squeezing to keep me in place.
“You made me look like a fool after you disappeared. I can’t have that. I won’t accept that.” He spits his words, his tone laced with hate and contempt. “You’re going to pack your bags and come back to me. Tell everyone how you made a mistake. I talked to the board, and they are willing to reinstate your scholarship.”
Out of habit, and fueled by fear, I want to say yes. I want to concede, but for some reason, the last few weeks flash in front of my eyes and my bravery seems to outmatch my level of fear, though it’s still there.
“No!” I shout in his face, keeping my eyes closed.
“What the fuck do you mean no?” he sneers in an ominous growl, showing the darkness of his true colors, and I can feel how his energy grows. Usually, this is the time I shrink under his gaze, agreeing to whatever he wants just to get it over with. But as much as I don’t have any clue how to defend myself against him, I refuse to be a helpless little girl any longer.
Feeling braver than I ever felt before, I brace myself and open my eyes, locking them with his. They are furious.
“NO,” I growl this time. His fingers are still pressing against my jaw while his skin grows as red as a tomato. I expect him to snap. To hit me like he’s done many times before, and even though I refuse to untangle our gazes, the anxiety rises to a peak. The anticipation makes it hard for me to breathe, making me believe I’m about to pass out, until all of a sudden, his touch disappears from my face. Time seems to act in slow motion for a moment as I see how someone crashes Trent against the wall in front of me, a large hand wrapped around his neck. Confused, I stare at the back of a brown head of hair, then recognize his tensed muscles etching through his shirt.
“Bodi!” I shriek in both horror and relief. I keep my body pressed against the wall, my hands covering my mouth as I watch how Bodi tightens his grip on Trent’s neck.
“You got some nerve, boy.” Trent’s eyes look like they are about to pop out of his head, fear dripping from them. It shows even more what I saw the moment I opened the door. He’s nothing more than a boy. Nothing more than a privileged college boy, thinking the world owes him everything he wants.
Bodi grabs Trent’s arm, twisting it in a weird angle while Trent keeps squirming under his grip.
“Was this the arm you just touched my girl with?” He cocks his head, making it able for me to catch the side of his face. He’s livid.
“No, please. Not my arm,” Trent begs like a baby.
“Why’s that, mate?” His Australian accent becomes thicker as his anger maintains. “Is this your tennis arm? The one that is supposed to give you victory and eternal fame?” Bodi twists his arm a little farther, and Trent cries out in pain.
“No! Please! No!”
“Don’t you know hitting women just gives you an eternal ticket to jail?” He pauses, lifting Trent a little by his neck. “Something tells me you wouldn’t survive jail. Do you want to see how far you’ll get?”
Trent shakes his head, tears streaming down his cheek as he shuts his eyes.
“Let me get one thing clear. If I ever see you within a five-hundred-yard radius of her, I’ll shove your racket up your ass, prepping you for a few years in jail. You got me?”
He frantically nods.
“You never get to touch her ever again. Do you understand?”
Another nod.
“Do you understand?” Bodi roars in his face, making me wince.
“Yes!” Trent’s eyes shoot open, with desperation etching in through his voice.
“Good. Now, look at her.” Bodi uses his thumb to twist Trent’s face a little toward mine and he meets my gaze. “Give yourself one last look, because it’s the last time you’re ever going to see her again.”
I narrow my eyes, giving him a silent fuck you with just a gaze before Bodi throws him away from us and into the hallway.
“Get the fuck out of here before I really lose my temper and decide to break your arm in ten pieces.”
Not wasting another second, Trent scrambles up from the floor, stumbling over his own feet as he runs away. When he’s no longer in sight, I suck in a deep breath and Bodi turns his head to me. His eyes are laced with worry and he takes a big step closer, pulling me against him by the back of my neck. I press my cheek against the warmth of his chest, letting my tears stream down my face.
“He hit you?” Bodi hums against my hair with a stunned tone in his voice. He holds me tightly against him as if I’m fragile, but for the first time in forever, I feel strong.
When I don’t reply, he takes my face in his hands, locking our gazes.
