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9
Just after 6pm, I head down to the dining hall. My empty, grumbling stomach forces me out of my room and into the main building. Eastern still hasn’t responded to my text, and I haven’t managed to get hold of Tracy either. A tiny part of me thinks that something bad has happened to Braydon, but I push that thought aside. I’m sure they’d call me if that was the case. Following the sound of chatter and the delicious smell of home cooked food, I head towards the dining room entering through a set of double doors.
Laughter erupts the moment I step into the room, a second before a cream cake comes flying towards me. I duck. The cake misses me and splats on the double doors. I watch as it slides to the floor. Anger bubbles in my stomach and I clench my fists, but instead of launching myself at the nearest person like I normally would, I cock my brow then bark out an unimpressed laugh. Besides, I’m not sure which of these arseholes threw the cake.
“Next time use someone with a better aim,” I say to anyone who’s listening before striding into the room and nudging past a bunch of arseholes who are attempting to be intimidating but failing miserably. Bram and Red are sitting with them, which figures. I glare at them, baring my teeth. I don’t think they realise who they’re messing with.Dickwads.
Picking up a tray from the counter, I start grabbing items. I’m suddenly not particularly hungry, but there’s absolutely no way I’m letting any of these arseholes think they’ve got the better of me. So, I pile my plate with curry and rice, a bowl of salad and some bread. It’s self-service, and as far as I can tell on my quick sweep of the room, there aren’t any adults or staff around at the moment. Figures. None of these arseholes would be ballsy enough to throw food at me were an adult in the room. At least, I don’t think they would.
From the far corner of the dining hall, a group of about fifteen guys start to jeer and catcall. It’s the same group I came across earlier today. They’re all looking at me like I’m a nice juicy piece of meat that they want to chew up and spit out. Bunch of dicks. Actually, wait, three of them are chicks. A crew of dicksandchicks then.
“What?!” I sneer. If they think they’re going to intimidate me, they’ve got another thing coming. I’ve dealt with bigger and badder men than these bunch of arseholes.
“Well, if it isn’t the resident skank. You manage to shower yet?” Bram sneers, drawing my attention back to him and the group of fools he’s sitting with. He’s laughing loudly at his own weak as fuck cuss and I can’t help but respond. He’s walked right into this one.
“You managed to get your dick up long enough to satisfy your girlfriend or did she findanothervictim to get her off whilst you whacked out a ten second jizz party?” The room erupts with laughter and more catcalling, this time aimed at Bram and Red.
“Why you little…”
“Bitch?” I ask before Red can finish her sentence. “Ever heard the saying ‘sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me?’ Call me every damn name under the sun,Bitch, but know this… I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck.”
Her mouth pops open as her face flushes an angry shade of red. I make a point of looking at each of them, not dropping my gaze and not backing down. “Next time one of you attempts to decorate me with cream cake you better be ready, because thisbitchain’t a pushover.”
With that I stride over to an empty table, place my food on top of it, and start to eat. I expect more backlash, but the room descends into silence. Even the jeering has quietened, and there isn’t any food being thrown at me, so I guess that’s a win?
“Bram was right, you have got bigballsfor a girl,” a deep, almost melodic voice says from behind me. “If you wanna show me just how big, now’s your chance.”
“Oh for fuck sake,” I mutter.
What now? Don’t these dickheads have anyone else to mess with? I slam my fork down on the table making the water inside my drinking glass spill over the sides. Slowly I push my chair back then stand, turning to face whoever it is that’s trying to screw with me this time, only to come face to face with a god.
A literal fucking god.
He smirks because heknowsit too. I blink a couple of times, swallowing heavily as I realise that isn’t a halo around his head but the afternoon sun shining through the window behind him, lightening his hair.
“I’m Ford,” he states, and itisa statement, not an introduction.
He stares at me from beneath hooded eyelids, giving off the impression of someone who’s both distinctly unimpressed and nonchalant, but it’s all an act. Beneath the half-mast of his facade, his eyes are sharp, focused and calculating.
“And?” I retort. His grey-green eyes rove over my skin, making it prickle… with fear? I’m not sure. I guess that would be a yes if I was fearful of what this guy could do to my heart. Just as well I’m not afraid of that. No, I’m really not.
“Yeah. I like it,” he states, running his assessing eyes over me. I’m not sure if he’s talking about my name, or some other aspect of me. Either way, I feel weirded out by my immediate reaction to him.
“Such a tiny girl with so muchfire,” he mutters, running his knuckles over my cheek. The second they graze my skin my stomach tightens and my heart flip-flops. What is wrong with me? I need to get my shit together and fast!
He smirks, his gaze travelling from my eyes to my lips that have parted of their own accord. There’s an edge of superiority in his gaze, like he really doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks of him, least of all me. Some people will say they don’t care about what others think when really, they do. But this guy he really, really doesn’t. He’s the type of guy to play chicken with cars on a motorway. The kind of guy who’ll lead you to war without you even questioning why, then stand over the dead and the dying without so much as a shred of guilt.
If I want to survive Oceanside,thisguy is the one I need to keep an eye on. Not Bram, not Red and not the mob of dumb arses who think throwing a cake at me will force me into submission. Least of all the other residents I haven’t even had time to consider just yet.
Ford’s the kingpin and so far, the most dangerous person of all. At least to me.
“So easily breakable…”
“What the fuck do you mean by that?” I retort, pushing aside my growing... desire? And drawing out the hardened me.
His tall six-foot frame crowds me beyond the point I’m comfortable with. I stiffen feeling both acutely annoyed, a little intimidated and turned on, to be honest. The whole room has fallen deadly silent telling me two things; I was right about him, and they want to see how I’m going to react next.
“I’m not breakable…” I insist.
