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The Devil: I see you had a hiccup, fix it!
Fuck! How can I fix this? Diesel won’t trust me, but he does plan to keep me around and torture me by the sound of it, so maybe I can make whoever is spying on us believe that everything is peachy.
I run into form after the bell has gone, causing Mr. Briar to look at me.
“Miss Jamison, I need to see you after class.” I nod and take a seat in a spare seat in the front row, but I don’t bother looking at the guys. I have nothing to say to them right now.
The whispers in the room make me curious, and I look back at Diesel, even though I tried not to, and he is looking straight at me, a murderous glare in his eye. I want to yell for him to get a new look because that one is getting old and is no longer as intimidating.
“Everybody zip it!” Mr. Briar shouts. His words go unnoticed or no one cares.
“Come on, Mr. Briar, we want to talk about you having Diesel’s sloppy seconds.” Wilder jabs. At that moment, I’m speechless. “The photos tell a great story.”
“Photos,” I whisper. Scrambling to grab my tablet, I pull up the Briar App, blocking out Mr. Briar shouting at Wilder. One thing I managed to do over the weekend was set up my profile. As I open it, I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
Keeping it in the family.
This post doesn’t look like the rest, it isn’t a Briar user account. I click the first picture, and it's innocent enough, Mr. Briar and I are sitting in his golf cart. The next image is of us hugging, maybe mildly inappropriate but nothing to carry on like pork chops over. Same as the third image of us driving away. It’s the very shitty still shots I flick through that horrify me, they are of me at Emory’s house and in his shirt. It doesn’t look as innocent as it was.
“Whore.” Someone coughs under their breath.
My phone buzzes, and I slip it out from my bag underneath my desk, a video from an unknown sender. I mute my phone and click play, my head spins and bile threatens to spill from my stomach. I didn’t reply to Mr. Briar's message, and this is my reminder that he owns me.
“Class dismissed.” Emory says, but I’m frozen to my chair. I don’t know how this got out, I was sure that Zeke and I had the only copies. My hands shake as I press play on the video again. Watching the video is a huge kick in the gut, a reminder of the spiral to forget the pain of losing my mum. All I wanted to do was forget. I watch my face as Zeke thrusts inside the nameless girl, but I’m void of emotion, lifeless. A combination of pain, drugs, and alcohol will do that to a person.
Emory tries to talk to me on the way out of class, but it’s a blur of words. I keep walking straight past him, flashbacks of times I wish I could forget fill me with dread, opening old wounds. I’m sent to Miss Baron’s office, and she is as scary as people say. Though she does promise to find out who posted the photos, I couldn’t tell her my reaction isn’t to those. There was no actual footage of Mr. Briar being inappropriate, so for now, he is okay. She instructs me to go about my day as if nothing has happened.
The lunch bell rings, and she lets me out of her office; with no offers of comfort to my situation. As I make my way to the food hall, I have an epiphany. One person here knew about my whereabouts over the weekend. Cuyler. I don’t want to believe he would have taken those photos. I texted him that I was at Diesel’s pool house and he never responded, but I thought I could trust him; clearly, I was wrong and won’t make that mistake again.
I pick up my speed, almost running into the automatic doors. Stepping back, I wait until they open and pinpoint my target. The whole group is sitting at their usual table. None spot me until I’m a few steps away.
“You,” I say, pointing in their direction. Everyone looks at Diesel, but I bypass him and stop next to Cuyler.
“How could you? I trusted you.” His eyes portray sadness, the smile on his face tells another story. Another asshole who pulled the wool over my eyes, someone I should have never trusted. Zeke's voice in my head is a quick reminder that I should have listened to him.Don’t ever trust any men in this world, only me. I will never lie to you.
“Never trust an Alpha, baby. We’re animals. Everyone tried to warn you.” Diesel's words roll off my skin. Cuyler cups his face, and his hair hangs around his shoulders, saving him from having to look at me.
“Fuck you, Diesel.” I snap, going to swing at him. He catches my arm and stands, towering over me.
“Get on your knees and warm me up first.” He untucks his button-up shirt, and I look up at him; he can’t be serious right now.
“No fucking way, you’re insane.” I snap and turn to walk away, but Rebel stands and blocks my path.
“Where do you think you’re going, fresh meat?” With all the strength I have, I push against his chest, his response is only to laugh. All the Alphas stand, making a circle around us. Making eye contact with Luna, she has tears in her eyes as Wilder throws her over his shoulder kicking and screaming.
“Let me down you fucking asshole!”
Her screams fade into the distance, the chatter from the food hall non-existent, so much so that you could hear a pin drop.
“Move.” I demand, trying to push my way through Rebel again. He doesn’t. This time I launch across to Huntley, then to Ryot, who shoves me in the direction of Cuyler. I try to force myself to stop, his betrayal hurts more right now than Diesel’s does. I actually thought he was serious when he said that he wanted to be my friend. Falling to my knees, I land in front of the Alpha himself. The anger inside me boils over and tears start to fall. I swore I wouldn’t be weak, the kids at my last school did worse, and maybe that was my mistake, telling Diesel about the torture I went through after my mum died.
Yet I seek out a way to cause this pain, how ridiculous right…Every time something like this happens, it brings the pain to the present, a way to numb the past. I was only kidding myself. Maybe all the mumbo jumbo they told me in rehab has worn away. I never actually had a real addiction, I didn’t take anything long enough. I had a coping mechanism. I start laughing like a crazy person, and maybe I am crazy.
“You know. You think you won.” I say, standing to face Diesel, not bothering to wipe the tears from my eyes. He smiles like he knows he has, but he is so wrong. “But you’re wrong, you are more predictable than you think.”
“Is that right?” I nod, and he looks at me as if to say, whatever.
“I knew hooking up with you was a game, one I had no choice but to play. And seeking out something bad for me, it’s what I do anyway. Read my file boys. Why Zeke died, even back before then, seeking a thrill, just now, I do it to numb the pain. Which makes next to no sense, causing pain to not feel pain, but it works. Though, unfortunately, big boy, it wasn’t you who caused this pain.” I look over at Cuy, who avoids eye contact with me. Diesel follows my line of sight, knowing exactly who I am referring to.
