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Before he even said a word, Mitchell shoved Kingston hard in the chest where he was still recovering from the bullet wound. Kingston winced and nearly doubled over in pain, but Ryker wasn’t going to let it slide.
He slammed his fist into Mitchell’s face and Mitchell dropped like a sack of flour onto the floor.
Everybody in the cafeteria had been watching up until that point, but now they all started cheering and hollering for Ryker to kick Mitchell’s ass.
Ryker didn’t seem to hear them, but he went after Mitchell again anyway.
“What was that you were saying about attacking?” Ryker demanded, leaning down over Mitchell. “Did you have something to tell us? Did you like watching me fuck? Is that what this is about? I’ll give you a chance to suck my cock, if that’s what you’re bugging about, you fucking nobody.”
Mitchell looked like he was going to cry, and that’s what I was excited about. I’d never seen him cut down like that, he’d always paraded around his arrogant smugness. Knowing that he had the money and the connections to be protected in all of this.
Valen and Archer joined Ryker and stood around Mitchell.
“Come on, dude,” Valen said, looking down at him. “I’ve known you since before kindergarten. You were never like this. What happened?”
“Yeah, what gives Mitchell?” Archer asked. “You weren’t always a piece of shit from what I remember.”
Mitchell pushed himself up off the floor and brushed himself off.
“I wasn’t always a piece of shit, but at least I’ve always been somebody,” Mitchell said, gathering confidence as the students around us began to chant his name instead of Kingston’s. “Not like you guys, with your whoring mothers and your absent fathers. At least my family gives a shit about me. They care enough to keep me in the Organization and keep our legacy going.”
“What the fuck did you say about their parents?” Ryker snarled and stepped forward. “You think your daddy is going to protect you here, boy? What if he knew about your habits? What if he knew what you did at the prison?”
Mitchell’s face lightened up with pure glee. “What would he think about it if he knew?” Mitchell chortled. “He’s the one who took us! Of course he knew, and he liked it as much as I did!”
His eyes slid back to me and he sneered again. That lecherous, creepy, invasive look that let me know he’d watched me have sex with Ryker and he’d seen everything.
And now he was letting me know his father had seen it too.
I was tired of this kind of control, this kind of intimidation through subjugation, and I reacted.
I remembered what Amara had told me about kicking a man in the balls, do it fast and hard basically, and I leaned back to rest my weight on my foot while I raised the other one.
When I brought it up in between Mitchell’s legs, I swear I felt one of his testicles burst on contact. He dropped to the floor and my heart filled with fiery confidence as he curled up and began to cry. And when I turned back towards the rest of our classmates in the cafeteria, I realized one amazing thing.
This time?
They were chantingmyname.
CHAPTER17
“I heardthere was an incident at the school yesterday,” Amara said as I wrapped my hands with tape to practice my punches.
“A small incident,” I said, not knowing which one she was referring to. Sofia or Mitchell, they were both interchangeable in how much satisfaction they brought me, but Mitchell’s had been much more public I supposed.
“You’ve been standing up for yourself,” she said, and the ghost of a smile played out across her lips.
“I have,” I replied, and tore the tape off with my teeth.
“How does that make you feel?” she asked and tossed the roll to the side of the practice area. We’d set up in Archer’s gym, with thick mats for protection when we fell and a couple of punching bags for kicking and hitting.
I held up my wrapped fists, curled my fingers inside, and grinned at her. “Honestly? It makes me feel really fucking bad ass.”
She looked at me with a stern expression, shook her head, and then broke out into a wide grin. “Good! Now that’s the kind of thing I want to see from you. Progress in your mental outlook towards fighting. When I first met you just a short time ago, you were a ghost of a girl hiding in the shadows of your own mind. Now you’re burning again, and ready to fight.”
“Why is this so important to you?” I asked as I started to punch one of the hanging bags. “Why do you care about my mental wellbeing in the first place?”
“Your father wants you to be prepared for anything,” she said. “You know that. He’s a stern man, but he cares for you deeply.”
