AllFreeNovel
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8 yearsago
I wipe my handson my skirt and look up at the imposing building. It feels like I’m a new student even though I’ve been going here for the last five years. These huge gothic structures have never felt like anything but home. Now, they feel like they’re looming over me, ready to attack at a moment’s notice.
I try to shake my irrational fears off as I move towards the office. There’s only half a year left. Only a few months, really. Taking a deep breath I tell myself I can do this. I survived. Forged in fires and all that jazz.
Pushing through the door, I make my way to the office. A flash of pink out of the corner of my eye makes me pause and I catch sight of myself in a picture. I can’t believe they still have this up, but there it is. In the second to last shelf of the trophy case is the picture from junior prom. My long ash blonde hair lays perfectly straight falling at the waistline of my blush dress, a pretty tiara sitting proudly on my head, a dozen roses in one arm, the other linked with Charles’. Both of us with huge grins and sashes announcing us as Junior Prom King and Queen. It was a fond memory at one point, but now it just turns my stomach.
“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” someone sneers from behind me. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Jackie. Number one frenemy for as long as I can remember. I always knew she would be the type to dance on my grave. The fact she’s willing to verbalize it while I’m still standing confirms all my suspicions. She wouldn’t have the courage if I still had any status left.
Ignoring her, I turn into the office and meet the friendly face of Delilah. A staple here. She greets me, and I give her a small smile but turn away from the pity in her eyes. It’s a sight I’m used to after months alone in the hospital, going through painful and lengthy treatments and surgeries with no one to hold my hand except the nurses that had that same look in their eyes. Doesn’t mean I’ve come to like it.
Delilah gives me my modified schedule. Taking classes online ensured I would still be able to graduate come spring. I take it and quietly thank her as I move back into the hall to find my new locker before first period starts. I don’t know how I’m going to feel when I come face to face with all those that were my friends but apparently are no longer. Will they act fake towards me? Pretend the last six months never happened? Just ignore me? Treat me with disdain and disgust?
That’s the way of the elite, isn’t it? Money, power, and status are everything. I may have money, but my power and status burned down with my family home. If I want those back, I’ll have to fight and claw my way back to the top.
Hot liquid hits me and burns down my back. A scream escapes unbidden as it hits the still healing burns there. Tears stream down my face as I turn to see Jackie’s snide face. I’m already pulling my blouse off, trying to keep the worst of the liquid from reaching more of my grafts. I clutch it to my chest, trying to cover myself as well as I can.
The volume around me increases, I register flashes, jeers, and insults being called my way. Scarred. Damaged. Deformed. Disgusting. As it gets louder, I feel myself shutting down.
Withdrawing more and more into myself. My anxiety rears up as my heart beats faster, tears stream endlessly down my face, my breathing becomes rough and jagged, my body trembles and the edges of my vision start to blur A familiar deep voice calls my name.
Ice-blue eyes fill my vision, increasing my panic until I realize it’s Charles. He drapes his Letterman jacket over my exposed body. I didn’t realize I had fallen to the floor until he gently scoops me up, avoiding the now damaged grafts. I whimper as the movement tears them more.
“I’m so so sorry,” he whispers. “We just have to get you to the nurse.”
“It hurts,” I cry, not able to hold it in. I may have realized I’m not in love with him, that maybe he isn’t a good boyfriend or even the person I thought he was, but Charles was a piece of my childhood. My best friend for as long as I can remember. My first piece of comfort in our world.
“I know, Tootsie Roll. I’m so fucking sorry I haven’t been there. I’m here now, okay? I promise.” The sound of my childhood nickname warms me. Charles always felt a bit like home. At least that hasn’t changed.
Or so I thought anyway.
Holy shit.
Holy mother fucking shit.
Not much surprises me, not anymore. I had prepared for the consequences of tonight. Prepared for the war I knew it was going to bring. The scrutiny, the animosity. The fucking blood.
I was so fucking prepared for the blood.
It’s the reason the kids are locked up so tight. Why they already have so much protection surrounding them. From the moment Romano took Noah we went on lockdown because I knew it was going to come to this.
I knew the ramifications of moving out from the shadows. Of declaring who I am and making sure everyone knows exactly who my target is and what it means.
In all my preparation though, in all of my analysis of potential outcomes, I never once considered this night leading to Rachel collapsing in my arms. Bleeding out as her eyes drift closed.
“Declan!” I yell for him even as her last words make my head spin. Jade’s her sister? Jade has never once talked about any siblings. Not in all the conversations we’ve had about why Rachel would be looking for her. The laughter in the other room cuts off as I hear them starting to rush towards the front door.
“Jade!” I hear Ian yell less than a second after Rachel falls into my arms. What the fuck is happening right now?
“Declan!” I yell again even louder.
“What the fuck happened to her?” Ronan gasps. He can’t even see us yet, which means he has to be talking about Jade.
I press my hands into Rachel’s stomach where I can feel the blood seeping out of her. The black fabric of her blouse hides the blood but the fabric is soaked through, staining my hands in crimson red. Fuck, I hate that color sometimes. Amazing how I can have such adverse thoughts to the same substance I often crave to be on my hands.
“Someone tell me what the fuck is going on?” I demand, losing my patience. Logically I know only mere seconds have passed, but it feels like hours as I cradle Rachel in my lap on the floor. Her dead weight too much to try and keep her balanced on unsteady feet. The girl is slender, but she has at least five inches on me without the massive heels she always wears.
Mikey rushes towards us, cursing as he sees Rachel bleeding out in my arms. “Jade fainted,” he explains, shaking his head as he tears his shirt off over his head and passes it to me. It works a lot better to press against her wound than my bare hands. It instantly starts soaking up her blood.
