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Don’t fight back.Don’t give him the satisfaction.
I say it over and over to myself in my head, like a chant.
I never fight back. He’d like it too much if I did. The only power I have in this moment is to give him no reaction.
So I retreat further inside myself, embracing the cold detachment and using it as a shield. I look him in the eye unflinchingly, refusing to back down.
If the twitch in his eye is anything to go by, my act of rebellion is only serving to fuel his viciousness.
He crouches down next to where I’m lying on the floor. “What I decide to do with this school has absolutely nothing to do with you. Those girls both had stellar school records and will help reinforce RCA’s sports and academic standings.”
I still refuse to speak, looking at him with a goading smile on my face.
He throws me a lethal look before standing up. His foot shoots out and kicks me in the stomach a second time.
He buttons his suit jacket and smooths out his hair.
He wouldn’t want his colleagues in New York to know he just finished beating his son. That wouldn’t be good for the family image.
“I’ll be home more frequently now to oversee the board as we review applicants for the next batch of scholarship students. Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other,son.”
He adds the last word with a sneer.
With that, he spits at my feet and walks out of the room without a backward glance.
I extend a hand to grab the edge of the desk, using it as leverage to haul myself carefully to a standing position, wincing as I put a hand on my stomach to soothe my bruised abdomen.
I feel like I’m spinning out of control, my rage threatening to take me over completely. I grab the open decanter and hurl it against the wall.
It shatters on impact, the brown liquid dripping down the wall and adjacent bookshelves.
It does nothing to calm me down, the frenetic energy in my body still looking for an outlet. It started with her, and only grew stronger as the confrontation with my father unfolded.
Her.
He thinks she’s so fucking special.
The altercation with my father does nothing to overshadow my earlier exchange with her, instead fueling an imperative need to destroy her.
I’m going to make her regret that she ever left her quaint little life.
I’m going to make her regret that she ever crossed me.
5.
Bellamy
“On a scale of 1-10, tell me honestly, Six. How bad was that?” I ask her.
The moment he steps intoBella’s, the four of us hightail it back to the golf cart and drive off, our plan to sit and enjoy milkshakes by the pond forgotten.
I’m sitting in the passenger seat, turned towards Six as she drives us towards the pen.
“It’s not great.” She says with a grimace in my direction. “Hopefully in a day or two someone else will have caught his attention and he’ll have forgotten about you.”
There’s not much hope in her voice.
“How likely do we think it is that someone will attempt to stab him by Monday?” Nera asks hopefully.
