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“You’re acting insane, Roy. Leave me alone.”
He towers over me, attempting to intimidate me with his significantly larger and bulkier size. A sliver of fear curdles in my gut.
“You’re going to tell them about this, aren’t you? To have them hurt me?” He barks out a dry, humorless laugh. “Or maybe you’ll hurt me yourself. Heaven only knows you’re just as fucked up as they are.”
“Roy,” I growl. The fear inside of me bubbles and pops like kernels, transforming into anger. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
A sad, almost pensive smile crosses his face. “You never used to swear.”
“How the fuck would you know? We’ve gone on, what? Two dates?” I shake my head in disbelief. “You’re insane.”
“What seems to be the problem here?” a familiar British voice exclaims.
Beckett all but shoves Roy out of the way as he studies me intently, his mismatched eyes running down the length of my body, checking me for injuries. Fear and anger war for dominance on his beautiful face.
“Are you okay?” he demands roughly, his body shaking with barely suppressed rage.
“Just annoyed,” I answer honestly.
Beckett spins to give Roy his full attention, and I place a calming hand on the small of his back. I hate the way he shakes with fury.
“You better leave right the fuck now before I fucking kill you.” His hands ball into tight fists.
Roy gives Beckett a look rife with disbelief and haughty disdain before peering over his shoulder at me. “Are you seriously going to let him talk to me like that?” He must see the confirmation on my face because his lips curl with disgust. “Moreau was right about you. You’re nothing but a whore?—”
Beckett’s fist flies at Roy’s face. The other boy staggers backward with a cry of pain, clutching his red cheek. Blood gushes from his nose.
“You better find a new school by tomorrow,” Beckett hisses, advancing on Roy like an avenging angel, all dark fury and cold perfection. “Because if you’re still here by tomorrow morning, you’re a dead man.”
I peer around Beckett, my lips tugged down into a frown. “Moreau? As in…Mr. Moreau?” An icy chill works its way down my back.
If possible, Beckett goes even stiffer. “What the fuck does that pervy teacher have to do with any of this?” he barks.
Roy’s eyes flare with anger. “Don’t talk about my cousin like that!” His own hands form tight balls by his sides. “I know what you and your friends did to him.”
“We should’ve fucking killed him, just like we should’ve killed you.”
“Your cousin tried to rape me,” I snap, knowing Roy won’t care about something like that. After all, he tried to do the same thing.
“Please.” Roy scoffs. “He said you were begging for it until that asshole came in the room.”
Beckett lunges forward, but I grab his bicep, pulling him to a stop. Fighting Roy in public will only get him in trouble. There’s only so many times Landon can bribe the police and school officials. Besides, we don’t know which ones are corrupted. If Beckett does the wrong thing, he could end up in even deeper shit than mere detention.
“He’s not worth it,” I tell him, keeping my eyes trained on Roy.
“Fuck you, Ellie.” Roy grabs at his bleeding nose with a pained grunt.
Beckett, once again, attempts to charge at him, but I don’t loosen my grip.
“He’s not worth it,” I repeat. “Come on, Beckett.”
“You have ten seconds to get out of my sight before I kill you and destroy your body, so the cops can never find you,” Beckett says, his tone a low, throaty growl. The sound has heat pooling in my lower belly.
Roy must see something in the Brit’s eyes—or hear the promise of pain in his voice—because his face drains of all color. He swallows audibly, tosses me one last helpless glance, and then spins on his heel. I have to give the boy credit, though. He doesn’t run. His pace is decidedly indolent as he rejoins the throng of students coming to and from class.
“Beckett, take a breath for me,” I soothe, keeping my hand on his back, attempting to provide him even a smidgen of comfort. “Deep breath.”
“I’m going to kill him,” he whispers. “I’m going to play jump rope with his innards.”
