Before I can react, large hands grip my upper arms to steady me. Revulsion spirals through me at the unwanted touch, and I wrench myself away, skin crawling.
Breathe. I remind myself. You’re at school. It’s fine. Just breathe.
“Sorry. Excuse me,” I choke out, trying not to let this frazzle me, but when I look up to see who I ran into, I recoil.
Austin Holt leers down at me, blocking my path. I jump, barely stifling a shriek as he looms over me, his hulking frame casting me in shadow. I can’t breathe with the heavy weight of his stare dragging over me.
No.
What does he want from me now?
I cross my arms, hugging myself tight as I retreat further into the corner in a vain attempt to make myself smaller.
Invisible.
Anything to avoid notice.
But I’m never that lucky.
Nausea and panic rise like twin tides set to drown me. I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting to stay afloat amidst the waves. His cologne assails my senses. It’s thick and cloying. Like an Axe body spray commercial gone wrong.
Memories flicker across my closed eyelids.
Hands pulling at my clothes. A heavy weight pinning me down to the bed.
No. No. No.
Do not go there. You’re not there. You’re here. At school. You’re safe. Austin can’t hurt you here.
Except, he already has.
Just a few weeks ago, Austin slammed my head into the wall outside the campus pool. Both in retaliation and warning.
He doesn’t care where he is when he hurts me or who might see it. An audience doesn’t stop Austin. It never has. In fact, I’m almost certain he craves the attention. The impunity.
I can’t breathe. I can’t?—
“Cece,” he drops his voice low in an almost seductive drawl. “Fancy seeing you here.” An arrogant smirk twists his mouth, and I tighten my arms around myself, fighting off a shiver.
He reaches a hand toward me, and I take an involuntary step back, sinking into the nearby wall. My heart pounds in my chest. Why won’t he just leave me alone? I can’t— I shake my head. I just can’t. Not today. Not ever.
Fuck.
I avoid his probing gaze.
Austin scrutinizes me like I’m a butterfly pinned to the wall.
Maybe if I refuse to engage, he’ll get bored and move on. That’s it. I just have to keep it together long enough for him to get bored. Austin wants a reaction out of me.
I won’t give him one.
“Aw, don’t be like that,” he croons, planting one muscular arm on the wall beside my head. He leans in close enough for me to get another whiff of his cologne. To see the blond stubble lining his jaw.
I clench my teeth to keep them from chattering and stare at the stupid puka shell necklace around his neck.
Austin presses into me until my back is flush with the wall, caging me in place as students rush by, oblivious. Their voices fade into the background noise beneath the roaring of blood in my ears.
They see us. Of course they do. But with the way we’re positioned, Austin and I look like secret lovers. They don’t see him as the monster and me, his unwilling victim. But that’s exactly what we are. Austin Holt will never be anything but the monster in my nightmares, and I hate him for it. I hate him for breaking me. For stealing bits and pieces of who I am. For turning me into this … this shell of a person. He ruined everything.
