“We don’t have a choice, we gave up our choices when we joined. There’s no way out. You knew that, so did we. If we have a direct order from our father, we have to follow through,” Slate adds in his opinion, like I care.
“Well, fuck you and fuck The Order and fuck everyone at this idiotic fucking school too! If you so much as let one more person lay a hand on her, I will blow this school to the ground with everyone in it.”
“That’s a bit much, even for you,” Sawyer says in his calming teacher voice, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Besides, you blow things up and burn things down, so that makes no sense.”
“Why are you even here? Go and make sure she’s okay! You’re the only one she will talk to.”
He opens his mouth to ask how we know, but I storm from the room before he can say another word. I need to hurt someone or something. It’s usually Onyx who beats the shit out of people when he gets like this and now I see the appeal.
I walk, no idea where I’m going, anger fuelling me, hoping someone dares to speak to me. Just let them try. I’m ready for blood, and I don’t care who I take my rage out on. I stalk across campus, stomping and kicking at the frosted ground beneath my feet, muttering curses under my breath. I’m so mad, I’m not even sure who it’s aimed at anymore: Amelie for refusing to hear me out and put this misunderstanding behind us; for refusing to let me protect her; for failing to protect herself. At Baxter fucking Branson for thinking his stupid empty threat would keep her safe. At Elsie for not seeing Amelie back to her room. I’m mad at my father for insisting that Amelie join The Order and for commanding us to bring her in. At Onyx for decreeing that we don’t help her. At myself for listening to all of them. But mostly, at the dead man walking who dared to lay a finger on her.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I’m so wound up I think about ignoring it. But then it buzzes again. Sighing, I pull the small device out and see I have two messages from Slate. The first is a video file I need to download, the second simply says‘what you asked for’. The video downloads almost instantly and I hit play; what I see makes me grind my teeth so hard I’m sure I chip something.
Fuck!
It looks way worse than Onyx made out. As I watch, my blood boils as an upperclassman – serial rapist – called Mark pins her and squeezes her throat. Then it runs cold as he drops her and I see how close to passing out she was. I rage, white hot, when he kicks her and leaves without a backward glance. The video cuts out with Amelie gasping on the floor. I have no idea how she made it to her room.
Emotions war within me. Half of me wants to run to see if she’s okay, the other half needs to kill Mark and make him pay for this. On impulse, I forward the video to our father – nocaption necessary – and to Branson.Your warning didn’t do shit,I send.
When I get to the guys’ dorms I don’t bother to knock on Mark’s door, I kick it in, happy when the sound of wood splintering fills the air. That’s the sound I want Mark’s bones to make.
“He’s not here,” a resigned, fed-up sounding voice says. I blink enough to clear the rage from my tunnel vision and see his roommate sitting on the bed, playing Xbox. “He’s already in the hospital, courtesy of one of your brothers.”
Oh. Deflated, with adrenaline swirling all around me and no outlet, I punch the wall. I just needed to let it out. The roommate – Stuart – sighs but doesn’t say anything. Damn. I wish he would. I’d love to start a fight.
“What’s he in hospital with?” I manage to grind out.
“Broken hands. Absolutely smashed to pieces. And his jaw is currently wired shut. All his meals are through a tube up his nose.”
“Good,” I growl. Only, it’s not enough. I want to take that barbed wire I threatened to ass fuck him with, and I want to choke him with it, like he did to Amelie. Anything less than a slow, agonisingly painful death, is too lenient for this scum.
“You tell him this isn’t over. I’m coming for him.” I turn and walk out, not bothering to try and fix the door behind me. Not my fucking problem.
Amelie is my problem. And I need to see her. I cross campus in record time, striding up to her dorm. I don’t kick her door down, but I do hammer on it impatiently.
“Amelie! It’s me. Let me in! I know you’re in there, Amelie, and I’m not going anywhere until I see you with my own eyes!”
The door opens, but I’m so busy shouting that I don’t react in time. A firm hand pushes against my chest and the door clicks closed again. Sawyer is standing in front of me, frowning.
“Will you keep your goddamn voice down! You’re making a scene and Amelie needs rest.”
“I want to see her, damnit, Sawyer!”
“Well you can’t. The doctor is in with her at the moment so calm your fucking tits.”
“Doctor? Is she okay?” In a panic I try to reach past him to grab for the door, but he pushes me away again.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Kalen. I’m sorry. Give her time. And space.” Sawyer pulls a sympathetic face.
“How come she’s so okay with you all of a sudden?” I ask suspiciously, turning my anger on him with a fierce glare. Sawyer sighs like I’m exhausting him. He always does this.
“Do you want to talk about that? Or do you want to know how she is?”Both.
“The latter,” I sulk.
“She has a broken rib, maybe two, and severe bruising around her neck. It hurts for her to talk and even swallow at the moment. She needs to rest up because she’s refusing to go to the hospital.”
“Can't you make her?!” I cry.
