Page 65 of Forbidden Heart

"No ID?" Marcus raises an eyebrow and then glances down at my phone.

"I... um... I should go," I say, trying to step around him.

"You're not a student here, are you?" he demands, blocking my way.

I shake my head. There's no point hiding the truth, anyway. Not anymore.

"So you admit it!" Marcus cries triumphantly. "And according to the Lawrence Underwood Valley Academy for the Performing Arts charter, only students and authorized guests are allowed on campus."

"I understand," I whisper, my voice trembling. Because if Charles turned me in, that means I'm no longer an authorized guest.

"And, as I've already told you before, this is an all-male dorm," Marcus adds. "Which means that you can't stay here, not even on a temporary basis."

"Okay..." I swallow hard.

"Go pack your things." Marcus leans against the door frame and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "I'll wait right here."

I can feel his eyes boring into my back as I head across the living room. It's the same feeling I've gotten on campus before, that feeling of being watched, and I realize it was probably Marcus the RA. Not a dragon, but a huntsman, lying in wait with a bow and arrow meant to fracture my heart.

Marcus may be letting me go now, but there won't be any dwarfs waiting to take me in. Just Angela, assuming she's even willing to help.

I check my phone as I rush into the home library, where all my stuff is stored. There's a text from Angela telling me to meet her at Bailando in an hour and an address attached. I quickly pull up a map and realize it's a club at the edge of campus, not too far from the house where I grew up. Father's house. The place I'll never go back to.

Making sure the home library door is locked, I quickly change into jeans and a t-shirt, and pull on a sweater in case it gets cold at night. I throw on comfortable sneakers, then silently say goodbye to everything that isn't mine.

Tate bought me a portable clothes and shoe rack with a hanging organizer to store my underwear, and I quickly look at the collection of clothing that isn't really mine. Of all the silk dresses and designer shoes, the one thing I wish I could bring is the beautiful mermaid princess dress Charles bought me at the mall. That and JJ's magnetic bracelet, but the thing's a hazard and not really mine to keep.

Maybe the guys can return the stuff and get their money back. After all the money they already spent on me, I really hope so.

"I better not catch you sneaking in here again," Marcus says as I head for the door, but he steps aside and lets me through.

I walk out with just the clothes on my back and the phone the guys got me, hoping against hope that the competition song at least partially makes up for it. Except how could it, when the guys are at each other's throats because of me? Even if they somehow make up before the performance, they're nowhere near ready for it, and I won't be there to help them through. Which means that the whole time I've been at LUV Academy, all I've done is spend their money and waste their time.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I break into a run. I have some time before I need to meet Angela, and there's one other place I have to stop first. Past the parking lot, which houses Charles's expensive car, past the spot in the forest where Tate rescued me, and back into town. Where my wallet is waiting for me, upstairs in my room at Father’s house.

Chapter 26

Once again, the path through the forest is muddy and squishy from last night's rain. By the time I'm almost at the front gate, my tears have stopped and my vision’s no longer blurry. Yet I still somehow miss the puddle directly in front of me, and my designer sneakers get soaked straight through. Oh, how I hate the feeling of wet socks!

Instead of shouting at the heavens, I take it as my due and keep going. Because it’s not like my life could possibly get any worse.

I race through town, making sure to stay on the side of the street opposite my house, and keep a vigilant lookout for Father. There's no sign of him.

When I get to the house, his car is gone, so I dare to cross the street. There’s a tree directly in front of our house, and I run to hide behind it. Then I peek through the living room window and look inside.

The house is a complete mess. Every surface is littered with takeout containers and empty beer bottles. It’s obvious that Father isn’t lacking for food or drink without me, even if he’s no longer getting home-cooked meals. Meanwhile, for all he knows, I’m living on the streets or lying dead in some ditch, and he doesn’t even care.

I get this sudden urge to track him down and give him a piece of my mind. I guess all that time away from home has really boosted my confidence... and my stupidity. I know exactly how confronting Father would end. Bruised and bloody if I’m lucky, or with another trip to the hospital if I’m not.

I know I have to be careful. Make sure Father isn’t home, sneak in, grab my stuff, and get out. Because no matter what happens, I’m not letting Father lay a finger on me, ever again.

My heart pounds in my chest as I grab the spare key from its hiding spot in the front yard and carefully unlock the front door. I leave it wide open, in case I need to run, and tiptoe toward the stairs.

In a house this old, every step echoes loudly as the floorboards shift. The stairs creak, but the lack of heavy footsteps or shouting tells me that Father isn’t home.

I make it upstairs and gingerly step into my room. It looks just like I left it, except for a large dent and broken plaster on the wall directly above my bed. I move closer and find my shattered phone lying face-up where it must have bounced after Father threw it. So much for that.

I grab my backpack from the closet floor and stuff my wallet inside. The money Father gave me for groceries is all still there, as is my ID, which is a huge relief. I pack my laptop and charger next and then turn to my closet. There’s plenty of room in my bag, so I proceed to fill it with jeans, a few tops, gym clothes and some clean undies. I open my desk drawer next and grab a photo of Mom and an old notebook filled with songs just as I hear a car pull up. Father.