Page 23 of Wicked Titan

Did I really think we could have a rational conversation that would make sense? I move to step away. “No. It’s—”

His arm snakes around my waist, spinning me until my back is against the locker where he was standing. Possessively towering over me, I feel his heated words radiating in his stance before they leave his mouth. “You are mine.”

His frustration insinuates that I should already be aware of this. That alone should piss me off, but the rage he’s directing at me only fuels my desire to bring a further rise out of him, a clear indicator that whatever I’m feeling for him isn’t anything that I should want. But I’m nothing more than a game in his eyes. Even so, might as well hit his buttons as hard as he’s smacking mine. “No, I’m not.”

“Asher,” Elliot says, his playful demeanor is nowhere in sight, masked by annoyance as he pushes an unwavering Asher. “Cut the shit, Asher. She’s had enough.”

“Yes. I’ve had more than enough of your shit.” My chest is rising and falling as I stare at Asher, who doesn’t budge when the first period bell rings. His fierce eyes penetrate me just as they had each time I’d closed my eyes last night, questioning if he would appear in my bedroom. There’d been a moment where I’d wished he would, just so I’d know where he was instead of wondering if he was lurking in the shadows.

“Asher.” Elliot manages to wedge in between us as Asher steps back. I watch as they walk away with Elliot telling him something that I can’t hear.

I should be terrified of Asher Hastings, my own personal Hades. Instead, I want to return the torment he is bestowing upon me, infuse myself as deep in his twisted world as he has mine. Desiring him—that is what petrifies me. The sooner I’m out of this place, the better. Two days is too long. Today is my last day, and I’m never returning to this craziness.

Never.

17

My last meal … sounds dramatic, yeah, but it’s such a relief. The last time I’ll be sitting at the wooden picnic table while a maniac scowls at me from a distance. I’d considered sitting on the other side of the table with my back to him but the thought of not seeing where he is freaks me out more than his exasperating looks.

Looking down at my phone, I scroll through my texts. No new ones, not even from Haley. She hasn’t called either. My eyes slowly look up to see the devious glare on me.

He did something. He had to.

Haley and I have celebrated our birthdays together for as long as I can remember. There’s no way she forgot. What if something else is wrong? I’ve already lost my dad. I can’t lose her too.

I’m typing another text to Haley as Victoria takes a seat across the table. She doesn’t say a word, flipping open a textbook, she begins studying. What a relief, but I can’t help but notice her usually flawless appearance is off today. There’s puffiness under her red, swollen eyes when she looks up, catching me studying her.

“What?”

“Everything okay?” I ask. She feels just as shut off as I am, but it’s my last day. The whole fourth day of friendship, I guess I can at least ask her if she is all right.

“Fine.” She resumes her studies.

Something is definitely off. She isn’t touching her tray of food, instead keeping intent on the math book before her.

I don’t push, it’s not my place, and I know better than anyone, pushing isn’t the way to reach someone. Scrolling through my phone, I enjoy the silence of company even if she’s struggling as much as I am. How messed up is that?

* * *

Scribbling useless notes for the upcoming safety text, I keep my head down. I’m actually going to miss the smell of pine. Maybe Edgewood has a woodshop class I can sign up for.

“Hey, do you have plans tomorrow night?” Grant pokes my arm with his pencil as I look up.

“Yes.” Getting the hell out of here.

“Oh,” he says, looking back down to his notebook. “If anything changes, there’s a party that should be fun.”

“I’ll pass.” Even if I didn’t have plans, a party around here doesn’t sound appealing.

“We could always grab a bite to eat or catch a movie if you want.”

I keep writing for a second before looking up.

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll be around this weekend.” Or after I should add, but for some reason, I want to hold back that information. I’d rather slip away without announcing it. There’s no need to advertise the fact that I’m leaving.

“Maybe another time.” He smiles before resuming his notes.

The final bell rings, and I’m relieved that the school day is officially over.