Page 42 of Alamort

The piercing stares from the Demons sitting at the table consume my mind, as well as the hundreds of onlookers who wait with bated breath. Sensing the shift in the air, a menacing presence settles behind me. My senses go on high alert at the sudden prickling sensation at the base of my neck. The Demon’s action has caused an energy shift that’s emitting a nearly equal amount of animosity as my father.

As he moves my hair to one side, exposing me. I shiver from his freezing hands. He gives off a predator-like aura and I’m trapped like a prey in a standoff. Running would only spur him into action. While I search for a spot to focus on in the cafeteria, I become captivated by the refreshing aroma of crisp linen. Crew.

Softly, his lips brush against my cheek. “I want you on your hands and knees.”

Initially, I thought he was being sexual. The guy I sit next to in psych class is now deliberately trying to make my life miserable by publicly requesting a blow job in front of our classmates.

“Crawl to Bennett.” I jerk back like I’ve been slapped. My cheeks heat and I don’t hesitate.

“Go fuck yourself.” Pulling myself away, he manhandles me, grabbing ahold of my arm that still aches from Oscar’s unwanted hands. Gritting my teeth and staring straight towards an exit. It’s only a couple of feet away. It would be relatively easy to leave.

“Crawl.” He demands shoving me back in front of him. The way he says it is nonnegotiable.

“No.”

Before I can escape, he pulls my back flush to his front, leaving no room for movement. I can’t stand it when other people put their hands on me, and it seems like that’s all that’s been happening this week. It provokes an itching sensation on my skin while a sweat breaks across my body. My eye twitches. Trying to find my only friend in this chaotic mess, I notice River and Saint standing side by side. He turns her to face me and Crew.

A stoic expression has replaced Saint’s usual sunny demeanor. Absent are this trademark dimples, and his eyes have taken on a darker hue of blue. His usual open demeanor has disappeared. His straightened spine gives him an inch growth that is impossible to ignore. He looks wrong, wicked and evil. One arm is thrown over River casually, as if they’re old friends when their faces read the opposite. She looks scared. Folding in on herself, she crosses her arms over her chest, creating a defensive barrier. Saint only slightly shifts, showing off a narrow knife pushing into where River’s lung would be located. What the fuck is happening right now?

“Or…?” Asking for clarification on the escalating situation.

“Or I’ll make sure he stabs your little friend and let you watch as she suffocates from the blood filling her lungs. Then you will know the loss of a friend, too. Crawl!” he bellows. When I go to open my mouth to ask what the fuck he’s talking about, he kicks the back of my knee, making it buckle. The stone floor is unforgiving as my knees smack against its rocky texture. My breathing comes in pants. Our audience is blurring along with the edges of my vision. River lets out a resounding shriek, her white button-up shirt stained with seeping blood. Her eyes plead for me to help her. And I can’t.

Tossing my bag in River’s direction, I steel myself. Wishing more than anything this was Hogwarts, and I was a witch soI could burn him to death with my glare alone. That doesn’t happen, but I would find a way.

When my palms touch the cool ground, the sensation of humiliation spreads through me, burning my cheeks. My arms tremble with a shaky weakness, as if I might faint at any moment. Alternating, lifting one arm and the opposite knee, and then repeat on the other side. The length of this crawl of shame looks distorted. Each stride I take makes it look longer. I keep my head raised but my gaze is down. I can’t stomach the incessant giggling, the constant sound of video recordings, and the hushed conversation that fills the room.

With my attention focused on Bennett’s coal black slacks, I stop, instinctively grabbing his knee to steady myself as I rise. My grip tightens, my fingers curling into claws, desperate to draw blood like he did to River. He may not hold the knife to her right now, but he’s every bit as guilty as Saint. They all are.

His eyes narrow, knowing my intentions. He tsks at me like a petulant child that needs to be reprimanded. “Sit.” Fury courses through my veins. I want to kill him and his brothers. Rip his eyeballs out and cut that condescending smile off of his face. River yelps and I release my grip on his knee, sitting on my heels.

“Good girl.” His eyes darken at my obedience as his hands pats my head like he’s praising a dog. From the left of Bennett, something gooey hits my ribs, followed by Amber’s cackle. Icy hands encircle my throat, placing something around it with a click locking it into place. My hands strain against the unyielding choker, refusing to budge, no matter how hard I pull.

“Every bitch needs a collar.” A chair scrapes against the stones before both sets of feet leave me on the ground, hyperventilating. Panic rises and fear takes hold. Get it off, get it off! I can’t breathe. In and out, in and out. My vision blackens atthe edges before someone sits in front of me. Strong arms scoop me underneath my legs, while another supports my back.

“God damn it, Carter.” The only thought is I want out of his arms. It’s too much touching. My demons are nipping at my heels, begging to have a turn.

“Please,” I whisper to whoever is carrying me. “Put me down.” The walking ceases, but the arms stay banded around me. “Put me down!” My anger comes back in full force. The person gently sets me on my feet. For once, someone is listening to what I’m saying.

“Thank you.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t even thinking. Are you okay?” Nodding. What is he going to do if I say “No”? Nothing.

“What happened out there?” The athletic shorts and school crewneck give away who it is before I reach his face. His dark eyes are filled with concern. Coach Riley stands in an empty hallway with me, while his thin lips are tipped into a confused frown. Even though he’s not conventionally attractive, the baseball cap adds an air of anonymity to his appearance. Someone I’d pass on the street and not be able to point out again.

“What does it look like?” I scoff. Where were the teachers at, anyway? Is he supposed to believe River was held at knifepoint while I had to crawl to Bennett in front of the entire school, then be collared like an animal? Doubtful.

“I just wanted to check on you. I noticed you caught the eye of the founder’s adoptive sons. My intentions were to warn you, but I can see that I’m a little too late.” He grimaces, obviously staring at my new accessory.

“Yep. Consider me warned. See you in class.” The gym is the opposite way from where he took me, in the other direction.

“Priya, let me walk with you.” Okay? That’s not odd. We’re usually cool in gym class, but that’s as far as that’s ever gone. “I care about you. And I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

He cares about me? This man knows nothing about me. I attempt to read his intentions. My bullshit-o-meter needs calibration because I cannot tell what’s real and not.

“I mean, as I do all my students.” Amending what he said. To know, he thought, he needed to clarify intrigues me a little. I’ll bite, but only because I don’t want to be caught alone in the hallway again. I learned my lesson. Standing a little too close for comfort, we head toward the gym, talking about his lesson plans and his home life. He mentions his parents divorced three years ago, and he has a younger sister. The way he talks about her reminds me of Addison. I need to text her.

Opening one of the many oak doors that leads up a winding flight of stone steps, I follow after him. The clicking of my heels is loud in the old, confined, stone hallway.

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