Page 152 of Satan's Spawn
I’d sure prefer that pain over this.
“What the hell happened?” I bury my face in my hands, feeling Archer’s hand rubbing my back.
“We told you, Bex, you can’t trust him.”
But they don’t see what I see in Crayton.
They don’t know what he’s like when he’s vulnerable.
It’s the most honest response I’ve ever witnessed.
“Get me out of here,” I mumble to them both when Mr. Beckett asks if I’m alright.
So they do, Archer and Hendrix walk arm in arm with me to my next class, and continue to do this for the rest of the day until I finally make it back to my dorm and bury myself underneath my blanket.
* * *
The next fewdays are pure torture to say the least.
Although Saint, Riggs, and Levi have pretty much kept up the tempo, Crayton has disregarded me completely.
I should be happy, he gave back my medication.
I should be grateful, I no longer have to keep up with his work—I know this because Saint came to pick up his computer and books the same day.
I should also be relieved because he hasn’t even shared the recording he has of me.
So why am I none of these things?
Why does the twisted part of mewantto go back to doing these things?
Because then I can go back to being relevant to him, I guess.
It’s two days before my birthdayandthe homecoming dance, and I’m looking forward to neither.
Especially since I found out Mom is coming to chaperone.
I’m slamming the door of my gym locker when I hear giggling in the row behind mine.
“He told me she’s got a rotten twat, too.” Alexis says through a cackle. “Bitch couldn’t possibly believe Crayton was actually interested in her. So fucking pathetic.”
Anger rumbles through me like a storm as my eyes slide to Hendrix, who’s also listening to the bitch.
“Looks like the Shore Whore lost her mojo.” Annalie pipes out.
My hands squeeze to fists at my sides, all of the pent up rage from this week overflowing like a damn river.
“Fuck this.” I march toward the end of our row and make a quick turn, feeling Hendrix right on my tail as I stop in front of the Twat Squad.
“What the fuck is your problem?” I glare razors at Alexis, who looks as if she’s been itching for me to confront her.
“Oh, nothing.” She shrugs, still in her bra and underwear, and damn do I hate how nice her body is. “I was just updating the girls on your pathetic attempt at landing Crayton.” She chuckles under her breath, and so do her friends. “A little birdie even told me you had to beg him to touch you.”
Tears threaten my eyes, and I can’t tell if it’s from anger or hurt. Did Crayton really tell her about us?
It could easily be a typical dig, but if it isn’t…
I blink away the thought as I take a step toward Alexis, and her daring expression heightens. “Wow, you finally did it.” I clap my hands, mocking her. “You can finally go back to being Crayton’s ‘My Size Sex Doll’.”
