Page 55 of A Taste of Torment
“You sure?” she asks, pulling back and looking me all over. “I heard someone pushed you!”
I flinch. “Who told you that?” I ask, looking to Lola, who literally told me not to say that just minutes ago.
“A bunch of people were talking about it.”
“Perfect.”
I give Janet another reassuring pat on the arm, and we walk into the cafeteria together. Most of the room doesn’t pay me any mind anymore, even today. Only a few people peer in my direction with concerned curiosity.
The room is fairly quiet but not silent.
Jarron’s expression is casual as he looks up and meet my stare, and I try my best to keep my expression neutral. I really don’t need him to make a scene over this.
His gaze darts to my shirt then back up, and the room chills in an instant. Every voice quiets as his magic settles over the space. I stop, the hair on my arms standing up straight.
“Go,” I whisper to Janet and Lola. I’d be royally pissed if he acted out and hurt them. His reputation can take a dump if he’s going to hurt people who care about me to keep it.
Jarron stands slowly, muscles tense. The room darkens. Like an all-consuming cloud is rolling past the sun.
He walks toward me, and I swear I can hear every pounding heart. Every terrified whimper as Jarron marches up the aisle until he’s standing over me.
His eyes are pinned to mine. His fingers wrap gently around my chin, and he leans down. For a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, which makes no sense at all. Even so, my stupid, stupid heart flutters.
“What happened?” he asks.
I pull back from his grasp, looking down at the tiny spot of blood on my white shirt. “I don’t know. I just fell.”
“Bull shit,” he spits.
I roll my eyes, my stupification gone. “I’m not lying. I don’t know. I was walking, then I wasn’t.”
He straightens, and turns his burning gaze to the gawking crowd. “Who did this?” His voice is loud and quiet at the same time. Like a whisper magically amplified.
Several gasps ring out.
“Someone knows, and I’m going to find out.”
No one moves. No one speaks.
“It’s not a big deal,” I whisper, ignoring the continued fluttering in my chest. Nope not supposed to be enjoying this. They all fear me right now—one flick of my finger, and I could destroy any one of their lives—and something about that power has always gotten under my skin. It’s not that I want to cause someone pain, but knowing I can? It’s intoxicating. Stupid, but it’s my vice.
I know the kind of supernatural I’d be, and that’s one of the reasons I didn’t want to be around them. I couldn’t even be mad when they took advantage of my weakness. I’d do the same.
His gaze lightens. “It is a big deal,” he tells me, then leans in to murmur. “If they think they can get away with harming you, it puts us both in danger. I won’t allow it.”
Right, because this is more about his reputation than me. I shake my head. “If I knew who did it, I’d tell you.”
He nods and then turns to face the bulk of the crowd. “Let me make one thing very clear,” he says, violence in his tone, “she is mine. Anyone who dares touch her will suffer for a very long time.”
He lets the threat linger, tightening over everyone in the room.
Then, he releases his magic altogether.
Everyone relaxes at once, and chatter rises into a crescendo as Jarron holds his hand out for me. He’s still tense as we walk back to the table, his expression very clearly livid.
“Stupid bitch deserved it,” someone says, her voice ringing out much clearer over the chaos than I assume was intended, and once again, the room stills.
I jerk my attention to Jarron—his eyes are pitch black, his expression an angry calm. It unnerves me. His body remains unmoving, but after three beats, a scream pierces the air.
