Page 126 of Fractured Fates
Spencer
I sprint along the path,earbuds in, beat of the music pounding in my ears.
I feel good. Coach just put me through my paces, a one-on-one that pounded every part of my body and pushed me right to my very limits. It’s quietened all that restlessness simmering in my blood.
I want this feeling to last. That’s why I’m not done yet. Despite the shaking in my legs and the exhaustion in my muscles, I’m out here running. Pushing harder and further. Maybe this is all I’ve needed.
It’s the most peaceful I’ve felt in weeks, the most peaceful since the pills stopped working and the girl started at the academy. Nothing gnawing at me, scratching at me, scraping at my insides. Just peace.
It lasts until I round the path, gravel crunching under my weight, and I feel it, that all-so-familiar tug in my gut.
Immediately all that peace vanishes like smoke on the wind. Every fiber in my body is taut. My insides alert with awareness and interest.
Shit
Pig Girl.
Does she have to ruin every fucking thing?
I force my feet to halt, even though my instincts want me running right towards her.
That’s bad.
I should turn around and run back the way I came. Try to reestablish that sense of calm.
The music continues to thump in my ears and for a minute I’m not sure if it really is the notes of the bass or my own heart. I yank out my earbuds and stay right where I am. I don’t move. Because I can hear. I can hear her laughing.
The sound is genuine and free and makes my insides buzz.
What the actual fuck?
I frown, lifting my shirt to gaze at the bruise on my abdomen. Tristan’s handiwork has helped. It’s not as large or as vivid as it was. But it’s still there. Reminding me. Of her. Of this fucked-up situation. Of what I really am.
I drop the hem of my shirt and look up.
She’s right there on the path in front of me now. I hadn’t heard her draw closer and she hasn’t seen me yet. She’s too engrossed in what she’s doing, waving her hands in front of her face and creating fluffy white clouds and bright curved rainbows. The kind of things little kids do when they first start magic school.
It’s making her smile in a way I’ve not seen her smile before. All curved cheeks and bright eyes. Excitement and pleasure flickering in her expression.
I stare at her. Transfixed, like she’s something special.
I want to knock that smile right off her face. I want to throw her into the air and slam her down hard on the ground.
I want my hands wrapped tight around her throat.
Before I know what I’m doing, I pick up my feet, running again, running at her. I’m right in front of her before she realizes, lifting her face to me in alarm.
“Don’t you–” she starts, the clouds streaking away.
I grab a hold of her throat with my right hand, my fingers right where they want to be, the thing inside me purring with pleasure.
I stare down into her face. Her expression is all outrage and suspicion.
I wait for her to grapple at my hand. She remains perfectly still, her pulse jumping against my palm.
“What are you doing?” she growls.
“This,” I tell her and then I’m leaning down to kiss the girl.
