I remain still as I watch Naomi’s retreating back.

Her movements are stiff at best, her legs carrying her with a force that rattles her bag and makes her short dark hair swish in the air.

She dressed differently today. Her pink dress stopping at the middle of her thighs in a girly kind of way. While I hate the idea of anyone looking at her like that, I can’t help being sucked into the view.

Even as the droplets of water slide down my chin and collarbone. Even as laughter and mockery echo in the space.

My first instinct is to run after her, catch her and kiss her. Maybe fuck her.

It doesn’t matter what I do as long as I’m near her, breathing in her peachy scent and having her by my side where she fucking belongs.

But I can’t leave when the whole campus’s attention is veered in the wrong direction. It’ll keep escalating from now on and I’m possibly the only one who can fix it.

It took fucking it up for me to step up.

So while everything in me is itching to follow after Naomi and grab her by the throat, I can’t.

The door rattles from its hinges as she slams it shut on her way out. The murmurs and jabs echo louder in the air, mixing and heightening until her name is on every fucking tongue.

My teammates are laughing like whores without clients. The cheerleaders are whispering and giggling. Brianna’s mouth is open in a shit-eating grin that I want to jam Josh’s nonexistent balls inside of.

Reina massages her temples while Lucy and Prescott have some sort of a mojo silent communication thing going on between them as they stare at each other from across the table.

Naomi’s friend, or ex-best friend, judging from the way her cheeks are streaked with tears, stands up. Probably to follow Naomi.

“Sit down, Lucy,” Brianna orders with a venomous tone. “Or else you’re out of the inner circle.”

“I don’t care about that.” Lucy’s chin trembles as she turns around.

I wipe my face with the palm of my hand and let the bottle of juice drop in my backpack. “Sit down.”

“I need to make sure she’s okay.” Lucy sniffles.

“You should’ve thought of that before the whole show took place. You might not have been present when the bet was on, but you suspected it, yet you chose to turn a blind eye because of your position and your privileges. So don’t pretend you’re all worried now that the deed is done. Shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down.”

Fresh tears flood Lucy’s cheeks as she drops to her seat with a whimper. She sniffles in that involuntary way people do when they’re flooded with emotions. Or that’s what Nate told me once as we watched a boring movie with great acting.

Prescott jumps up and stands by her side, then places a hand on her shoulder. A red hue covers his cheeks as he glares at me. “Why the fuck are you taking out your anger on her? It’s not Lucy’s fault that you accepted the bet and Naomi finally found out your intentions toward her.”

“My intentions toward her?” I repeat with mock laughter. “You couldn’t begin to figure out my intentions toward her even if you and the whole campus spent sleepless nights trying.”

“What the hell?” Brianna’s brow furrows. “It was just a bet and it’s over. The bitch finally learned her place.”

My gaze falls on her and she stiffens. I don’t even glare. People spend energy to express their anger because it’s foreign to their nature.

Not me.

All I have to do is drop the mask and let my true self shine through. I stare and allow the rage I’ve been stifling since I was six years old to pour out in somber doses.

Even my voice has the lethal, calm edge I often alter so that I don’t appear to be a psycho. “Call her that again and I’ll make sure you learn your fucking place, Brianna.”

“But she’s right. It was just a bet.” Josh comes to her rescue like the little bitch he is.

“Whether it’s a bet or a game, it’s none of your or anyone else’s business. If I catch anyone, and I mean anyone, trashing her or bullying her, I’ll fuck them up until they wish for death. And I don’t mean physically. I’ll replace the fault in their existence and screw their lives over with it so they’ll never be able to be functioning pieces of shits again.”

All the murmuring, laughter, and jabs come to a halt, and for good reason.

I’m not the type who makes idle threats.

Or any threats at all, really.

Being raised in the heart of power didn’t teach me to abuse it or to make use of it whenever necessary.

On the contrary, it made me more aware of my resources. Having that type of influence at the tip of my fingers is a guarantee, but not if exercised poorly.

I only make threats when absolutely necessary. To protect myself, for instance.

And her.

Because at some point, Naomi has become an undivided part of my being and I’d use all the power I have to make sure she stays safe.

And happy.

And fucking mine.

“Relax, dude.” Owen laughs, trying to lighten the mood. “No one will bully her.”

“Or make any bets about her again.” I meet Reina’s blue gaze.

She’s stopped drawing circles on her temple and is watching me with a slight smile. It almost appears…victorious.

What the fuck is she celebrating when Naomi is already out of reach?

“I mean it, Reina,” I say. “Fuck with me and I’ll fuck with you.”

“You can’t fuck with me, Bastian.”

“Asher is coming home this weekend, so I very much can. You’re well aware of how he loves making your life hell, so don’t put me in the fucking mood to instigate it.”

Her smile drops and she sucks in a breath. It’s not as noticeable as Bree’s huffing or Lucy’s sniffling or Prescott’s hushed soothing words, but it’s there.

Naked for my eye.

Our own queen bee has a weakness and I’ll use it to make sure she leaves Naomi in peace.

Because this might have started with a bet, but it was never the beginning of us.

And it sure as fuck isn’t going to be the end.

We have a bond now. A sacred connection that people spend their entire lives searching for.

We found it together.

I found her.

Someone who accepts me just the way I am without trying to fix me or any of that bullshit.

In fact, she gets off on my real nature as much as I get off on hers.

And there’s no way in fuck I’m letting her slip from between my fingers now that’s she’s finally close.

If I have to chase her, so be it.

I’ll run after her until she realizes there was no escaping me in the first place.

Because there’s one thing my toy doesn’t realize yet. Or maybe it’s buried too deep for her to recognize it.

She’s mine.

Body and fucking soul.

And it all started the day she got off on having me chase her in the woods.

Or maybe it started the first time I saw her three years ago when she smiled while she was crying.

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