See No Evil (Brotherhood Trilogy #1)(14)

Snatching the pads off the floor, I go to put them on and am hit in the face with a neck guard, followed by two shin guard bullets to my stomach.

“What the f—?”

Kade’s laughter cuts off my F-bomb. My gaze shoots across the room to spot Chris fighting a smile as he turns and starts handing out gear to the other guys on the team.

I let it slide with a grin.

It’s nice to see the guy show a little attitude.

Maybe he’s not such a weak loser after all.





#9:

What’s The Point?



Christiana



I pick at my food, pushing the beans around my plate. I force two more mouthfuls in before giving up. It’s damn hard to eat with a belly full of knots. The dining hall is pretty much empty. I was late, thanks to Coach making me clean out the stinky locker room. He joked that all this work is training for the next Gauntlet run.

I had to resist the urge to bite back that I wouldn’t be here for it.

Hopefully.

I still don’t know the pre-trial date, but it can’t come fast enough.

I’ve been at Eton for four days. That’s it.

Feels like an eternity.

Grabbing my tray, I slide it into the trolley and head out of the cafeteria. It’s Friday night, which means we’re allowed to do anything we like. Apparently juniors and seniors are allowed off campus—unsupervised—until ten o’clock, but that rule doesn’t apply to me.

Pulling in a breath, I head for the outside walkway, taking the long route to my room. All I feel like is a steaming hot bath. All I’m gonna get is a pokey dark room and… I don’t even know. I’m too depressed to do anything but lie on my bed.

Unfortunately lying on my bed makes my mind wander, and I never like where it goes.

Running a hand over my ear, I scratch the hairs at the nape of my neck and then jerk to a stop.

“Hey, Chris.” Ivan’s leaning against the wall, his voice dripping with malice. He’s dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. If he wasn’t such an asshole, I’d think he looked pretty good. He’s obviously ready to head into the small town three miles down the road. But not before he deals with me…again.

I glance at his buddies snickering beside him and I take a step back.

Droplets of hot foreboding hit my face, soaking into my skin and making my heart pound.

I clench my jaw and put my head down, hoping to shuffle past the group of idiots.

My skin is on fire. I can’t move fast enough.

“Where are you going, little piggy?” He shoves my shoulder.

I’m propelled back but don’t make a move to retaliate.

He wants to make me squeal. That’s what he warned me last time.

“You squeal on me like a freaking pig?” Thunder punch to the nose. “I can make you squeal, boy. I can make you cry like a frickin’ baby…and I’m gonna have fun doing it.”

A teacher rounded the corner before he could do any damage the first time. Ivan the Terrible disappeared behind the fake Ivan. The one who helped me off the floor and checked that I was okay. The one who explained to the teacher that I get bloody noses sometimes and offered to take me to the nurse.

I mumbled I was fine and fled.

I want to do the same thing tonight, but I’m surrounded on all sides.

There’s no teacher.

Just me and a circle of brainless thugs.

Be strong.

Stoic.

You’re here for a reason.

To get the shit beaten out of you, my sarcastic brain taunts me. Laughs at my pitiful plight.

I’m prey, a zebra surrounded by a pride of lions.

“I don’t want any trouble,” I murmur.

“You don’t got any choice.” Ivan steps into the ring and shoves me back. I stumble and fall straight into a wall of arms. They push me forward and I trip at Ivan’s feet. He fists my shirt and hauls me back up.

“You gonna scream for help?” His eyes glint. “You gonna squeal again?”

My nostrils flare.

His eyes remind me of another. A killer of the innocent. A man who deserves to burn.

Without thinking, I lash out, slapping Ivan across the face.

He flinches in surprise, then goes still. His expression is almost comical. He looks incredulous, mystified, indignant.

That’s right. Boys don’t slap; they punch.

I ball my fingers into a fist and strike out again, but he flicks my arm aside and punches me in the face.

His fist is fast and powerful, knocking me off my feet. I cry out and land with a thud, my palms slapping against the concrete floors. I’m hauled up by the back of my shirt.

Thunder punch to the belly.

I grip his arm, panic seizing me as I fight for air.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe.

He flicks me off him and I drop like a rag doll. Weird noises are coming out of me.

I still can’t breathe.

Guys are laughing, insulting, snickering. It’s all fuzzy. I can’t hear what they’re saying. My ears are ringing.

“Shit. Go! Go!”

Scuffling feet. I’m alone again.

Clomping shoes.

No, I’m not.

Forcing myself up, I limp and stumble as fast as I can, reaching the stairwell door just as Dean Hancock rounds the corner. I don’t want him to see me. I can’t squeal on Ivan again, and my brain’s not coherent enough to make something up.