Until You (Fall Away Series)(27)

I wasn’t into shit like that, or…I didn’t think I was. Never tried it. Might try it, I guess. You should try everything at least once.

Except crystal meth.

“No?” he challenged, peering over at me when I didn’t answer. “Well, I guess this won’t make you jealous then.”

And he pushed his chair back, scraping the legs on the floor as he rounded the table and walked towards the other side of the lunchroom. Towards Tate.

Son of a bitch.

I was going to cut off his broken dick and feed it to Madman.

My short black sleeves stretched across my biceps, and I realized I’d tensed damn-near every muscle in my body.

I watched, fuming, as Madoc approached Tate and leaned into her ear, speaking. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, of course, but I saw Tate’s back straighten and knew she was uncomfortable.

Good.

But I didn’t feel good. I seemed to get high from pressing her buttons, but I never liked it when others took it upon themselves to follow my example. When Madoc had commented on her chest last year at the party—right before she broke his nose—I’d almost cut his balls off.

Helping me taunt her at times was one thing, but talking shit about her body—and in public—got my f*cking temper up. Even I didn’t do that. If she hadn’t punched him, then I would’ve.

His hand glided down her back, and I balled my hand into a fist.

Goddammit! Didn’t we just have this talk?

Air poured in and out of my nose as I watched, unblinking, his hand fall intimately over her body and descend to her ass.

I shot out of my chair but immediately halted when Tate jerked out of her seat and grabbed Madoc by the shoulders, slamming him in the balls with her knee.

Holy shit!

I sucked in quick, short breaths, trying not to laugh at seeing my best friend fall to his knees, groaning like a wounded animal.

Tate circled him, and I sat down to watch her.

“Don’t touch me, and don’t talk to me,” she sneered. “Did you really think I would go out with you?”

He asked her out?

“I hear the girls talk,” she continued, “and contrary to popular belief, good things do not come in small packages.” Her voice was strong, like she was completely comfortable in her skin. Everyone caught the joke as she crooked her pinky finger to the amused crowd, insinuating that Madoc had a small dick.

“Thanks for the offer anyway, Madoc,” she said in a sweet sing-song voice.

Picking up her tray, she headed through the crowd, tossed away her lunch, and headed for the doors as every eye in the room followed her. Even mine.

I leaned back again, remembering how she’d cry or just leave every time Madoc or I did something. Now, it was ten year old Tate again, rocking my f*cking world.

She stopped at the double doors, and I narrowed my eyes on her as she turned around, looking straight at me. Her eyes zoned in, killing the distance between us and bringing me dead in her face, so I could smell her skin.

She was everything. She knew my game, she matched me, and she was going to be a joy to take down. Then, and only then, would I have proven that I didn’t need her or anyone else.





Mr. Sweeney, one of the deans, came through the cafeteria, wanting to know what happened, and I stepped in and explained that Madoc had fallen over a chair. Stupid lie, I know, but teachers don’t have a lot of power. If one kid claims something and others back it up, it must be true. I didn’t want Tate in trouble.

Not from anyone else but me.

Before the first afternoon class started, I met Madoc at his locker, and grabbing him by his arm, I hauled him around the corner into an empty classroom.

“Whoa!” he howled, probably surprised by my sudden appearance. “Take it easy!”

As soon as we were away from prying eyes, I twisted around and planted my fist in his gut. The skin on my knuckles stretched, but Madoc caved to the punch, and I knew his pain would be a hell of a lot worse.

Coughing and hunching over, he fell back against the wall as I hovered over him. The strange part was, I wasn’t nervous or even angry. I was a little pissed, but otherwise, I was in complete command of my actions and emotions.

He knew why he got hit, and now he knew I wasn’t bluffing about not touching Tate.

“You heard me this time, right?” I asked.

And he nodded, pinching his eyebrows together and looking nauseous as he held his stomach.

Making my way to my next class, I picked my phone out of my pocket and texted my boss that I wouldn’t be at work this afternoon. He was a friend and let me off the hook on the rare occasion I needed a surprise day off.