Until You (Fall Away, #1.5)(86)

He saw her like that.

My fists balled up, ready to slam him to the ground.

But… why would Madoc have this video?

And then another thought occurred to me.

“Who else has seen this?” I growled, ready to either throw up or thrown down.

“Um, everybody,” he spat out sarcastically. “You didn’t send this, then?”

“Of course I didn’t send this! We didn’t record a sex video. Jesus Christ!” I hollered and vaguely noticed students around us hauling ass outdoors when they should’ve been in class.

He looked down. “Well it came from your phone.” He spoke softer.

I closed my eyes. No, no, no…

“Tate might’ve got this video. Shit.” I started for the stairs, knowing she was on the third floor for French, but Madoc grabbed me by the inside of my elbow.

“Brother, she’s already gone.” He shook his head, and my stomach plummeted.

My phone was missing, and someone had sent a video of Tate and me to the whole damn school from my number.

“Jared!”

I turned and saw Sam running down the hall, jerking his thumb to the double doors leading outside.

“Tate’s trashing your car, man!” he shouted, breathless.

Madoc and I didn’t wait. We charged out the double doors only to see a crowd gathering around my Boss.

Tate.

I couldn’t see much, but I saw her swinging and felt the sharp slash at my chest every time the metal weapon in her hands hit my car.

She was losing it.

How many times could she be humiliated before she crumbled?

How many times could she be hurt before the damage was irreparable?

“Tate, stop it!” I grabbed her from behind before she brought the crowbar back down.

I had no idea what the damage was, but I didn’t care.

She twisted away from me, and spun around to face me.

And that’s when I saw it.

The end.

The death in her eyes. The absence of emotion. The surrender of everything good between us that we’d built this past week.

She believed I’d sent that video to the whole school. She believed I’d wanted her to hurt again.

“Tate…” I tried to speak but couldn’t.

She didn’t look angry or sad.

She’d given up on me.

And I was so paralyzed by that realization, I barely heard her threat.

“Stay away from me, or it’ll be more than your car getting busted up next time.”

She walked away, and the crowd around me hushed, but I had nothing to say.

I had no f*cking clue how I was going to fix this.

Youth guidance counselor?

Yeah, right.





“Give me your phone,” I ordered Madoc as I made my way through the crowd of hushed whispers and nosy-f*ckin’-invasive eyes.

“Man, just leave her alone for now,” he groaned.

All these damn people. Their eyes were on me, and there were even some hanging out the school’s windows. Everyone had seen this, and someone had probably shot a video of Tate tearing up my car.

My car. I groaned. I couldn’t even look at it.

“Phone. Now.” I held out my hand after we’d gotten some space.

He plopped it down in my hand.

“I’m going to look for her.” I started dialing Tate’s number. “You stay here and go talk to the principal. Make sure she doesn’t get in trouble for this.”

Principal Masters was scared of Madoc’s father, and thank God for that. Mr. Caruthers wasn’t just a lawyer. He was the guy whose cases were studied in law schools.

His weight kept us out of trouble, and now Tate was going to keep her record clean, too.

I dug in my pocket for my keys.

“They’re going to know about the video, Jared. He’ll keep her out of trouble, but he’ll call her dad.”

Shit.

“Fuck!” I growled, shutting up everyone around me.

Girls squealed and others backed away.

That’s when I noticed I still had an audience, and for the first time in weeks, felt the need to hit shit.

“All of you,” I bellowed, pointing my finger around me in a circle, “erase that video from your f*cking phones! Now! If I see anyone with it, you’re dead! Bitches included.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Madoc ran his hands over his face. “Are you trying to get arrested?”

Fuck ‘em all.

“If she shows up, for any reason, get a phone and call me.” And I turned around and climbed into my nearly broken car.





I drove around for about an hour before I worked up the courage to call her father. He might hear it from the school, but he needed to hear it from me first. I’d been calling and texting Tate non-stop, but it time to face the music.

Tate’s dad picked up on the first ring.

“Hello?” he asked, confusion filling his voice. I had Madoc’s phone, and he didn’t know the number.

“Mr. Brandt? It’s Jared.”

“Jared?” he blurted out. “What’s wrong?”

I almost laughed.

Mr. Brandt and I texted. If I was calling, then he knew something was up.

“Tate’s fine,” I assured him right away, but it felt like a lie. Physically, she was okay. “But something happened.” I paused and then spitted it out. “It’s probably a good idea for you to come home as soon as possible.”