Corrupt(31)

The hat spilled off my head, falling to the ground and freeing my ponytail. I ran through the boxing gym, not giving a shit who saw me, and pulled open the next door, wiping away the tears as I dashed into the hallway and down the stairs.

But then I crashed into another person halfway down, and I stopped, jerking my head up and my insides going cold.

“Kai?” I nearly whispered, stunned to see him.

And confused.

Damon was here. Kai was here. Was Will as well? Were they all in Meridian City? I hadn’t been certain if Michael even kept in touch with them while they were in jail, but it was obvious now that he had.

Kai cocked his head and took his hand out of his black pants, placing it on my arm to stable me. But I pulled my arm away.

He stared at me, his white shirt and black suit coat neatly pressed, making him look just as good-looking as ever, although much more muscular than the last time I’d seen him.

I heard hard footsteps behind me and jerked my head around, seeing Michael come around the corner.

They were all together again?

I shot around Kai, continued down the stairs, and grabbed my bag off the floor before dashing out the door. Michael was one thing, but I didn’t want to be around his friends.

“Rika!” I heard Michael yell behind me.

But the door closed, cutting him off, and I raced off the steps, the cool rain hitting my hair, face, and arms.

I hooked the bag over my head and ignored the valet attendant holding an umbrella out for me. “Need a cab, miss?”

I shook my head and turned right, heading down the sidewalk as light droplets covered my arms.

“Get my car!” I heard a bellow behind me and turned to see Michael barking at the attendant.

He then turned, locking eyes with me, and I spun back around, hurrying away from him.

“Stop!” he ordered.

I pivoted on my heel, walking backward and crying out, “I’m gone! Okay? What more do you want?”

Turning around again, I hurried along the sidewalk.

But then Michael grabbed my bag strap and yanked it over my head, my neck twisting as he pulled it off.

I jerked around. “What the hell are you doing?”

He just walked away from me, though, carrying my bag as he stepped up to his car, the valet attendant handing him his keys.

Michael swung open one of the back doors and tossed my bag in, my phone and house keys with it, and stepped up to the front passenger-side door, pulling it open.

“Get in!” he demanded, anger written all over his face.

I breathed hard, shaking my head. What the f*ck? I was half-tempted to beg the manager for a new set of keys and go buy a new f*cking phone, just to show him.

But my books were in there, my class schedule, not to mention the birth certificate and immunization records that I’d had to let the admissions office make copies of after I’d left my advisor earlier.

I scowled, the tears gone and rage in its place.

Stepping up to the car, I jumped into the passenger’s seat and yanked the door out of his grasp, closing it on my own. As soon as I saw him round the front of the car, making his way for the driver’s side, I twisted around, grabbed my bag out of the backseat, and pushed open the car door, darting out.

I didn’t make it far.

Before my ass was even off the seat, Michael’s hand crashed into my shoulder, grabbing my collar and hauling me back in.

I cried out, but he swiped the bag away and tossed it into the backseat once more.

“Mr. Crist, can I call for help?” The attendant appeared in my open door, sounding concerned.

Michael’s hand was on my collarbone, holding me to the seat, and my face started to crack again as tears pooled.

“Sir.” The attendant reached for me, concern on his face. “The young lady…”

“Don’t touch her,” Michael growled. “Close the door.”

The attendant’s mouth sat agape for a moment, looking like he wanted to argue, but he just looked at me and eventually backed away, shutting the door.

“I told you I didn’t need a ride home,” I gritted out. “You wanted me gone, so let me leave!”

He started up the car, the muscles in his neck flexing and his hair glistening with rain. “Last thing I need is my mother bitching, because you went crying,” he spat out.

My chest rose and fell, fury boiling under my skin as I turned around and planted my knees underneath me, leaning over to his side of the car.

“I’ve got more mettle than you give me credit for,” I yelled, “so you can go f*ck yourself!”

He darted out, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and yanking me in. I whimpered, feeling the burn in my scalp from his fingers fisting in my hair.

“What do you want from me? Huh?” he asked, breathing hard and glaring at me. “What do you see in me that’s so f*cking fascinating?”

I trembled, just holding his eyes. What did I see in him? The answer was so easy, I didn’t even have to think about it. It was the same thing he saw in me all those years ago down in the catacombs.

The hunger.

The need to break away, the desire to find the one person on the planet that would understand me, the temptation to go after all things they tell us we can’t have…

I saw me, and through all the times growing up that I felt alone or like I was searching for something I couldn’t put into words, I didn’t feel so lost when he was around.