Path of Destruction (Broken Heartland, #2)(12)

“That’s enough, Raquel,” the teacher admonished her with a sharp glare. “If you’re struggling to comprehend the questions on the quiz, I can send Hayden over to help clarify them for you.”

“Oh, I’ve got a few things Mr. Prescott could clarify for me. Like his inexplicable interest in this hayseed hillbilly who doesn’t even know how to work a pencil.”

The jab was spoken too low for the teacher to hear, but it sent several searing gazes in Ella Jane’s direction. The heat of being watched spread from her toes to her face. Her breathing came in unsatisfying bursts that she struggled to control.

Hayden walked over and took the seat behind Raquel. Ella Jane couldn’t hear what he said. Something about Cameron and secrets and if she knew what was good for her.

Painfully aware of how many people were casting furtive looks in her direction, she turned the test over with a trembling hand. She couldn’t make sense of any of the small printed numbers or symbols as they blurred behind the tears flooding her eyes.

Realizing the irony of not having a pencil, she choked on a laugh that bordered on hysteria.

Screw this.

She didn’t want to be here. Didn’t have to be here. And she agreed with Streaks. She didn’t belong here, had no idea why Hayden Prescott had ever been interested in her. She wished he hadn’t. She wished with all her might that she could go home, go to bed, and start the summer over—managing to avoid him and keep her brother alive.

Standing abruptly, she ignored the shocked stares on the sea of faces around her.

“Miss Mason?” Coach McDermott’s eyes were wide with alarm. “Something I can help you with?”

Nope.

No one could help her. No one could bring him back. No one could rewind life.

Shaking her head, she started to step around her desk. Coach McDermott’s voice stopped her briefly.

“Miss Mason, may I remind you that the choices you make in the classroom will determine the rest of your life?”

The rest of your life.

The words echoed in her head.

Kyle had worked so hard. School hadn’t come easy for him like it had to her—he’d had to study twice as much, stay up late into the night after getting up early to mow lawns for the family business, and bust his ass at football practice. The injustice of it gripped her soul and squeezed. He’d worked harder than anyone she knew, and for what? For a future that would never happen.

And this guy wanted to preach to her about some stupid-ass quiz affecting the rest of her life?

Not today, buddy.

Ignoring the stares and Raquel’s not-so-quietly muttered, “Freak,” Ella Jane pulled her test off her desk, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it in the trash can on her way out the door.

She’d only made it halfway down the hall when she heard his voice. Not Coach McDermott’s as she’d expected, but the one she didn’t ever want to hear again.

“I didn’t know,” he called out from a few feet away. “I didn’t know about your brother.”

Pulling in a deep breath, she turned to face him. He came closer, close enough to touch, but she remained motionless.

“I’m sorry, angel face. I am so damn sorry. I swear to God I didn’t know.” He braced his arms beside her head on the lockers behind her. “I would’ve done something, would’ve come to the funeral. I would’ve been there for you.”

She swallowed hard, allowing herself to indulge for just a moment. Her eyes drank in his strong jaw, flexing with the same intensity of the deep emerald gaze burning into hers.

His head tilted forward until his nose was barely a fraction of an inch from hers. “Please don’t shut me out. We should talk. There’s so much—”

“There’s nothing,” she said, surprised by the foreign sound of her own raspy voice. “It was a mistake, all of it. Just…stay away from me.”

When he stepped back, she turned away, planning to put as much distance between herself and Hayden Prescott as humanly possible. But he wasn’t going to make it that easy. His hands pulled at her hips, holding her back against his front.

“Don’t say that. Please don’t ever say that.” His voice held a plea she couldn’t ignore.

She fought the urge to look at him, knowing she would fall, just as she had all summer, for his lies again if she had to look into those eyes. This close, she could hear his breath.

“With everything going on, the memories we made this summer are all that’s getting me through,” he told her.

“Some memories are best left in the past where they belong. Let me go.” She tried to tug out of his grasp, but his strong fingers held tighter.

“Ella Jane, please. Please just listen.”

“Let. Me. Go.” Slamming the steel walls down around her heart, she glared at him over her shoulder. “You of all people know I’m not interested in being your dirty little secret. Move.”

Shoving his arm aside, she took two steps before he grabbed her arm and whirled her around to face him.

“Stop running from me, dammit. I’m done begging.”

Before she could blink, he crushed his mouth to hers.

For one minuscule second, she allowed herself to feel. Pleasure coursed through her, weakening her knees while filling her with a strength she thought she’d lost. She wanted to grab his neck, yank his hair, and pour all the pain and passion into that kiss—the hurt, the heartache, and the loss. But she couldn’t. This was the same brand of weakness that cost her everything she cared about.