Home > Torment Her (Rebels At Sterling Prep #5)(8)

Torment Her (Rebels At Sterling Prep #5)(8)
Author: Caitlyn Dare

"About as good as can be expected. I'm worried she's going to run back to him."

"You can't let her do that."

"I'm fucking trying, but she won't listen to me. She barely lets me in the fucking room."

"Just give her some time. What she went through… it must have been brutal."

My fists curl and my shoulders tense as I imagine that motherfucker’s hands on my girl.

"Levi's right. You need to get up there."

Jay nods over my shoulder to one of the rings.

"I haven’t fought anyone in—"

"Yo, Daz," Jay calls, totally ignoring my argument. "Jagger wants in."

"Uh... I'm not sure I—”

"Sure thing, man.” He nods. “It's good to see you, Jagger. It’s been too damn long. I've got a slot up next if you want it."

"Um..." I hesitate, looking back to a couple of guys dancing around each other in the middle of the crowd, blood trickling down their faces and bruises marring their torsos.

"Fuck it," I say, taking off after Daz when he turns to leave.

This could be the worst fucking idea ever.

Or it could be exactly what I need.

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 

Kennedy

 

 

After an uncomfortable breakfast with Hadley, Remi, and the Jaggers, I’d quickly retreated to my room and hid for the remainder of the day.

Conner didn’t try to see me again. In fact, I was pretty sure he’d gone out as soon as the sun sank into the horizon.

I haven’t heard him come home, yet.

The silence taunts me as I lie here, staring at the ceiling. It’s been hours since I ate or drank anything. Hadley tried to bring me something earlier, but I refused to answer the door. I couldn’t take any more of their pitiful gazes, the thick silences. I knew they meant well, but it was a lot.

They’re a lot.

I’m not used to having people interested in my life.

It’s almost one in the morning, everyone will be sleeping. It’ll be safe to go down to the kitchen and help myself to a drink and a snack. Maybe one of those cookies the housekeeper baked earlier. I’d smelled them, the sugary sweet goodness wafting up the stairs. But not even the promise of home baked cookies was enough to lure me from the sanctuary of Conner’s bedroom.

Pushing the sheet off, I pull on one of the oversized hoodies Hadley left me and slip quietly into the hall. Darkness greets me, and I let my eyes adjust before tiptoeing down the stairs.

The Jaggers’ house is so big I feel lost creeping down the hall to the kitchen. It’s an impressive room, a big, open plan space that overlooks the massive yard. The pool house stands in the distance, and a pang of jealousy hits me. I’d discovered earlier that Remi and Ace stay out there.

It’s worlds away from my home in the Heights. Not that I have a home anymore. Not really. I haven’t since my aunt died and the bank took the house. Warren’s dad’s place has never felt like mine.

The light from the refrigerator is glaring as I peer inside, searching for something to eat. Grabbing a soda and some leftover chicken, I close the door and place it down on the counter when a noise catches my attention. I freeze, fear trickling up my spine.

You’re okay, I silently remind myself. You’re safe here.

“Hello?” I squeak, alerting whoever it is to my presence. The last person I expect to see enter the room is Conner.

He grinds to a halt, his eyes widening. “Kenny?” he chokes out.

It’s then that I see his face, the blood and cuts.

“Conner, what the hell?” I rush over to him, but he stops me short.

“I’m okay.”

“But you’re hurt.” God, those words twist something inside me.

“I’m okay, I promise.”

“Where were you... no, Conner.” Panic rips through me.” Tell me you didn’t go after—” I press my lips together and swallow his name.

This is bad, really fucking bad.

“I couldn’t just do nothing.” He stares at me with an intensity that sears my skin. It’s as if he’s memorizing the lines of my face.

It makes my heart clench, but then I remember how we ended up here, and any regret I feel turns to anger.

“You shouldn’t have done—”

“Don’t worry,” he spits, “I didn’t find your precious fucking Warren.”

“You didn’t?” Relief sinks into me, but it isn’t for the reason he thinks.

“I met Jay and Levi at the old warehouse out by the docks.”

“You were fighting?” Everyone knows about the underground fighting ring in the Heights. We’d followed the circuit over the years for Conner’s fights. But I thought—hoped—he’d stopped.

“I needed to burn off some steam.” His jaw tenses.

“Come on.” I take his hand, ignoring how it feels to touch him again, and lead him over to the breakfast counter. “Sit.”

He climbs onto a stool and lets out a weary sigh.

“Sore?” My eyes run over the ugly cut underneath his eye and the deep split in the pillow of his lip. He’s a mess, but it isn’t just the cuts and bruises. It’s his gaze. The sparkle is gone, and he has dark circles shadowing both of his ocean blue eyes.

“I’ll live,” he murmurs.

“First aid kit?” I ask, and he motions to the cabinet beneath the sink.

I locate it and fill a bowl with some warm water. “This might sting.” Gently, I clean the dried blood off his face, ignoring the wild flutter of my heart.

Conner sinks into my touch, the tension melting away as I work in silence to tend to each cut and graze.

I don’t need to ask him why he did it. The answer swirls around us like a storm on the horizon. He’s like this... because of me.

Because he needed to do something, anything, to feel better.

The shame I feel is almost suffocating.

When I’m done, I wash my hands and clean up the supplies. I’m about to take the first aid kit back when his hand snags my wrist. “Wait,” he breathes, the air crackling between us. “Just tell me the truth, Kenny. Tell me what happened, please.”

The pain in his voice coils around my heart, sucking the air from my lungs.

He knows.

Conner knows what happened, but he needs to hear me say it. He needs me to trust him with my truths.

But I can’t do it.

I can’t admit it out loud.

Because admitting it means it happened.

Admitting it makes me a victim, and I refuse to be that girl.

We stare at one another, and I swear I can feel his warmth wrapping around me like a blanket.

Growing up, Conner was always my protector, my knight-in-shining-armor. There wasn’t anything his touch or smile or reassuring words couldn’t heal. But we’re not those people to each other anymore.

I’m not his.

And he’s not mine.

“Conner, I—“

“Shh, Kenny.” His hand curves around the back of my neck, pulling me down until our heads are touching and our breaths mingle.

“Con...” My voice wavers, and I’m not sure what I’m asking him.

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