CHAPTER NINE
1089 Words
ADINNA’S POV
“I won’t!”
The words rip out of me, louder than I intend, sharp enough to cut through the charged air of the library. It echoes off the shelves and bounces between the rows of silent books and the phones already raised to capture the scene. My heart thunders in my chest, but I keep my chin high, glaring up at Jace.
He freezes for a moment, as though the audacity of my refusal stuns him. Then his smirk returns, slow and deliberate, like a predator toying with prey.
“Are you sure,” he drawls, his voice dripping with mock amusement, “that you want to say no to me?”
I tighten my fists at my sides. “Of course I’m hella sure that I’m saying no to shining your freaking shoes.” The words come out shakily, but I force them to sound steady and fearless.
Gasps ripple through the gathering students and whispers begin to arise among them. Nobody says no to Jace. Ever.
And now I’ve done it, with my voice loud enough for every single camera in the room to hear.
Jace’s smirk sharpens. He tilts his foot forward, presenting the polished leather of his shoe as though I somehow forgot what this argument is about. “Shine it,” he says again, his tone colder now. “This is your last chance to do it.”
The weight of his stare presses down on me. I can almost feel the whole school holding its breath. My stomach twists, but I lean forward, my glare locked on his face. I gather spit on my tongue, ready to spit right at him, to show him exactly what I think of him.
But before I can, a pair of strong hands clamp down hard on my shoulders. I turn my neck in shock only to be met with Salem. His grip is like iron, crushing against my shoulders. In an instant he shoves me down, my knees slamming painfully against the stone floor.
Laughter ripples through the crowd as they begin to lift their phones higher. Screens are glowing all around me, recording every second of my humiliation. My cheeks are burning in embarrassment and tears are stinging my eyes, threatening to fall, but I grit my teeth.
Salem bends close, his breath brushing my ear. “Stay down, sweetheart” he sneers. “You look perfect on your knees.”
I want to scream. I want to tear away, but I can’t move. His strength is impossible to fight against. I bow against my will, my body betraying me while the crowd drinks it in.
Jace watches, satisfied, his eyes gleaming with triumph. Then, casually, like it’s an afterthought, he turns to the students lingering near the door.
“Fetch her friend,” he says smoothly. “Bring Riley back.”
My blood runs cold and I’m filled with an immense dread.
“No!” My voice cracks, desperation spilling out. “Don’t touch her! This is about me! Your fight is with me! Leave her out of it!”
But my words are nothing compared to Jace’s command. The onlookers surge toward the exit. Footsteps pound the floor, shouts echo as they chase Riley down. My stomach churns as dread claws at my insides.
Within moments, she’s dragged back into the library. Her hair is disheveled, her face pale with fear etched into every line. She struggles, kicking, thrashing, but the crowd overpowers her easily. They shove her forward until she collapses to her knees beside me, her hands trembling as they hit the cold stone floor.
“No, no, no…” I whisper, my heart breaking at the sight. This isn’t supposed to involve her. This is mine to endure.
Riley glances at me, her eyes wide and shining with fear. “Adinna” she starts, but her voice is cut off by a new presence.
Hunter.
He’s been silent the whole time, lurking like a shadow. But now, suddenly, he steps forward. His boots click against the stone, drawing every eye in the room. The crowd’s murmurs swell, confused, restless.
Because Hunter never involves himself. He’s the one who hangs back, who watches while Jace pulls the strings. But today is different. And I think it might have something to with our first encounter.
He stops in front of Riley. Slowly, deliberately, he lifts his shoe and presses it against her shoulder. The weight makes her flinch as the dirt on the sole smears across her cheek. She stiffens but doesn’t cry out, her jaw tight with fear.
The room buzzes with shock. A few students whisper loudly,
“What’s Hunter doing?”
“He never involves himself in things like this”
“Is he serious?”
Hunter ignores them. He crouches low, his face dropping closer to mine. His smirk is chilling, cold and cruel, his voice a whisper that slithers straight into my ears.
“Let me show you,” he murmurs, “what a real dickhead is like.”
My chest tightens and dread floods me like ice water.
He moves with sudden violence. His hand shoots out and clamps Riley’s wrist. He slams her palm flat against the stone floor, fingers splayed. The slap of skin against rock echoes through the library, sharp and final.
“No!” I scream, the word torn from my throat, raw with terror. I thrash against Salem’s grip, but it’s like being held by steel chains. “Don’t touch her! Please, don’t!”
Riley tries to yank her hand back, but Hunter’s grip is merciless. He pins her there, the bones of her wrist straining under his strength.
Then he lifts his foot off her shoulder. He raises it high, angling the heel above her outstretched fingers.
“No, stop!” My voice is hoarse now, breaking with panic. “Hunter, don’t! Please, it’s me you want! Don’t hurt her!”
But his eyes never leave mine. He stares at me as if my fear is the prize, as if Riley is nothing more than the instrument to break me. His smirk curves wider, monstrous.
The crowd has gone eerily silent now, the weight of anticipation pressing down on the room. Dozens of phones remain raised with lenses trained on us.
“Hunter!” I shriek. My voice bounces off the shelves, like a plea that feels too small against the enormity of his cruelty.
He doesn’t listen.
His boot comes down with a loud sickening crunch.
- Writer
