CHAPTER FOURTEEN
1113 Words
CHLOE
In our house, the unwritten rule was simple: avoid any serious conversation for at least forty-eight hours. It had been two days since the explosive row between Edward and my father, and the silence was heavy, stretching from us to our parents.
I could see the strain on Kate. She was acting as if everything were normal, probably because she was terrified of explaining to my dad why her son was acting like a possessive, growling Alpha. And my father? He was staying quiet because, for the first time in his life, I think he was genuinely afraid. He had married Kate knowing she had an heir, but he hadn't expected a young man who radiated that kind of terrifying authority.
As for me and Edward, the silence was just our routine. He wasn't one for words, and frankly, I didn't want to talk about it either. Sunday had been a blur of internal questions, and now it was Monday—the final day of my period.
At lunchtime, Edward told me to stay in the classroom while he went to get me "supplies." I didn’t argue. I was actually starting to adore the "princess treatment" he was lavishing on me. This had been the most bearable month I’d ever had, simply because he was there, anticipating every cramp and craving.
I sat at my desk, watching through the window as his unmistakable sports car roared out of the school gates. He was gone to run errands for me, and for a moment, I felt safe.
But the second his car disappeared, the atmosphere shifted.
"So good to see you alone, without your little bodyguard," a voice drawled.
My heart sank. Evan.
"Evan, please, not today," I said, my voice flat.
"If not today, then when?" He swaggered over and perched on the desk right in front of me, forcing his way into my personal space. "I've given you the space you requested. Not because I wanted to, but because you asked."
"Are you sure?" I challenged, my irritation masking my nerves. "Was it because you respected my decision, or because of Edward?"
His jaw tightened; I’d clearly hit a nerve. "Whatever the reason, it doesn't matter now. I'm here for my answer."
"The answer is still no, Evan. Why would I go out with a bully like you?"
The reaction was instant. Evan’s hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking my head back so hard I gasped. The few students left in the room finally looked up, but they stayed frozen.
"Call me a bully again and see exactly what a bully will do to you," he hissed.
"You're already acting like one," I managed to mutter, clawing at his hand. He wouldn't let go. He leaned in, seething that even my "guard dog" wouldn't save me from his wrath.
"Then why did you wait for him to leave before you attacked her? Why not do that when he was with her?"
The new voice stopped Evan cold. His grip loosened as he spun around. It wasn't Edward. It was Edgar.
I watched, stunned, as Edgar stepped into the room. He wasn't supposed to be seen with me—Edward had been very clear about that—but here he was, looking entirely unbothered. The classroom erupted into whispers.
Edgar closing the distance, his eyes cold. "You're surprised. I like that," he said to Evan. "A bit of advice: leave this classroom before her little bodyguard catches you. And trust me, he's closer than you think."
But Evan was blinded by his own bruised ego. He used to be the top dog here, and seeing everyone switch their devotion to the new guys had driven him mad. Edgar didn't force him out; instead, he seemed to be setting a trap, mocking Evan for needing "permission" to talk to me.
"In fact, why do you need his permission?" Edgar muttered with a sly look. "It's not like they're dating or anything."
That was the spark Evan needed. He turned back to me and violently grabbed my hand, trying to pull me out of my seat. I fought against him, but he was too strong.
I heard Edgar whispering something under his breath. It was French.
"Sept... Huit... Neuf..."
The murmurs in the hall were getting louder. Evan thought it was because of him, but I knew better.
"Dix."
The door didn't just open—it felt like the room exploded. Edward barrelled in, a tidal wave of pure, unadulterated fury. Before Evan could even react, Edward had him by the throat. He slammed him onto the mahogany floor and started hitting him, his fists moving with a speed that wasn't human.
I stood up, my hands shaking. "Edward! Stop!" I screamed, but he was gone. He was consumed by a primal jealousy I couldn't understand.
"I told you not to touch her, didn't I?" Edward’s voice was a raw, guttural growl.
"Why?" Evan wheezed, blood pooling in his mouth. "What are you to her? You should be chuffed that your sister is getting attention..."
I felt the air leave the room. I looked at Edgar, pleading for help. Finally, Edgar lunged forward to pull Edward off. "Take it easy, mate. He's not worth your time."
"Edgar, get off me! Let me teach this fool a lesson and show him exactly what I am to her!" Edward roared. He reached down, grabbed Evan’s hand, and snapped three of his fingers.
The shriek that left Evan’s throat was terrifying. Two teachers burst in, screaming for order, but Edward didn't even acknowledge them. He just looked at Evan one last time. "Next time, I'll break all your fingers, your right hand included."
"Edward, to my office now!" a teacher demanded.
Edward didn't move toward the office. He moved toward me. He took my hand—his grip firm, possessive, and warm—and led me out of the classroom. My feet felt like lead as we dragged past the crowd of staring students.
We reached the car, and he opened the door for me. I got in, unable to find my voice. Edgar and Sarah jogged up and piled into the back. Without a word to the teachers or anyone else, Edward floored it, the engine roaring as we zoomed off school grounds.
He didn't care about the punishment. He didn't care about the school. He only cared that he had me back.
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