Defiant Princess (Boys of Oak Park Prep #2) - Callie Rose Page 0,41
That I was trash. That I would fuck—have fucked—anything that moved. Once you put something out in the world, you can’t take it back. You can’t just snap your fingers and undo it. And you guys put a lot of fucking effort into that video. Into making it all look real. Are you really that surprised Oliver believed you?”
He shook his head, his lips pressing together so hard they turned white. “That’s not an excuse.”
“No. It’s not.” I didn’t look away from his intense stare. “It’s a reason. And you gave it to him.”
His face contorted in a grimace, and the angry, pulsing energy inside him spiked again. He turned on his heel, pacing across the expanse of the room. “People are fucking idiots. That’s not—”
“Not what?” I stepped forward, cutting off his path.
Cole pulled up abruptly, stopping in front of me. I had just seen him practically destroy a boy not much smaller than he was. I knew he could get through me if he wanted—he’d used his size to intimidate me before. But instead, he just stood stock still, his chest less than a foot from mine, his body rigid and taut.
“This wasn’t what I wanted,” he murmured roughly. His right hand—the one still smeared with Oliver’s blood—reached up to cradle my jaw. “It wasn’t.”
I shrugged, unable to look away from his churning blue eyes. “It doesn’t matter. It’s what happened.”
When I started to step back, a look of pain and panic flashed in his expression, and his grip tightened for just a second before he forced it to relax, his fingertips slipping away from my cheek.
His hand was still outstretched between us when I turned and walked away.
Chapter 11
As I walked down the hall toward the stairs to the first floor of the gymnasium, my legs began to shake with latent adrenaline. The entirety of the fucked up events that’d just unfolded hit me like a ton of bricks, and I sank down onto the steps, holding onto the railing and sucking in deep gulps of air like they were the only things keeping me afloat.
I could still feel the flat of Oliver’s palm against my breast, the jolt that’d gone through me like a painful electric shock at the contact. It made my skin crawl, made me feel dirty even though I hadn’t done anything wrong.
The sight of Cole punching him floated through my mind—his fist flying relentlessly, striking over and over. I’d watched, and I hadn’t tried to stop him. I hadn’t wanted to. It’d been horrible and terrifying, but somehow, oddly comforting.
A memory rose of the night I’d tended Cole’s injuries after he’d fought Preston, the boy who had talked shit about Penny. Cole’s voice had resonated with truth as he had promised me he took care of the people he cared about. And for just a moment, I had let myself wonder what my life might be like if I had someone who cared about me that much.
Someone who would level cities to protect me.
I sat on the stairs until the end of the period, and I never saw Cole pass by. I wasn’t sure what he was doing in the studio. Sitting and staring into space like I was? Taking out the rest of his aggression on the downed heavy bags?
A sudden vision of the bags lying in dismembered pieces all over the room popped into my head, and a vaguely hysterical laugh burst from my lips.
When I finally hauled myself to my feet, I was able to make it down the steps without falling. I lingered at the foot of the stairs, not wanting to field questions about why the hell I was wearing Cole’s shirt. Part of me just wanted to go back to my dorm, but I had to at least get my backpack from my locker.
The crowd of students heading out of the building thinned, and I was about to move forward when Maggie stepped into the hall. She glanced over at me, and her eyes widened.
“Talia?”
Fuck.
It was too late to shrink back and hide around the corner. I walked toward her, trying to push down the churning in my gut and put on a normal expression. I could tell the smile I attempted was more like a grimace, and Maggie’s jaw dropped in horror as I neared.
“Are you okay? What happened? There’s… blood on your face.”