The Rebel of Raleigh High (Raleigh Rebels #1) - Callie Hart Page 0,94

as the scream I let out a moment ago. Another blow hits me in the temple and blackness seeps in, threatening to swallow me up in its oblivion. “Stupid bitch!” I’ve never heard anything that comes close to the rage in Jake’s voice as he grabs a fist full of my hair and yanks my head up, smashing it back down onto the tiles. “Looks like you need to learn a few lessons, Parisi. Who do you think you are? Mmm?” Again, he smashes my head down, and I open my mouth, stunned by the shockwave of disorienting pain that floods my being. “You’re nothing. Worse than nothing. You’re a piece of meat, put here on this earth for our pleasure. Don’t you know how this works, you dumb fucking cunt? Me and my boys? We’re from different stock. Purebreds. We do what we want. Say what we want. Take what we want. You should be fucking grateful we even deigned you worthy of our attention.”

He’s dripping blood onto the floor, a red, gory circular welt around the knuckle of this thumb. The sight of the wound I gave him does something to me. I should stay quiet. That’s what I should do. I should ride this out, keep my mouth shut, and hope they’ll go easy on me. Be a good possum and play dead. But…I can’t. It’s just not in me to lie down and take something like this. I will fight them every step of the way. I will kick, and scream, and bite, and I will cause as much chaos as possible, if it means that this won’t be easy for them.

“If you’re waiting for me to show gratitude,” I spit, choking on the word, “then you’re gonna be waiting a hell of a long time, Jacob Weaving. I am not nothing. I have a voice, and I will use it. I do not give you permission to touch me. Let…me…go.”

Jake’s had my arms pinned by my sides all this time. He snatches hold of my wrists and pulls them roughly up high over my head, a dangerous, malicious, crazy light in his eyes. “Hmm, that’s it, is it? Pretty Princess Silver. Too good for all of us. Too fucking special. Don’t bite. Don’t kick. Don’t scream. Spread your legs and keep your mouth shut, bitch, and we’ll see if we can make this quick.”

Setting my jaw, even though it hurts, and my teeth feel like they’re shattered, I look him dead in the eye. The drugs are still there, churning around my system, making it difficult to focus, but in this moment everything becomes crystal fucking clear. He wants more than my body from me. More than my pain. He wants my fear. He, alone, is so much stronger than me, but with Sam and Cillian thrown into the mix, I don't have a hope in hell's chance of fighting them off. They're going to do what they set out to do. I've pissed Jake off, so he is going to make this hurt. But there’s one thing I can do, one thing I can keep from him, and that’s my fear. I won’t fucking give that to him.

Jake’s sickening smirk deepens as he leers, eyes roving down to pause on my chest. “Sam, what the fuck are you doing, dude. Get over here. Take her hands. Hold her tight. Wait. Are they scissors over there?”

“A razor blade,” Sam says, holding up a blade that’s identical to the one Kacey used downstairs to cut her drugs. “You want it?”

“Yeah. That’ll do nicely.” He takes the blade from Sam in exchange for my wrists. If anything, Sam’s grip is even harsher, grinding the bones of my wrists down into the floor. It hurts. It feels fucking terrible to be so vulnerable, at their mercy, but I draw in a breath, holding it in my lungs. Then I force my face to go absolutely blank. It would take more control that I possess right now to stop pulling and straining, trying to get free, but my face I can control.

I barely even blink as Jake makes a show of holding the blade the material of the dress I borrowed from Kacey, slicing easily through the fabric. He tears and rips at it, pulling away handfuls of black, his eyes glinting with frenzied expectation. “What you staring at, Parisi? You like this after all?” he growls. In no time at all, the dress is gone. I don’t even