Page 31 of The Wallflower
His features show so much animosity as he stares into my eyes that I don't even think to lie. "It's my mother's engagement ring."
He shakes it like a bell. "But she's not dead, so why do you have it?"
The old pain of a past that never leaves wells up, and I shove it back into the hole in my chest where it belongs. "First, that's a personal question. Second, it’s none of your business."
He gives me a disbelieving look. "You think you can keep your secrets, but they belong to me now. Just likeyoubelong to me now. All of you is mine, and that means even the secrets you keep are mine. It’s fine, though. I have my own means of figuring things out."
“I suppose money can buy you all types of information,” I growl since it's my turn to get angry. Snatching the ring from his fingers, I lob it at the box so hard it bounces up and almost out again. "Now get the hell out of my room."
He leans in close enough that I can feel the heat of his body rolling into mine. He’s way too close for comfort. "Make me."
There's so much challenge in that single demand but also a plain-to-see smugness because he knows I'm incapable of making him do anything. No matter how hard I try, I can't physically move this man.
"Did you get dropped on your head as a child? Or maybe you’ve taken too many hits to the head in football? Either way, I’m not sure why it’s not connecting in your mind that I don’t want you here. I don’t want to get to know you, so why show up here and pretend everything is okay?" I lose some of my steam and deflate, stepping back to put distance between us. "Surely, this all can’t be because I stuck up for that kid. If it is, then I’m sorry. I’m asking you nicely to please leave me alone."
He raises his eyebrows and gives me a cocky grin. "Unfortunately, you put yourself on my radar by putting your nose where it didn’t belong. Every action has a direct consequence. I am that consequence, sweetheart. Now, do youthink you can say please again? I love the way it sounded coming out of your pretty mouth.”
I scrub a hand down my face, my own frustration climbing. “There are plenty of other far more willing girls at this university who would bow at your feet for a simple hello from you, but you’re choosing to pine over someone who would rather stick forks through her eyes than be in your presence.”
He shrugs. “I’d love to see that, and I already told you. I don't know what it is about you yet, but I'm not going anywhere until I figure it out."
"So fucking me in the woods was...figuring me out?"
He snorts. "You mean taking your virginity on that dirt-strewn forest floor? It was on the path to getting to know you, yes, but it’s not the only route I plan to take. Not every meeting is conventional or plays out like it does in your romance books." He leans in again, and I wish I could say that his presence only terrified me, but it doesn’t. It warms me and makes me feel seen. "Sometimes, things start off wrong or bad. Not every moment is perfect or thought out.”
“No, but there’s no point in showing interest in someone when the other person already said they don’t want anything to do with you. In fact, I think that’s grounds for a restraining order, but I could be wrong.”
Laughter escapes his lips, and it sounds nice, which is ridiculous since nothing about this psycho isnice.“You’re something else, flower.”
“I don’t want to be anything to you.”
“That's too bad since I thought about you this morning. I had to jerk off when I saw how your virgin blood stained my skin. Even now, I can still feel your wet, bloody cunt pulsing around my cock. That's all I could think about last night. I had to stop myself from breaking into your dorm and fucking you in your bed.”
He knows how to be romantic, doesn’t he?I swallow hard against both the arousal and revulsion his words inspire. “I’m glad your memory is better than mine. All I remember is pain and suffering.”
He plucks the sunglasses from my face, then reaches into his pocket to pull out something. A moment later, he replaces them with my actual glasses, the ones he took last night. "Suffering and pain? There might have been pain in the beginning, but that can’t be helped. I don’t remember you complaining, though, when I made you come so hard you saw stars.”
“We can agree to disagree, then.”
He smirks. “I like this better. I want to see your eyes."
I lean away and adjust the glasses better. What an asshole, bringing up the orgasm I had at his hands. I don’t want to be reminded of that, even if I’ve never experienced something as toe-curling as that. I’d never orgasmed like that before, not by my own hands. Now that I can see, like for real, I think it’s time for me to leave. I exit the bedroom and enter the suite, grabbing my ready-to-go backpack off the floor.
"Bel?" Drew calls from the room.
Nope.I’m not doing this with him. The next thing I know, he’ll have me on the bed in my room. Wasting no time and wanting to piss him off a little, I grab the sack he left on the table and rush out the door. I flick the lock into place before slamming the door and then race down the hall at a dead sprint. Let him look through my things. He won’t find anything, especially since there’s nothing to find. I can only hope he’ll get bored and realize what a mistake he made in choosing to torment me.
By the time I make it to my car, I’m out of breath. I climb in and sag against the seat, locking the doors just to be safe. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I remind myself that I’m safe as I scan my surroundings. There’s no sign of Mr. Psycho.
Thank god.I let out a sigh and cautiously open the bag he brought. I can only imagine the contents. Unfortunately, it’s nothing good. Inside are some protein bars, my discarded clothing, the Plan B he promised, as well as the birth control pills he wants me to take, and a slip of paper. I could refuse to take the birth control pills, but then I’d end up in a worse scenario.Fuck.I drag my attention to the paper. It’s folded, making it unable to be read from inside the bag. I pull it out and unfold it slowly, my hands trembling. My mouth pops open, and I gasp. Is this real? It can’t be. Someone pinch me because I think I’m dreaming.
Printed on that paper is a ten-thousand-dollar check, and it’s made out to me.
"Oh fuck."
CHAPTER 11
DREW