Mr. Blackbourne’s shoulders lowered. “Over here.”
From around the bend came Kota and North. Their eyes landed on me. They stopped dead.
“Sang,” Kota breathed out.
“We don’t have time to talk,” Mr. Blackbourne said. “She can’t be here when he comes out of this.”
“What did he do?” North asked, his fists clenched, drifting forward, his fierce dark eyes landing on McCoy’s still body.
“No time,” Mr. Blackbourne replied. “Get her out of here. Kota, help me with McCoy.”
Kota moved quickly, stepping up next to McCoy and shoving his arms around his shoulders. With Mr. Blackbourne assisting, they managed to flip Mr. McCoy onto his back.
North zoomed forward. His fists moving toward my face. At the last split second, they opened up, as if wanting to pull me toward him.
Only what I saw first were fists coming at me. I cowered, raising my arms instinctively. I shook so hard, my body visibly trembling before him.
He stop, his mouth falling open and his eyes widening. He took a step back, dropping his hands to his sides. The wave of pain over his face told me I did something that I could possibly never take back. “I can’t take her,” he said.
I started shaking my head. No! You can take me. Let’s go. I willed the words to escape my mouth, but my voice box wasn’t working. I was too stunned from what just happened and what he was saying now. What did I do?
“Get her out of here,” barked Mr. Blackbourne.
“She doesn’t trust me,” North yelled at him. He turned from me until I couldn’t see his face. “Did you see her flinch?”
“She’s in shock,” Kota said.
“She hates me.” North’s shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breathing. “This will never work. She’ll never join us. Did you see her back away from me?”
“We don’t have time for this,” Mr. Blackbourne said.
“I’ll take her,” Kota said, dropping Mr. McCoy’s body to the ground. His arms opened up and he reached out for me. “Come on, Sang.”
His approach was slower than North’s. I reached back for him and he grasped me around the waist. His arm hooked under my thighs and he picked me up, pulling me against him. My head found the corner between his neck and shoulder. My hands moved to his chest as he carried me. I trembled against him but felt the soothing relief. Kota. It was over. McCoy was down.
“See?” North said somewhere I couldn’t see. A growl emanated from him. “She doesn’t trust me. She hates me. She’ll never ...”
“Get her out of here, Kota,” Mr. Blackbourne snapped. “North, focus.”
Kota clutched me to his body and dashed away from the locker room. North’s voice traveled with me.
She hates me.
It wasn’t true. He didn’t know. I wanted to stop Kota but I was too scared in the moment to stop him.
I knew with every step he took away from North, that I was making my mistake worse.
I should get Kota to turn around. I needed to tell North I didn’t hate him. I didn’t mean to recoil from him. He surprised me.
“Kota,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean it. I don’t hate him.”
He turned, pressing his back against the door that led out to the parking lot. “Hang on, Sang,” he said. “We need to get out of here.” He twisted himself, taking me along with him, until we were out under the rain.
Droplets fell against my face. At first, I dismissed it, my body shivering but with Kota there, I didn’t think of it.
As the rain struck at my skin, images started pouring behind my eyes. McCoy’s hands reaching to carry me off. North’s angry face as I pulled away.
My mother locking me up in the shower, tying me to the stool.
It was the last thing I remembered before everything went black.
FORGIVENESS
Rain tapped the window of my bedroom, waking me from a heavy sleep filled with dark dreams. I sat up quickly, gasping and clutched at my chest. I felt like I hadn’t breathed in hours and suddenly discovered the pain of my lungs on fire.
The last thing I remembered was Mr. Blackbourne’s estranged face as he was hauling an unconscious Mr. McCoy.
The rain against the window caused my stomach to twist. That brought more memories to me. I’d passed out in the rain. I couldn’t get through a rainstorm without fainting from sheer terror. I trembled at hearing the splattering.
North’s words clattered through me again.
She hates me. She’ll never join us.
I glanced around in the dark, recognizing my bed and the familiar surroundings. I traced my hand along the sheets next to me. The coolness confirmed no one was with me tonight.
I found my phone next to the pillow. I curled up against the bed on my side, holding the phone. My fingers found the cracks in the glass. I pressed a button, hoping it would work.
The light from the phone glowed in my face. The phone seemed fine, but the cracks in the glass were unsightly. I groaned softly. Victor would be upset. He’d want to get me another one.
My fingers hovered over the guy’s apps. It was one in the morning. If they weren’t sleeping right now, they were probably working. I imagined that was why no one was there right now.
Not that I deserved it. I failed terribly. I wasn’t fast enough with McCoy.
I made North angry.
The memory of North’s pained face had me shuddering where I lay. What could I do? I was tempted to call him and wake him up and apologize, but I was scared, too. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make it worse.
I ached. A tear slid across my cheek and dropped against the bed. I couldn’t believe how badly I had messed up. North. The thought of his warm arms wrapped around me, his lips pressed against my fingers, his nose buried into my hair, how could he not know how I felt? I wasn’t afraid of him.
I couldn’t live like this. I couldn’t let him think I hated him.
I tapped at the black car that was his icon for his app. I hesitated. I still didn’t want to wake him if he was sleeping so I didn’t want to call.
I opted instead to send a text.
Sang: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I did. I don’t hate you. Please don’t be mad at me.
I couldn’t think of what else to say. I swallowed, hovered my finger over the send button and pushed. When the message went out, I clutched the phone, drawing it to my chest.
When the phone buzzed against my skin, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. He was awake or I had woken him. I didn’t want to look at my screen, scared he was angry and would tell me to back off or worse. I couldn’t stop myself from checking.
North: I wouldn’t blame you if you did.
My eyes flared. I sat up, shoving my blanket away. I faced the wall and sat cross legged on my bed. My fingers flew across the screen’s keyboard display.
Sang: Don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault. After McCoy came after me, I was jumpy because he scared me, not you. I didn’t mean to flinch from you. I just didn’t know what you were doing so I backed up a little to figure out what you wanted. I’m sorry. It wasn’t you.
I waited for a reply, staring at the screen and straining in impatience to hear back from him.
North: Are you okay?
Was I okay? What kind of question was that? I flexed my ankle. It was stiff but working. Was he even talking about that?
I hovered over the phone, trying to think of a response. There was only one thing I could think to say. With trembling fingers, I typed in my answer.
Sang: I miss you.
My heart became a tiny pit inside my body as I sent the message. It felt like the completely wrong thing to say. The second I sent it along, I wanted to take it back. It felt so forward and was probably way out of what he was talking about.
Only I knew the truth. I meant it. I did miss him. I missed the way I felt about him before I did such a terrible thing. I didn’t want him to hate me and was scared to death that he wouldn’t forgive me.
I strained over the phone, gazing down at the glow and waited, holding my breath.
“I miss you, too,” a gruff voice uttered from behind me.
I dropped my phone, and it slid down, falling onto the floor. I spun to my knees on the bed, gazing into the dark behind me.
The outline of North’s figure loomed in the corner. He was sitting on top of my trunk. His back was against the wall. His gruff face was partially illuminated by the cell phone he held in his hands. His eyes met mine, apologies and silent questions penetrating through me.
I should have known. The Academy boys wouldn’t leave me.
“North,” I whispered, afraid that what I was seeing was an illusion.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his low voice vibrating through my bones. “Sang Baby, that wasn’t me. I knew better. It was the stupid drugs and then seeing McCoy.”