“No, I mean y-yes, yes I believe you,” he stuttered.
“I do like experiments.” Ash grinned. “What? No volunteers? I’m disappointed.” He walked back toward me. “Tell you what… I’ll pay for the first volunteer’s entire college tuition—all they have to do is step up as a volunteer. It’s not hard, right? You just get out of your seat, and I get to play Adult Operation. The rest of the students learn a bit about the brain, I get to show the rest of the world how idiotic all the students here are by cracking open someone’s brain and seeing cobwebs and Snapchat, and Annie over here, well, she gets that pound of flesh she deserves after that tweet went out this morning.”
Gasps were heard around the room, and people started murmuring.
“Hmmm.” Ash shrugged and leaned against the professor’s desk. “I guess since we have no volunteers, I’ll just start picking them at random, only this time I can promise pain. You see, I gave you guys an out. Nobody took it, so to collect the pound of flesh she deserves…” He pointed the knife at me. “I’ll just be taking a few ounces from each of you. I’ll stop when she’s satisfied and when the floor’s covered in blood. Don’t think I won’t do it.” He thumbed the knife and moved back to the student directly in front of him. “Your hand, please.”
Shaking, he slowly held out his hand. Ash lifted the blade.
“STOP!” I yelled, unable to keep the horror out of my voice. “I’ll volunteer, I’ll do it.”
The blade hovered over the kid’s hand as he puked on the guy sitting next to him and then passed out.
Ash dropped his hand and glanced over his shoulder with a wink. “You had me worried there for a minute.”
“Wh-what?”
“That, dear students, is your lesson of the day.” Ash walked back toward me and wrapped an arm around me. “You don’t pick on the weak ones; they’re usually the first to take the fall for all of you because they’re secretly the strongest ones in the group. Besides, it just makes you look like a fucking jackass. If you want to pick on someone, pick on me. That at least makes it a fair fight.” He grinned. “For at least the first few seconds while I let you think you have the upper hand.” He sighed. “If I see any more bullying, any more tweets, even a hint of hate. I’ll stop at each class and collect.” He abruptly pulled away and slid the jagged knife across his palm. “My oath.”
People looked ready to cry. One girl was rocking in her desk while another was hurriedly packing up her bag.
“All right.” He smiled wide. “Class dismissed, our professor was feeling under the weather, be sure to volunteer for the Fall Thanksgiving Drive.”
I was so stunned I didn’t even remember walking back toward his car.
Or how I even got my seatbelt buckled.
All I could say as he drove down the road was, “Why?”
It was quiet for a few minutes before he whispered, “Only I get to be the reason for your tears. Not them. Never them.”
I had no idea that for the next two months, Ash and I would be at odds, that he’d make breakfast, take me to school, he’d be as polite as possible.
But that he was more bodyguard than friend.
Angry around the edges.
Unrecognizable.
And I was still the same.
Going through the motions.
Empty.
Chapter Eleven
“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives life fully is prepared to die at any time.” —Mark Twain
Ash
“Could you try not to hit me in the junk next time?” King dodged my next hit. Sweat poured down his recently tatted chest.
“No promises.” I sneered as I threw another punch.
I’d driven Annie back to the house and instantly bolted from the car, my brain a whirlwind of emotions from anger to revenge, lust, sadness. It was like every single human emotion possible had chosen this day to dump on me, fucking with my brain and my heart.
I expected her to follow me down into the basement and was a little disappointed when she didn’t. But I kept going. I knew at least one of my cousins would be waiting to spar—it was an unwritten rule, either go to my house or Nixon’s and expect blood. Thankfully King was only too happy to jump into the ring—though he lost his shit-eating grin after I took out all my rage on his body.
“Hope that doesn’t get infected,” I said, landing another punch across his face.
“Son of a bitch, Ash, who the hell pissed you off today?” He held up both hands; the white tape was stained with wide streaks of crimson at this point.
“I get next,” Junior said from the side of the ring.
I barked out a laugh. “No, Tank’s next.”