His hand moves feverishly down to the top of my skirt and starts untucking my shirt so he can shove his hand up it. I try to push him off me again, but he presses hard enough it feels like my windpipe is about to collapse.
His hand is up my shirt, trying to wheedle its way into my bra when he’s yanked backward so hard he nearly falls on his ass. I slump forward, my hands flying up to my neck as I gasp for air. It burns and stings on the way down to my lungs. I finally glance up, my breath slowly returning to me, and I see it’s Astor holding him by the collar of his shirt.
Never before have I seen rage like that in a man’s eyes.
“Hardy! Don’t you dare lay a hand on her again. Get up, get on your feet. Now!”
Chris stands up in total shock; his face red as he looks at Astor in confusion. I can almost see a puppy misunderstanding its master before me.
Astor isn’t done. He lunges forward, this time grabbing Chris by the front of his shirt. Both boys are big, but Astor has a certain authority about him that makes him fill the whole room. “You’re lucky it was me that caught you. Blair probably wouldn’t let you live.”
He holds him there for a second longer, then lets him go to stumble back again.
“You walk over to her right now and apologize, and it better be genuine, or I will hang your ass from the flagpole myself, right now.”
Chris comes straight for me and I can see him trembling. He glances at Astor, and then back at me. I’m glad I’m not the only one completely terrified of him.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “I didn’t know you were untouchable. It won’t happen again.”
I can’t quite find my voice right away, I’m so surprised. Untouchable. That’s what I’ve always considered the boys … but now Chris is using it to describe me.
It’s more than that, though. Astor, Wills, and Blair have never made anyone apologize to me before. They’ve always been the ones instigating the torture, from themselves and from all of their followers. It’s why Chris thought it was okay to give me hell in the first place. He’s been trained to do it.
“I’m not about to forgive you,” I say. “And Blair isn’t the only one who’s going to kill you if you try that again.”
Astor tells him to get the fuck out, and when he says it there’ hellfire in his eyes.
Chris practically evaporates out of the hallway. The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the sound of my own shaking body. If Astor hadn’t showed up just then, I don’t know what would have happened.
He’s thinking the same thing.
“Are you alright?”
“No, I’m fucking not.” I cover my face in my shaking hands, and suddenly his arms are around me. He doesn’t kiss me. He doesn’t proclaim undying feelings, or press me to see if I’m on the verge of mental collapse. He just holds me.
“No one will ever touch you again, do you hear me.”
I nod, but that’s not enough. He draws back a bit and forces my face up to look at him.
“I need you to know that you’re safe here. With me.”
I search his face, and I see no malice there, no ill-will. He’s serious.
I nod.
He rubs his hand lightly over my back and then jogs up the stairs after Chris … doubtless for a little private conversation about what just happened. What almost happened.
I get out of here as fast as possible.
I should be more upset, more shaken than I am. I’ve been roughed up before, but this time is different. This time … I don’t leave feeling scared and alone. I feel … safe.
Something changed the night of the party. Maybe it started before, but it definitely came to a head when I nearly died from alcohol poisoning.
For the first time here, I feel safe. And it’s all because of Astor. And Wills and Blair.
Who would have ever thought?
Chapter 20