Though annoyed, Olive doesn’t seem to sense the same danger as I do.
“You were following us?” Olive asks, but the indignation that should be in her voice is missing. It’s almost as if … she expected this. Of course she expected this. Like everything else with these godforsaken people, this is all just another game. A game that still seems to make Olive pause when she glances behind her and notices Heath and Beck, too. “What are you all doing here?”
Her voice has changed now. There’s the slightest note of uncertainty.
“We just came to make sure Alex’s night went smoothly,” Heath replies breezily. He and Beck continue to approach. They’re growing closer, and with each step my heart threatens to hammer out of my chest. “It’s not every boy at Bleakwood that gets to take the enviable Olive out on a date.”
I knew this was a bad idea.
I knew this was a dangerous game to insert myself into.
“We’re doing just fine, thank you,” Olive says. There’s only the slightest hint of fear in her voice now. It’s tiny, almost indiscernible, but it’s enough.
This is my fault. Whatever happens here, Olive shouldn’t have to play any more of a part than she already has.
I gently remove my arm from hers. “Go,” I whisper to her.
“What?”
She turns to look at me with widening eyes.
“Just go. Run. I’ll be fine.”
“Run?” she asks incredulously. “Why?”
But even as she asks it, I can see the realization dawning on her face. This isn’t going to end as innocently as she imagined. There are consequences to this game, consequences that I’m going to have to take the brunt of.
I can’t answer before Beck seizes my elbow and yanks me to him, away from Olive. I try to go limp as Heath catches my other arm. Jasper stalks up, brushing past Olive.
“What are you doing?” Olive screams at them, but Beck and Heath stretch my arms out wide to either side of me, not listening. “It was just a date. It didn’t mean anything.”
“Go!” I repeat to her, my voice growing thick and husky with fear. At this rate, it’s all I can do not to sound like the scared little girl I actually am.
Jasper grabs my throat and stares down at me. He’s pressing too hard. I cough and struggle to breathe, then kick my legs, d
esperate to escape.
Heath and Beck lift me by my arms so that my feet kick uselessly at air, but Jasper doesn’t let go.
“What are you doing?” Olive screams again.
The grip on my arms falters a bit. I feel Heath and Beck shuffle a little to my sides, the first signs of unease as Jasper’s hand only grips tighter.
My vision starts to tunnel. I can’t get any air. My feet dangle limply above the ground as I lose the ability to move them—and then Jasper lets go and I suck in a deep breath.
Coughs rake my throat.
Beside me, Heath lets out a nervous laugh. “See, Alex. You don’t want to mess with Jasper.”
Still, he shares an uneasy glance with Beck—something that I notice even in my hazy stupor as I try to catch my breath. They weren’t counting on this.
I’m given no more time to contemplate what Jasper was and wasn’t planning to do with me before he delivers a swift punch to my gut.
It’s all it takes to send me sprawling as Heath and Beck do finally let go of my arms. I land hard on my knees, retching, one thought on my mind. I mustn’t throw up on Rafael’s jacket. I know it’s a stupid thought, that I have far more to worry about, but I still manage to keep from puking on my borrowed clothes.
If The Brotherhood didn’t kill me here, Rafael certainly would have finished the job if I’d ruined that jacket of his.
Despite my pleas to the contrary, Olive still stands frozen just a few feet away at the mouth of the alley. She sees me moving, sees the way Jasper still rocks unsteadily on his feet, and I see her hesitate once more.