Matteo doesn’t seem phased, he doesn’t even blink. In fact, he smiles. “I’d love to see you try, Rossi. We both know that if either of us tried that, we’d be as good as dead. The rules here protect both of us.”
“Rules were meant to be broken,” I growl.
The mere thought of him getting his hands on Aspen again sends ripples of fury across my skin. I feel like someone has lit my insides on fire. I want to destroy this asshole, but there’s an invisible wall between us, stopping me from doing so.
“I’m not scared of you, Quinton. I’ve fought bigger monsters.”
“You might not be right now, but you should be. Given the first opportunity, you’re dead.”
Matteo shakes his head. “All of this over that girl… that seems a little ridiculous. She’s a liar, a fucking rat. Or has that tight pussy put a spell on you?”
“What she is doesn’t matter to you. Take the warning or don’t. Either way, I will fucking end you if you fuck with what’s mine.”
Turning around, I walk away, not giving him the chance to continue the conversation. It should’ve been done the moment I gave him the warning.
“You might be the untouchable king of Corium, but you left your queen vulnerable,” Matteo yells after me.
I don’t even bother turning around. It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s the person that is slowly becoming my biggest weakness.
Aspen.
19
ASPEN
I attend classes like normal while wondering if Quinton was really the one who set me up the other night or if it was someone else who wanted to get a rise out of me.
It could be anyone. The whole university hates me. But how else did he know where I was? He just took a walk into the girls’ gym shower? No, he has at least something to do with it.
I replay in my mind how we fought, like two feral animals with their lips curled, ready to take a bite out of each other.
He gave us both what we needed. I wasn’t even aware how much I craved his attention or touch until his fingers were on me, and he slipped inside my body. Each stroke told me how he felt, and his possessive grasp on me reminded me that even if he didn’t want to admit it. He still wanted me. What we did felt like heaven, even if I’m a little sore from his rough handling this morning.
Either way, I’m tired of letting everyone push me around and make me feel helpless. I will not stoop to their level and bully them, but I will fight back. I’ve been using Quinton as a shield, letting him protect me when I should have been able to protect myself.
I might never be a ninja like some students here who have been training how to use their body as a weapon since kindergarten, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get stronger.
The next morning, my alarm wakes me up at four-thirty AM. I pry my eyes open and shut the alarms off, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.
I force myself to remember the way Matteo held onto me, how Xander grabbed me, and Nash pushed me on my knees. All those times, I felt weak. These memories make me get out of bed.
Putting my hair up in a ponytail, I quickly get dressed in some workout clothes and slip into my sneakers before heading out to the dorm gym. I really hope my idea of getting there so early that no one else will be there pans out.
The hallway is empty, which gives me hope that I’ll find the gym in the same state. I open the door slowly, sticking my head in to listen for any sign of other students. When I don’t hear anything, I open the door all the way and step inside. I can’t see the entire gym from the entrance, which is why I have a slight heart attack when I walk around the corner and find someone sitting on the weight bench.
Instead of jumping back three feet like I want to, I stand my ground and try to act like I’m supposed to be here. The guy is dressed in a dark gray sweatsuit, his hood pulled up as he looks down at his phone. It’s not until he glances up that I realize it’s Quinton.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, slightly out of breath. Sweat is dripping from his forehead, down his cheeks, and I can’t help but wonder how long he has been in here.
“I… I’m here to work out.”
“At five in the morning? Isn’t it a bit early for you?”
“You’re here,” I point out the obvious.
“Yeah, but I’m here every night.”
“Night? Like the whole night?”
“Sometimes.” He shrugs and shoves his phone into his pocket. Leaning back on the bench, he lifts the weighted bar from the rack and starts pumping it up and down. The large plates stacked on each side are so heavy that the iron bar is actually bending a little. Still, Quinton pushes them up and down like it’s nothing.