“You can’t,” I whispered. “I just want to be alone right now.”
Bronx sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Fine, but can we talk about this tomorrow? Are you in danger right now?”
“I’m fine, B. I’m going to bed,” I said, standing up and holding the water bottle with a death grip.
I walked to the front door and opened it, waiting for Bronx to leave so I could lock it and lay down. He got up slowly, his brown eyes filled with sadness as he walked over to me. “Please, Ashtyn. I’m fucking begging you here. Please tell me who hurt you.” He brushed his hand against my arm and I flinched.
I shook my head and looked outside, avoiding his eyes that would’ve made me crumble into a pile at his feet. I couldn’t tell him what happened. Not yet.
He would tell West, West would kill Reynolds, and West would go to prison for the rest of his life.
Bronx sighed again at my silence. He shuffled out the door and turned to talk, but I shut the door and quickly locked it.
I went to my room and got dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and an old t-shirt. I sat at my desk and looked at the latest painting I was working on. It was the one I wanted to submit to the art gallery. The one Reynolds nominated me for.
What a joke. It was all bullshit. Every line he fed me about being a talented artist. All bullshit. West was right, and I felt like an idiot for believing him.
I swiped the easel–along with my painting–off the desk in a fit of rage, not stopping until every bottle of paint, paintbrush, and palette were scattered on the floor.
My eyes welled up with tears–again, and I rummaged through one of the desk drawers until I found what I needed. A blade.
Sorry Rem. I’m weak and I can’t fucking take this anymore.
I got a piece of gauze and tape and sat down on my bed with the supplies. I drew the blade up to my favorite spot on my arm, the cool steel sending shivers across my skin, and pressed down until it broke and crimson liquid pooled. It hurt in the best way. I stared at the red line, blood dripping down my arm.
I was relieved but I was disappointed in myself.
I couldn’t keep letting people have control over me. West. Mom. Dad. Remington. Kendra. Reynolds. The stalker–which I was almost sure was Reynolds based on how he spoke to me.
I bandaged my arm, vowing to stop letting others make me feel weak enough to submit to my blades. I went around the house collecting them, trying to remember all of my hiding places, and threw them away.
I wasn’t going to do it anymore. I made a promise to Remington and even though I broke it already, I was making a new promise to myself to not hurt me anymore. There were a lot of people in my life who deserved pain, but I was not one of them. Self-inflicting my own punishments wasdone.
I was going to burn this motherfucker to the ground and anyone standing in my way was going down with me.
Ididn’tsleepmuchlast night, so having time to make coffee before school was crucial. I’d spent the night formulating a plan of attack on my teacher.
I needed to gather as much information on Reynolds as possible, and through my internet sleuthing, I found out he lived on the north side–of course–and was the son of wealthy State Representative Carlisle Reynolds. He was one of four children–him being the youngest–and was the only one of his siblings to do something mediocre like accept a teaching job at Gilchrist Point High School.
Easy pickings for a pedophile, I thought. Lost and broken girls looking for a man to help them escape Gilchrist Point. We were prime prey for him.
His older brothers were in politics, but Daniel went to GPU. The funny thing was I could see Daniel being very successful in the world of politics. A greedy, slimy, liar taking what wasn't his to take.
He certainly had me fooled.
But that wasn’t enough information to take his ass down. I needed something big, and I knew there had to be skeletons hiding in his closet. I just had to figure out a way to find and expose them. Axel’s face flashed in my mind–he had the connections and the technology, but would he help me now that West and I were done?
I poured some coffee into my to-go cup and threw a sweatshirt on over my tank top. I borrowed it from Gabby a while back, it was black and saidAllergic to Pandejos–which I felt was fitting for the day. I had on a pair of jean shorts and my Converse. Even though it was going to be another scorcher, I wasn’t about to put my cuts on display for everyone to see. It was going to be rough at school with the information overload everyone got from the stalker’s account over the weekend. West fucking Kendra, me getting a ride home from Reynolds. People were going to be talking and I needed to be prepared for it.
I took a deep breath, hitched my messenger back on my shoulder, grabbed my coffee, and headed for the door. As I was locking it, I heard footsteps behind me. I took the travel-sized mace attached to my keychain, turned and aimed, ready to fire the poisonous mist at whoever was sneaking up on me.
“Hey wait! It’s just me!” Bronx threw his hands up in surrender.
I breathed out and my shoulders relaxed as I pointed the mace down. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
“I’m fine, just on my way to school,” I nodded at Mom’s car, itching to get past him and be on my way.