TWO

I wanted to kill my guidance counselor for putting Gym as my second period. Some people may be athletic and energised in the morning, but those people weren't me. I've never thought I'd say this, but I'd rather be in a science classroom listening to a boring lecture taught by a professor who talks at the speed of a snail, then run at 10am in the fucking morning.

The brunette strands of my hair were tied into a high ponytail. I'm dressed in a red shirt with Darlington written at the front next to a lion crested symbol and black shorts. Thankfully it wasn't that hot.

After running three laps in a row, I was dehydrated and felt like my body was going to give into exchaustation and collapse at any given moment, so I ran to the benches, taking a sip of water from my bottle.

Elaine, a petite little thing and my classmate appeared next to me, drinking large gulps of water. I scanned my surroundings with my adservistive eyes, locking my stare on the two girls that I recognized. They were a part of that group, the one under the tree from earlier. The three girls that crowded them must be their minions.

I nudged the redhead with my elbow. "Why aren't they participling?"

Elaine's eyes followed me, widening when she realised who I was referring to. "That's Mia Scuderi and Amorét Richélieu. The it girls of Darlington Prep." She said in a matter of fact tone. "They don't need to run. Have you seen their bodies?

Eye roll. "Why not?"

Elaine turned to look at me as if I suddenly grew three heads. I knew I didn't, but checked anyway to be a hundred percent certain. "Are you a country bumpkin or something? How do you not know them?" My shoulders shrugged. I've never really Immersed myself in TV and ideal gossip, maybe that has something to do with it.

Elaine scoffed, this time she was the one to roll her eyes. "Mia's father is like, super mega rich. Her mother is a well-renowned socialite. She's also engaged to Silas Westbrook. Ugh, to have her life." His what?

"Amorét Richélieu's father is apart of the Parliament and her Mother owns a jewellery company worth millions. The Scuderi's and Richelieu's go way back which makes sense why their daughters are the bestest of friends. Their families are old money."

Engaged? Does she know her fiancé was getting a blowjob in a closet on the same campus she goes to? I couldn't imagine ever being engaged to someone like that. I didn't even want to get married, I would much rather stay single. I can't do hookups because I would eventually end up getting attached to the bone, and honestly I can't deal with more baggage.

My break is cut short when Coach Kelly yells at us to run. The urge of kicking a ball at her head grows stronger and stronger with each passing minute I look at her face. I took one more sip, running back to the track where Coach made us run two more laps. I seriously think she's trying to kill us.

My pace slows down when I notice a class of boys make their way on the field, circling out. At this point, I'm walking instead of jogging. I watched as some boys threw a football at each other for the fun of it, and others walked with their friends, their coach—a man, obviously, followed behind, yelling orders at them.

His loud, strong voice reminded me of Stephan, which I hated. I hated the fact I'm still scared of her after all these years. I thought it would be different now that I'm miles away from him, but it's not.

Suddenly all those times he would scream at me in public starts to rush in like a flood. From birthday parties, to events I was forced to attend.

It still angers me knowing Evelyn didn't do anything to help the situation. She didn't protect her daughter like a mother was supposed to, instead she brought me to the abuser, locking me up in chains as if I weren't her own flesh and blood.

I shake the unpleasant thoughts out of my system and speed up my pace.

"Stop staring and get on the field, Westbrook!" I hear the Coach of the Boy's class call out. Westbrook? I've heard that name before, Elaine was talking about him with hearts in her eyes before.

I turn my body so that I'm halfway stretched and look at the opposite end of the tracks where I run into the same exact pair of eyes that gave me nightmares the day I saw him.

The incident happened three years ago, and he happened to be there. When I look into his eyes, I see nothing. His cold gaze holds zero emotion. He's watching me with such intensity it sends shivers down my spine, but for some reason I can't bring myself to look away.

For some reason that causes my temperature to rise. He looks like the type to do that often. I swallow the uneasiness creeping up my throat with a loud gulp. Sweat beads start to form on my forehead, not because I'm hot.

Silas made no attempt at moving anytime soon until an equally handsome boy with tattoos slung his arm over the shoulder of his friend. He's talking to him, and from the looks of it, isn't getting a response back. I watched his eyes follow Silas's in the direction of me, before he directed his attention to Westbrook again.

I knew this was my cue to not walk, or jog, but run. This was my last lap before class was over, the quicker I finish this lap, the quicker I get off this Godforsaken track.

Had I knew this psycho went here, I would've begged Stephan to send me to that boarding school he was talking about. I'd rather go there than stay here. So he's the Silas that hooked up with a girl in the closet. The one who is engaged. Did that not sit right with anyone or just me? Am I the only one with a brain that finds that so messed up?

After finishing my last lap, I walk to the changing room with everyone else and take a shower to get rid of the lingering stench of sweat on my body. I felt so disgusting and sicky, it irked me. Everything did.

I'm externally grateful I have study hall after this, then lunch. I practically have a two hour free period. Most schools don't allow you to leave the premise during study hall, Darlington does. I saw group of students outside the gate and assumes they had study hall first period. If I did, I would be fast asleep in my dorm. I'm not a morning person, neither am I a night person.

The extracurricular roaster at Darlington includes a Olympic swimming team, choir and Equestrian program. I've never been horse backriding but would love to try one day. Maybe I'll sign up for it when the opportunity comes.

I wait for the girls in the changing room to leave, when I'm positive they're gone, I get out wrapped in a white towel. People ask endless questions when they see the scars left on my body, I didn't want to deal with a barrage of questions especially so early in the morning. I was somewhat okay with showing my legs, but that's it. Stephan and Evelyn planned their abuse, leaving no visible perminent scars on my thighs and below.

I ripped off my shower cap, letting my dry waves fall to my back. There's no one here other than me. Thank God. I walked over to my locker, frowning when I couldn't spot my pile of clothes I set at the top.

What the?

I had to register the fact someone robbed me of my clothes while I was in the shower.

Annoyance built up inside of me. You have to be kidding, seriously, you have to be. I shut my locker closed with a bang, looking around. But who could've took it? No one else is here but me.

That's what I thought until I saw him with my uniform in his hands. He stood next to the lockers, inspecting my extra set of black underwear. I felt my cheeks flush in the heat of embarassment. His eyes slowly rose from my undergarments to me, instinctively I tighten the grip I have around the towel. I watch his eyes scan my body, as if he's taking every inch and curve into memory. Shameless bastard. Levelling him with a glare, I pull the bottom of the tower down more, blocking skin. I swear his eyes darkened at that.

"You aren't supposed to be in here,"I told him the obvious. "Unless you identify as a girl."

His head tilted slowly to the side, dark brown curls falling over his forehead which brought out his azure eyes more. I watch as a sickening, twisted grin makes it's way on his lips. "I'm all man." He rose a dark brow. "Care to check?"

I felt like throwing up. He might easy on the eyes, but I wouldn't dare touch someone like him. I wasn't even the slightest bit interested in the thought.

I extended a hand. "Give me back my clothes."

He looks at me like what I just said was forgiein to him. Was my English that hard to comprehend?

"And why should I do that?"

This time it's my turn to look at him crazy. "Because it's my clothes." My words sounded more like a question. I was dumbstruck by his stupidity. You can't steal a girl's clothes while she's in the shower and ask why she wants it back. That screams idiocy at its finest.

"I don't think I want to." He shrugged his shoulders and my mouth gaped open in outwardly surprise.

I blinked several times in the span of one second. "You don't think you want to?"

"Yea."

"Leave or I will tell the headmaster about this, Silas Westbrook." A threat I was willing to go with.

He smiled. "So you've heard of me." Should he really be happy I know his name? I can go to the dean right now and have him reported for the shit he pulled.

"I've heard lots about you." Lies. I've only heard two sentences that had his name in it. "Like getting a blowjob in the Janitor's closet. Let me ask you something, have you no shame?"

He's big, broad and tall, I don't know why I'm sizing him up with an attitude when he can easily crush me with an ounce of his manpower. When something gets taken away from me, I get angry, like any other person would, and when you're angry, you tend to say and do shit in the heat of the moment. Then you start to regret it, I'm waiting for fear and regret to seep through my blood.

His neck cranes to the side with that same exact stupid grin. "And what else?" There's a hint of amusement behind his irises and interest in his tone. He's enjoying getting under my skin.

"I've also heard you're engaged. If you're not going to have respect for yourself, at the very least have some to your fiance. I feel bad for the poor girl." I dared to test an Ace. Clementine's so going to kill me when she finds out about this.

Suddenly there's no playful gleam behind his narrowed eyes. I felt chills run up my spine and I knew I made a terrible mistake bringing up his engagement. He doesn't look like the type to commit to someone in both loyalty and blood. That says enough about his character.

I inched away with my back still facing the locker behind me when he began approaching like a wolf in heat. Suddenly the thumping of my heart increases greatly out of fear. What's he going to- It wasn't until I'm directly pushed against my locker, his arms flew to either side of my head, locking me in.

Now that he's closer I got a better view of his chiselled, well defined face sculpted by the Gods. His plush pink lips are sealed in a thin line, reminding me of the first time we met on the roof of that building. What was he even doing there? Was he thinking of ending it, too? I shook the thought out of my head. I doubt that. Like Clem said, the Aces have everything and everyone under their control, I sincerely doubted he would willingly lose it all.

Once again, my eyes scanned his face for any hidden emotion and failed. I gulped back my fear. His pupils were smaller, resulting in them looking crazier. He resembles a mad dog. If he had to be a dog, he would be a doberman.

"Mind your fucking business. Following me to this school doesn't automatically give you an answer to everything." He spoke in a low, gravelly voice, his blood curling tone alarmed me. How could someone speak with no emotion in their voice?

I didn't want to witness this atrocious side of him, so I closed my eyes completely shut, reopening them when I felt him pushing off me. I watch his back leave as he walks out of the changing room.

I clung onto his words that lingered in the corrupt air. Following me to this school ... Did he really think I'm a stalker? I've been accused of lots of things, but stalking was never one of them. I finally felt like I could breath and not be killed for it by his harsh glare.

I ran to grab my clothes and changed into them. I went back to my locker, reaching to grab my other set of underwear. I brought three sets of underwear just in case, I find myself only left with two.

My brows furrowed together and the grip I had on my undergarments tightened. Fucking Silas Westbrook.

He stole my underwear!