Talking. I was fucking done with the talking. Nothing I tried to do with Jared this year helped me. Nothing made my life better. In the end, his bullying had ended any hopes I had for happiness.
Somehow I’d been wrong when I thought he really cared. When I thought he really loved me. I believed every stupid lie he spewed. Maybe he was never abused. He probably didn’t even have a brother.
He’d finally pushed me so far down that I only wanted to escape now. Escape into something other than hope, love, and all that other bullshit.
My anger and pain were molding into something else, something harder.
Numbness.
Indifference.
Coldness.
Whatever it was, it felt better than what I felt a minute ago.
I took a deep breath and sniffled. “Let me go. I’m going home.” My voice was hoarse but steady when I pulled away from Madoc.
He released me, and I walked away slowly.
“I don’t think you should drive,” Madoc called out behind me.
I just wiped my eyes and kept walking. Down the stairs, through the empty hallways, and out the front doors.
I’d parked next to Jared that morning, and when I saw his car I let out a hard laugh. Not from amusement but from the look on his face when he came outside to see what I’d done.
I grabbed the crowbar out of the back of my truck and ran the sharp-cornered end along the side of his car as I walked to the front of the vehicle. The shrill screeching of metal on metal sent a warming high right to my veins, and I smiled.
And brought the crowbar down dead center on his windshield.
The impact splintered the glass into a hundred different cracks. It sounded like a fat roll of bubble wrap popping all at once.
After that, I went crazy. I pounded dents into his hood, doors, and trunk. My hands hummed from the vibrations of the blows, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. With each wallop, I got higher and higher. Hitting him where it hurt made me feel safe. No one could really hurt me if I could hurt them, right?
This is how bullies are made. A voice in my head whispered. I shook it off.
I wasn’t becoming a bully, I told myself. A bully has power. I didn’t wield any power here.
I slammed the crowbar across his driver’s side window, shattering it. Bits of glass rained all over his seat.
Before I could get the crowbar raised to bust one of his quarter panel windows, I was grabbed from behind and turned away from the car.
“Tate, stop it!”
Jared.
I twisted out of his grasp and whirled around to face him. He held up his hands as if to calm me, but I was already calm. Didn’t he see that? I was in control, and I didn’t care what any of these people thought.
Madoc stood behind Jared with his hands on his head, surveying the damage to Jared’s car. His eyes were so wide that I thought they would pop out of his head. The school’s windows were nearly spilling with bodies anxious to get a glimpse of the display.
Fuck them.
“Tate…” Jared said timidly, eyeing the weapon in my hand.
“Stay away from me, or it’ll be more than your car getting busted up the next time,” I warned.
I didn’t know if it was my words or my flat tone that surprised him, but he hesitated.
He stared at me like I was someone he didn’t know.
Chapter 36
I’d gotten out of there before anyone had a chance to torment me more. Once I jumped in my truck and sped off, my phone started lighting up with calls and texts. K.C. dialed every thirty seconds, and I got nothing from Jared.
Good. He knew that it was over. He’d gotten what he wanted. I was shamed and humiliated, and his job was done.
The texts, on the other hand, were from random people, most of whom I barely knew.
You look like a good fuck. Busy 2nite? One of the texts read, and I clenched the phone so hard that I heard it crack.
Do u do threesomes? This text came from Nate Dietrich, and I felt my stomach start to turn.
Everyone was laughing at me and hovering around that horrid video, no doubt launching it into cyberspace for anyone to see. Thinking of the dirty old men that would get off from seeing it, or all of the people at school who would look at me now and know exactly what I looked like without my clothes on made my skull ache and my eyes burn.
After two more disgusting messages, I steered the truck to the side of the road and opened the door to throw up. My gut wrenched, emptying everything I’d eaten today. Coughing, I hurled and spit up the last contents of my stomach and shut the door.
Snatching tissues out of the glove compartment, I wiped my face clean of tears and stared out the front windshield, not really wanting to go home.
Anyone who wanted to find me would start there. And I couldn’t see anyone right now. I really just wanted to jump on a goddamn plane and go to my dad.
My dad.
I exhaled and dropped my aching head to the steering wheel, forcing in deep breaths.
Son of a bitch.
There was no way my dad wasn’t going to find out about this. The video was probably all over the place by now. The school and other parents would find out, and someone would call my him.
How could I have been so stupid?! Forgetting for a moment that it was ludicrous of me to believe Jared and trust him, but I had sex with him at a party, in someone else’s house!
That damn phone of his. He’d placed it on the dresser to play music, but he’d really set it to record us having sex. He probably thought he’d have to coax me into putting out at the Beckman house when I’d actually coerced him. Or so I thought.
Everything was a lie. The way he kept me so close this past week, touching me and holding me. Every time his lips brushed my neck as he hugged me, and all the times he kissed my hair when he thought I was asleep.
All. A. Fucking. Lie.
I wipe my nose and pulled off the side of the road. There was only one person I could be around right now. The only person who loved me and couldn’t look at me with pity or shame.
My mom.