“Go…away,” he simply said.
He was sprawled low in his chair, legs spread out, with both arms stretched across the empty chairs on each side of him. He looked as if he didn't have a care in the world as he gazed at me under his lashes.
“Please Keiran, this is important.”
“I told you before. You don't get to say my name. Last chance – leave.” I tried again, my heart beating fast. This wasn’t going to end well.
“I need you –” He leapt out of his chair so fast it flew back. A split second later he regained himself and casually sauntered over to me with a predatory swagger that made me feel hunted.
“You need me?” he chuckled darkly as he circled around me. Don’t do this...please. I hung my head low, knowing what was coming.
“I thought I told you last time I didn't want your services. I can get fresh * for free.” He sniffed the air as if he could smell something foul. He then leaned into my ear but stated loud enough for everyone to hear, “You stink.”
The cafeteria had grown eerily quiet by now watching what was happening. The bell had already rung, signaling the end of the lunch period and the start of another, but no one moved.
He nodded toward my left arm where Trevor had grabbed me leaving a bruise. “Like it rough do you? Your last customer must have given it to you good.”
I’m not a whore. I’m not.
“I guess not good enough since you had to come running to me immediately after.” He stopped circling me, coming to a stop in front of me. “You must be insane Monroe; I wouldn't touch you with a 10-foot fake dick, but maybe Peter could help you out. It looked like he really enjoyed your skills last time.”
I could hear laughter and a shocked gasp in the distance as once again, I felt tears fall. Crying was a daily occurrence for me; sometimes I didn't even notice them. At that moment, I wanted to die thinking it would be the only way to escape.
“Lake!” I heard my name but didn't have the mental strength to lift my head. Light, footsteps approached me and I felt a gentle arm come around me guiding me to the exit.
“Lake, I’m so sorry, why did you come here?” I finally recognized Willow’s voice and lifted my head to find tears in her eyes.
“I had to try,” I whispered.
*
Recognition shown on his face and I sat back, curling my legs underneath me, waiting for him to say something. “You said you needed to talk to me,” he said.
“Yes.”
He rolled his eyes. “What did you need to say?”
“I knew you were going to be set up.” His jaw clenched and his breathing quickened and I wondered if he knew he was doing it. Being close to him those few days allowed me to see a lot. More than he was even aware.
“Is this a confession?”
“No.” More jaw clenching. “It’s chance.”
“Enough with the games!” he roared suddenly and sprung to his feet pacing back and forth. “A chance for what?”
“A chance to tell my side! I’ve tried to talk to you – God – I tried to warn you! This never would have happened if you weren’t…such…a…prick.”
His eyes flickered before he slipped his mask back into place. “So it’s my fault? I didn’t ask to be framed.”
“It’s not your fault but you owe some responsibility to what happened.”
“I won’t apologize for what I’ve done to you. Any of it.”
I felt as if my heart were ripped out of me and made a laughing stock. Knowing he wasn’t sorry for the pain he caused me hurt more than all the pain combined over the years but I refused to cry. I looked up at him and hardened my gaze.
I hated him.
“Then we have nothing to say to each other.”
“Oh?” he asked dangerously low.
“You want an explanation, I want an apology.”
“Not. Happening,” he growled.