His stare went from hard to impatient. “It’s not an option.”
It was then I realized that I was just as much a pawn in Angel’s game as he was. If I refused him, Angel would likely pummel him, which wouldn’t fare well for Jesse. Angel would leave permanent damage. Beating up Jesse in front of his friends would be doing him a favor.
After stealing another glance at Angel, I squared my shoulders and tried to look tough. Jesse didn’t look particularly worried about me. His terrified gaze was still locked on Angel.
I swung, landing my first punch on his arm. I stepped back, hoping it was over. Jesse didn’t move, but his face said he hoped it was over, too.
I should have known better.
“Again.”
I didn’t hesitate this time. I punched his shoulder, this time, harder. I could tell he felt it this time when he winced.
“Again.”
I chose his chest. Rearing back, I put my weight behind it this time. This time, I was rewarded with a low oomph .
Angel didn’t need to direct my next hit. The rush I felt spurred me. I delivered blows, again and again, choosing tender spots, and giving it all I got until he was on the ground trying to escape the pain and humiliation.
My arm was too tired to continue, my breath was coming in and out hard and fast, and I had built up a nice sweat. Feeling good, I looked behind me, hoping to see approval but found his expression impassive as if I’d just completed a crossword puzzle rather than beating the shit out of my bully.
“Are you satisfied?”
He smirked and shook his head slowly.
Jesse was crying now, and my guess was he’d seen Angel’s answer, too. What more did he want? I glanced at Jesse’s friends and wondered if they stuck around out of loyalty or fear, and then I wondered which one pushed me yesterday.
“Class is starting—”
“You came home bleeding yesterday,” he interrupted.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t see blood on him.”
My stomach turned. I was the one assaulted, but Angel was the one out for blood. What if I couldn’t make him bleed? Would Angel do the deed himself?
I searched Jesse’s face for his most vulnerable spot and then swung my leg over Jesse’s prone body. I cocked back my elbow and let my fist fly. He screamed and clutched his nose but then screamed louder and removed his hands. His nose and upper lip were now covered in red.
I did it.
I didn’t mean to smile, but it felt good.
I actually made someone bleed.
If I wasn’t careful, I could become addicted.
“What is going on here?” My victorious moment was shattered by the shrill outrage of the intruder. Mrs. Rogers, my English teacher, stood a few feet away sporting a scowl. Her crooked red glasses, red lipstick, and dull brown hair pulled into a hideous undo did nothing to help her appeal. “Jesse? Why are you on the ground? Oh, my God! You’re bleeding!” That’s when she noticed me. Fist balled and standing over him. “Miss Ross, in the principal’s office now! Mr. Newman, we need to get you—”
“She’s not going anywhere but to class. Do what you want with him.” I looked back in time to see Angel flick his hand to Jesse.
“Excuse me? Who are you and why are you on school property?”
“I’m with her.” He moved closer behind me until I could feel the heat from his body and smell his body wash.
He said he was with me.
Angel Knight is with me.
Why did that send tingles up my spine and unleash butterflies in my stomach?
“I don’t care who you’re with, young man. She is going to the principal’s office, and you will leave school property before I have you arrested.”
“Call them. We’ll do it from Principal Field’s office.”
He knew the name of my principal?
Sweeping out his arm, he sent her a smug smile. “Shall we?”
She stomped away in her ugly brown heels with Jesse in hand but not before demanding I follow. I did because, Angel or no Angel, I was in trouble that Angel couldn’t fix. He couldn’t very well demand I beat up a teacher or even the principal to make a statement.
We were shown inside the principal’s office after Jesse was escorted to the nurse’s office. I could feel Angel at my side the entire time.
“Mr. Fields, I have Mian Ross with me, and her friend .”
But he wasn’t my friend. He was my babysitter.
It didn’t escape my notice that he didn’t bother to correct her.
“Mrs. Rogers, what is this about?” Mr. Fields demanded impatiently. His sharp gaze landed on me and then slid up to Angel, and I could have sworn I saw him pale.
Glancing up, I searched Angel’s face but his gaze gave nothing away. He looked bored again.