Fierce Read online

  “Since when do you care so much?”

  “I don’t know. Never mind,” I say.

  I don’t have the guts to tell her that I’m actually nervous that it might be Hunter we’re talking about here. And I’m even more anxious to find out whether it was him that received the beating, or if it was him who was handing it out.

  That last thought is making me want to puke.

  I can’t imagine him doing that to someone. Hunter Bane, planning a fight? No, that doesn’t seem like him. He can’t have.

  Although he looked just like the type yesterday.

  “Well, I have to be in here, so …” she says, and she points at the door to her right. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Actually … I have to work tonight.”

  “Oh …” she says, her face turning gloomy all of a sudden. “Okay. Well, put your best foot forward.”

  I roll my eyes. “Like I ever do anything else.”

  “Of course you don’t. You’re perfect, remember?” she winks, and we both burst out into laughter.

  “See ya!” I say, and I walk into a different hallway to get to my own class in time.

  I sit down somewhere in the middle and start unpacking my stuff. Soon the entire room floods, but my area stays nicely quiet. I don’t mind. I mean, I’ve known for a long time people don’t really like to sit next to me. I don’t really care about the reason. I don’t care at all that they don’t want to sit next to me. I like being on my own. I have Evie. Enough friends for me.

  As I finish placing my stuff on the table, I notice a guy opening the door. The teacher has already started his class, and seems pissed when the student stands in the doorway.

  “Well, come in then,” the teacher says, annoyed.

  And then I notice it’s Hunter.

  His face has turned from a colorful palette into a much less noticeable shade of green. Lucky for him he’s hiding part of his busted face in his thick vest. He probably only put it on to hide that fact.

  I snort as he turns his face toward me and stares at me with his piercing gray eyes like he can see right through me.

  I swallow and sink back into the chair. Especially when I realize the only empty space in class is right beside me.

  “You’re late,” the teacher snaps.

  “Yeah … Sorry.”

  “And your homework is shoddy at best.”

  Jesus, he’s really getting it today. I’m starting to feel embarrassed already, and the teacher isn’t even talking about me!

  “Mister Bane, I don’t know if you realize this, but your grades are on the line.”

  Hunter seems unfazed by the teacher’s comment. His face is unmoving but sincere, as if he really cares.

  I envy him. I wish I could remain that confident, hard like a brick, when facing a sneering teacher.

  Especially in front of the entire class.

  “I know, it won’t happen again. I’ll work harder. I promise.”

  The teacher squints in silence and looks intently at him for a second. “This is your last chance, Mister Bane. Don’t screw it up.”

  Hunter nods, and somehow that’s enough for the teacher to let him off the hook. I don’t know how he does it.

  When he comes up the steps his gaze is already set on that one empty spot beside me. I’m squeezing my legs together as he sits next to me. My instinct is to scoot far away, but I can’t; there’s nowhere to go.

  I feel watched, which isn’t strange, considering his gray eyes are practically trying to penetrate my skin.

  Anger is seething inside him; I don’t have to look at him to know. I can feel it flowing out of him like a radiator that’s burning up.

  God, I want to die.

  He keeps staring at me, as if he has nothing better to do. My heartbeat is rising, and I’m starting to feel really sweaty. I don’t know why he’s doing this, but it’s freaking me out, and I don’t like it one bit.

  “Don’t you have to pay attention?” I say, avoiding his eyes.

  “To you? Yes.”

  His words make my insides broil.

  “The teacher has already started talking.” I point to the front, but Hunter doesn’t even flinch. His eyes are still on me like a hawk zooming in on his prey.

  “I don’t care.”

  I swallow, gathering the courage to turn my head and look at him. The moment my eyes make contact with his I’m drowning. Drowning in amazement. Drowning in fear.

  Fear of the unknown.

  “But your grades …” I stammer.

  He snorts, and a smile curls the corners of his mouth while he shakes his head. “Yeah, right.”

  And all I can do is stare.

  If looks could kill, I would be dead.

  He looks so damn handsome when he smiles. It’s like everything around us fades, and all I ever want to see is that smile. It just makes me feel good.

  But when the smile disappears, so does my good mood.

  The darkness falling over his face unsettles me.

  In his eyes I see the hurt, the worries, the insomnia. Sleepless nights have worn down his face, making him look saggy and dull. But I know there’s so much more inside there.

  Endless stories and an undiscovered world I’m intrigued by.

  I want to know what’s in there. Inside him. Why he’s so angry and sad at the same time.

  A sudden overwhelming feeling to grab him and hold him tight takes me aback.

  He’s having so much trouble in his life right now, even though I have no idea what’s going on. I can see there’s something wrong. And I want to help him get through it.

  But I don’t come any closer. I don’t move one muscle.

  I’m scared. Scared of what he can do. Scared of his power, and his temper.

  In my mind I can still see his bloodshot eyes and the hateful look on his face. He was in that fight yesterday, I’m sure of it. The only question is: who was the one instigating it?

  I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

  I can’t ask him. I just can’t get the words to come out. I’m really chicken-shit.

  “Something wrong?” he says.

  I shake my head.

  “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

  Hunter inches closer. I instinctively draw back, but he scoots even closer to my side. I’m scared to death he wants to do something to me, and I have no idea what, which makes it even scarier.

  A devious smile appears on his face, and it’s almost as if he’s enjoying this. Taunting me seems like his way of passing time in class. I don’t like it one bit, but on the other hand I’m excited as hell.

  He raises his head, and his nostrils flare. I turn my head, my breath hitching in my throat. I can’t look when he’s doing this, entering my private space uninvited.

  It feels as though his nose is close to my hair, because there’s hot air flowing close to my ear. And then he inhales.

  Holy shit.

  Is he smelling me?

  I’m frozen in place from sheer panic, my heart beating like crazy.

  No guy has ever come this close to me.

  He lets out a huge breath afterward and chuckles softly. His breath lingers on my ear, and a shudder runs through me.

  “I like it,” he whispers.

  Oh. My. Fucking. God.

  My skin tingles where his hot breath brushed over me. My groin clenches, and my clit thumps.

  Why?

  His whisper does this to me. Just a whisper.

  I’ve never felt like this before. I think I just died inside.

  Hunter muffles a laugh. It’s like he can smell my fear.

  He takes in a sharp breath and moves back to his usual spot. As if what he did just now was the most normal thing in the world.

  I’m still shaken, my body stiff from the encounter. I feel completely naked, and I know he’s watching me.

  The look in his eyes is like that of a boy who just did something totally against the rules. And it’s so fucking sexy I can’t
stand it.

  Still panting, I straighten my glasses. I wait until I calm down before I open my mouth again. “Why did you do that?”

  The left corner of his mouth forms half a smile, and he continuous to gaze at me with animal-like eyes. It’s his thing, I guess. A ‘Hunter’s’ thing.

  “No reason.”

  “What?” I say, befuddled.

  He slumps down in his seat and starts watching the teacher.

  “Are you going to explain why you’re acting this way?” I ask.

  “Nope.”

  I frown. “Why do you even come to class anyway? Only to torment me?”

  He closes his eyes and laughs out loud, making me feel like a fool.

  “Leafy, don’t take life so serious.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You gotta live a little.”

  “Excuse me, but I think I’m fine without your advice, thanks.” I open my books and concentrate on the pages instead. I’ve had enough of this.

  I don’t want to be his plaything. I don’t want to be made fun of, to be ridiculed, to be laughed at. If that’s all he wants from me, then I won’t give him anything at all.

  “Oh c’mon. Is your life really all that exciting?” he says.

  “I don’t need excitement,” I snap.

  “Everyone does something they get excited about. You’ve got to have something you love doing.”

  I sigh and close my eyes, trying to wish him away.

  “Come on … you can tell me,” he says, poking my arm. The moment his finger comes in contact with my flesh I feel weak to the bones.

  “Fine. I like reading. Happy now?”

  “Reading?” he jests.

  “Yes. Books. You know, the thing lying on your table that you refuse to look at.”

  “You think I’m doing that out of disinterest.”

  I nod.

  “Wrong.”

  The full stop to our conversation feels uneasy. He clears his throat. “Just because I don’t like it, doesn’t mean I don’t want to. I know it’s important. Just like I know it’s important to have some fun once in a while.”

  “Right, because you’ve seemed so happy these last couple of days.”

  The uncomfortable mood becomes even more apparent.

  Shit. I went a little too far with that last remark.

  He knows I saw everything. He knows I’ve seen the hurt. He doesn’t want anyone to notice.

  “Believe me, I would give anything to be in your shoes right now instead of my own.”

  I chortle. “Of course you would.” As if my life is so easy.

  “Except for the whole monthly women things … you know …” he clears his throat again. What a weird conversation.

  “On second thought, never mind. Anyway, you should really start enjoying life more. Might make it a little easier.”

  “You mean by fighting with people?” I say.

  His smile disappears. His eyebrows draw together, and his face turns bitter. His jaw is clenched, and he looks pissed now.

  I don’t care. I need to know. “Whose idea was it? Yours or his?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he murmurs, and he turns his head away from me.

  The teacher puts down his chalk and says class is over. The students around us stand up and start packing their things.

  Guess it’s time to go.

  “Whatever,” I say. “If that’s your idea of having a nice, easy life, have fun with it.”

  I fetch my stuff and stand up. Suddenly Hunter reaches forward and grabs my wrist. “I never said I liked that part.”

  “Then why do you do it?” I say.

  His fingers are warm and engulf my wrist completely. I feel so tiny and fragile right now.

  “Because I have to,” Hunter says, and he lets me go.

  Sighing, he stands up too, and waits. I don’t know what for, but he continues staring at me until I’m done packing my things. We walk out of the classroom together while he keeps his eyes on me like a hawk, as if he’s afraid I’m going to tell someone.

  Suddenly Brody pops up out of nowhere.

  “Hey, Autumn,” he says.

  When he notices Hunter standing next to me, he looks up in surprise. His brows furrow and his lips part, as if he doesn’t understand what’s going on. “Um … Who’s your friend?”

  So then I guess he doesn’t know Hunter; even though they both interacted with the flowerpot-hairdo guy, they don’t know each other. Or they’re just trying to fool me.

  “Hunter Bane,” Hunter says, clearing his throat.

  Brody squints at him with a suspicious look on his face, as if he doesn’t trust him.

  “What do you want?” I say crudely.

  “Look, I’m sorry about my friends. I don’t want to make things worse, so I was wondering if you’d like to hang out for a while. You’re done with classes for today, right? Let’s go grab some food.”

  I stare at him and then at Hunter, who shrugs.

  “You should come, too,” Brody adds, looking at Hunter.

  “What? I uh … no, I can’t do that.”

  “Sure you can. A friend of Autumn’s is a friend of mine,” Brody says.

  I roll my eyes and check my wallet for the little amount of cash I still have left. Hunter rummages his pockets, but pulls them out and shows they’re empty.

  “Sorry, I’m broke,” Hunter says.

  “Yeah … me too,” I say. “Rain check then?”

  “I can pay, no problem,” Brody says.

  “Oh, no, I can’t take that,” I say.

  “No way I’m letting a dude pay for my lunch,” Hunter jokes.

  “Besides, I have work in about an hour or so. Don’t really have a lot of time,” I add.

  Brody sighs. “Okay. Well, I’ll see you around then. Let me know if you want to do something, okay?”

  “I will,” I say with a fake smile.

  I’m not sure I will. I mean, Brody was my best friend for a long time, but lately we’ve been drifting further apart. He’s changed so much. I don’t know if I even want to spend more time with him.

  “Yeah, I really have to go,” Hunter suddenly says.

  When I turn to look at him I see him staring at a bunch of guys near the fence. They’re the same guys as last time, one of them the usual flowerpot hairdo. That guy Brody knows, too.

  I wonder what Hunter’s doing with them. Were they involved in the fight? They must’ve been.

  I don’t understand why he’s hanging out with them or what they want from him. One thing’s for sure, though: nothing good can come from it.

  “See ya, Leafy,” he says, as he signals the guys.

  “The name’s Autumn!” I shout after him, but he ignores me.

  Chapter 8

  Fight or Flight

  I’m working in a Denny’s joint, selling customers sloppy burgers and cleaning their tables after they’re done. It’s an ungrateful job, with people whining for more sauce and complaining about the taste, which I have no control over, but it pays the bills. And I so need the money.

  I work hard to make enough money so I can survive on campus. It’s not the most ideal job, but I’m happy I managed to snag it. I need it badly. There isn’t any other way to compensate for the lack of funds.

  My parents do their best to support me. They raised me well, put all their savings in a bank account and gave it all to me so I could go to college. I can’t even begin to explain to them how grateful and happy I feel to have them as my parents.

  Even if they’re poor.

  They tried to give me as much as they could. They did everything for me. And they mean the world to me.

  The only way I know how to thank them is by working hard. Their hard-earned money goes into my education, and I want to make sure they did the right thing. I study harder than anyone else I know, and I make sure my grades are top notch.

  I don’t want to disappoint them. Not ever.

  I need to make sure
I graduate, find a good job, and make enough money so that I can support them. I want to give them back what they gave to me, and this is the only way to do it.

  I want to help them. I want to give back to them.

  So I’m glad as hell that I have this stinking job as a waitress in a sloppy burger joint.

  Besides, working here lets me think of something other than homework for once in a while.

  My hands hurt, and I’m tired, but I won’t stop serving customers and cleaning tables. I don’t want my boss to fire me, so I do my best and put up my biggest smile as I hand over the cash to one of the customers.

  As day turns into night it gets harder to keep my eyes wide open. I have to, though. I’ve been watching a group of smug guys for some time now. They’re sitting in the corner of the restaurant, ordering burger after burger while throwing all their trash on the floor. Scary, nasty bunch.

  Some of them have tattoos, others scars, and some of them even have shaved heads. Their clothes are ragged and the shirts they’re wearing have murderous phrases written all over them, probably from the lyrics of a song that would make me scream.

  Just looking at them makes me feel icky.

  When they finish eating they burp out loud and scare away the other customers with nasty jokes. My manager is in the back and doesn’t see what they’re doing. Throwing around food and wrappings isn’t my idea of having a nice time with your friends, but I guess there are real jerks out there who like that kind of stuff.

  I stare at the clock and let out a sigh of relief when I realize it’s finally past my time. “You can go, Autumn. Thanks for working your ass off today,” my manager says.

  “Thanks,” I say, and he hands me a few dollars.

  “For your trouble. I know how hard it is,” he says with a wink.

  I blush. “Thanks … But you don’t need to do that.” I want to push it back into his hand, but he clenches my hand together.

  “Keep it. I won’t take no for an answer.” He smiles and I smile back. “I’ll close on my own. You go get some rest,” he says.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. See you,” I say.

  I put on my coat and walk into the restaurant. There’s only one exit, and it’s in the front, so I’ll have to pass that annoying group of guys. As I walk past them, my heart rate elevates, because I feel like they’re dangerous. Guys like those are frightening. Too impulsive. Too worked up. Especially when they’re around friends.