Beautiful Hell: A Contemporary High School Bully Romance Page 18

  I’m not sure if Giselle wants me to stop, or the teacher or somebody else. It doesn’t matter. I can’t stop. My knuckles hurt. My left hand is almost paralyzed from the pain. My entire body is ablaze, and I am out of control.

  “Kira, that’s enough!” Elias’s voice cuts through.

  An arm snakes around my waist, and I’m pulled off Giselle. I see Lauren and the teacher kneeling around her. Lorna tries to touch her, but Giselle is all bloody and bruised and crying. She slaps Lorna’s hand away, then screams, fueled by the kind of humiliation she has never experienced before.

  Elias carries me out of the classroom. I’m kicking and flailing, eager to be free so I can take Giselle into round two. “Let me go!”

  “You are fucking done, unless you want to forfeit any chance you might have left at Julliard,” Elias replies, his tone cold and remarkably calm.

  The point is driven home, though, and the adrenalin oozes out of my body in a matter of seconds, through some absurd chemical process I can’t quite understand. All of a sudden, I am limp, a mere noodle in Elias’s grip, as he takes me farther away from the lab. I catch a glimpse of security officers and the school nurse rushing in there. Of course, Giselle had to put on a full drama show after the beating I just gave her.

  Fucking crybaby…

  “What I did to her is nothing compared to what she did to me,” I grumble, as Elias sets me down by one of the large hallway windows. My leg hurts—not just my ankle, but my whole leg. From the sole of my feet, all the way up to my hip, it hurts.

  This is the downside of adrenalin wearing off and reality setting in.

  I can barely stand, as Elias measures me from head to toe. “Dammit, my bag’s inside,” I snarl, aching for a fix. The painkiller is the only thing keeping me from falling apart at this point.

  “Oxy isn’t going to fix what’s wrong with you,” Elias says, his brow furrowed. “And you’re right. A couple of right hooks are nothing compared to what Giselle did to you.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are to judge my pain and my need of medication?!”

  A whole new kind of anger takes over. It’s a rare sentiment, tightly weaved into guilt and the thought that Elias is actually right. I’m just not ready to admit it. Maybe I should. Maybe if I just say it out loud, maybe… just maybe some of the pressure will go away. But my nerves are frayed. My ego is bruised. My fucking hair’s been set on fire. This is the worst possible moment to discuss my… addiction.

  “I’ve known you since we were kids, Kira. Granted, we were never friends, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know the struggle you’ve gone through. I understand how you feel. I saw you when they carried you out on that stretcher. I saw the pain in your eyes. Don’t think we’re strangers, Kira. We’re not strangers anymore. We haven’t been for a very long time.”

  It’s my turn to be speechless, as I simply gawk at him. I’m too tired, too muddled to think clearly. Leaning against the window frame, there isn’t much I can do with myself at this point. Giselle cries out in the background.

  “I’m gonna get you for this, you stupid bitch!” She barks, as the nurse helps her walk in the opposite direction, while the security guards talk to Lauren, Lorna and the chemistry teacher.

  “They’ll want to interview me,” I whisper, mentally bracing myself for a massive scandal. I can already hear Giselle’s mother’s shrill voice. The entitlement. The buffoonery. Nausea threatens to turn my stomach upside down, though I’m not sure it’s because of the smell of burnt hair or the idea of having to put up with Giselle’s mother.

  “Fuck the interview. Fuck everything else,” Elias tells me. “You’re losing yourself, Kira. You’re struggling with addiction. The mood swings, the bursts of anger… the champagne and Oxy incident… you have to start facing the facts, here. If you ever want to dance again, you have to get yourself clean. I can help you.” For a moment, I wonder if I heard him right. I must be looking confused, because Elias feels the need to further explain his offer. “No rehab clinic. No psychiatrist. No one needs to know. I’ll help you get clean.”

  Raising an eyebrow, I’m ridiculously close to a smirk. “Well, look at you, Betty Ford…”

  “Would you rather exist in this misery? Giselle will keep fucking with you, because she can smell your weakness. I had to take you to a hospital in order to get your stomach pumped, Kira. It’s not a fucking joke anymore, and you really need to start addressing this issue.”

  “And you somehow consider yourself qualified to help me?” I’m sweating, my breathing somewhat shallow as I feel a panic attack looming. It wouldn’t be the first, but this one is really coming at a bad time because no, I don’t want his help. And no, he’s not qualified. And even if he was…the way he fucking treated me…

  “You’re not the only one with this problem,” Elias says, pressing his hands on my shoulders, as if trying to pin me down, somehow. There is meaning in his words, and I find myself at a loss for words, as I see the pain behind his eyes. It’s so damn similar to the pain that the mirror reflects back at me. Elias exhales sharply. “I know what the numbness feels like, Kira. I know the darkness that follows, too. After my mother left, I was broken. After my father died, I was crushed. It took me years to figure out the truth about myself, but I did, Kira… it ain’t pretty, it ain’t easy.”

  “What was your poison?” I manage, trying to picture Elias at his worst. I can’t remember a single moment when I looked at him and thought him weak. He’s always come across as indestructible, a rough-cut diamond that can withstand anything. I suppose I was wrong. A lot can hide under one’s surface. I should know…

  “Zoloft,” Elias replies.

  “Miss Malone,” one of the security guards approaches us. The other one is still jotting down statements. Lead pulls my stomach down, the pain in my leg flaring furiously. I need a pill, now more than ever. “We need to talk.”

  “Of course we do,” I sigh, shaking my head slowly.

  Elias steps back, raising his chin. “Just… think about it,” he says to me.

  Staring at him for a couple of seconds, I nod in Giselle’s general direction. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to get to?” I know it’s a silly, but I simply can’t bring myself to be nice to him. Not right now, and not with everything that is happening at once.

  Deep down, I know he’s just told me an agonizing truth. In his eyes, I also saw that he wanted to help. I’m just not ready to admit that I need help. Let alone his help… out of all the people in this fucking world, it’s Elias Dressler that keeps pulling me back.

  He scoffs, wanting to say something, but he mutters instead, walking away. “Never mind.”

  I watch him leave, while the security guard starts asking questions. I’m not even listening, and it takes me a few seconds to move my focus back on the current issue: providing Trinity High with the right statement. Expulsion must not be an option. At best, I can suggest or get some of the school’s higher ups to suggest anger management therapy. Dad will go ballistic if I’m kicked out—the odds are slim, considering his frequent and sizeable donations, but I’ll rather try and be smart about this, going forward. Giselle has already taken too much from me.

  A smile splits my lips as I think of her bloody face. That felt so damn good…

  18

  Elias

  Sheldon brings me some interesting news in the evening. I welcome him in the salon, this time over a glass of whiskey. My insides are still broiling after what happened with Kira this morning, but I’ve got to focus. If Sheldon and I get this right, William Malone will soon meet his end—from a business perspective. Perhaps even a legal one.

  “How’s Tallulah?” I ask, watching Sheldon from my spot near the window. Outside, the night is settling, a starry sky twinkling above the vast greenery that surrounds my mansion. I can almost smell the acacia blossoms.

  “Worried,” Sheldon says, sinking into one of the sofas with a single malt in his hand. “She’s afraid William Malone will find out about
her.”

  “How can he?” I reply. “Joe was incredibly careful.”

  “If I could find her, so can he,” Sheldon reminds me. He’s right. I should never underestimate that man. He pitted his own daughter against me just so he can fuel his own hatred of our family.

  “So, she didn’t give you anything?”

  Sheldon shakes his head. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Well, then, enlighten me,” I say, my tone clipped. It’s enough for Sheldon to notice.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Sighing deeply, I take a seat in the armchair across from him.

  “Where do I begin?” I mutter, scratching my stubble. I haven’t shaved in a couple of days, though I’m starting to prefer this rugged feel. “Malone wants to do a joint charity event with me. For ALS. He invited me over to his house. He laid out the whole plan. As far as I can tell, it seems pretty simple and straightforward, with no hidden clauses or strings attached. But, for the life of me, I cannot trust this man.”

  “You shouldn’t,” Sheldon replies, pursing his lips. “He’s up to something. I’ll need every detail about this proposal, so I can check it all out.”

  Nodding, I pour myself another glass. “Kira and I… We almost had sex right after you left.”

  “Shit. Okay, so… that’s the second item on your list?” Sheldon chuckles. “You’re finally acting on your feelings?”

  For a moment, I’m not sure how to respond. “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, come on, Elias. I’m an old hound. I’ve lived aplenty. You’ve always had the hots for Kira Malone. You’ve always loved her, even when you were punching each other’s lights out back in junior high.”

  I’m completely blocked, and it makes him laugh.

  “It’s okay, Elias,” Sheldon says, catching his breath. “She’s one hell of a girl, I’ll give credit where it’s due. But I doubt you two will ever have the slightest shot at a relationship. Malone’S friendly approach on the charity side is just an act. He will blow a fuse if he hears you’re doing his daughter.”

  “I’m not… doing his daughter,” I blurt out, my temperature rising.

  He shoots me a grin. “Alright, alright. Let’s leave that aside for now. Priorities, Elias.”

  “Right. Tallulah. What did she tell you?”

  “Joe said he was going up to Baltimore, three days before he died. He mentioned this to Tallulah, adding that Malone had set a meeting there,” Sheldon replies.

  “I checked every single statement in that case file,” I say. “Malone’s alibi was confirmed by Kira and the maid. They both heard him in the house the same day that Joe died. Sometime around the morning, I think.”

  “Right, but we both know it takes about five hours to drive to Baltimore from Hampton Heights. And the PI I hired checked Malone’s internet activity. He’s got a total of ten hours that afternoon and early the next day when he didn’t send a single message or even check his social media.”

  I can’t help but smile. “You paid someone to hack into his computer?”

  “Your words, not mine,” Sheldon smirks. “Anyway, point is… Malone has two sets of five idle hours that afternoon and the morning after. He could’ve driven up to Baltimore. He could’ve killed Joe and made it look like suicide. He could’ve come back just as easily. The maid doesn’t spend the nights at the mansion, and Kira was at a sleepover that evening, if I remember correctly.”

  “And since the cops suspected a suicide from the very beginning, they didn’t bother to really dig into the alibies they were provided with,” I mutter, genuinely frustrated by what a sly bastard William Malone really is.

  “Exactly. Our issue now is that the PI couldn’t find any CCTV footage of William or his car. From the looks of it, he never left the house,” Sheldon says. “We’re still digging into the Baltimore motel, trying to get into their CCTV circuit… maybe they can give us something useful.”

  “What, like Malone strutting out of Fowler’s room?” I scoff. Knowing Kira’s father, I doubt they’ll find such compelling evidence. Even so, I’m not ready to give up. Hell, we’re just getting started. This is why each of my interactions with Kira put so much pressure on me. I want us to move on, to maybe even get closer to one another…

  But William Malone is on the loose. And he’s plotting something against me.

  “You’ll be talking to Tallulah again, right?” I ask, and Sheldon gives me a brief nod. “Good. Hopefully, she remembers something useful. I look forward to your next briefing on the topic.”

  “That aside, we need to talk about this ALS charity thing,” Sheldon says. “I’m not sure you should get involved…”

  I shrug. “I bought us some time, to begin with. Told Malone I needed to do my due diligence, from a legal standpoint. I’m guessing that’s about two weeks, during which time you can turn every stone and maybe even figure out what his real angle is.”

  A knock on the main door brings our conversation to a sudden halt. I stare at him for a moment, well aware that I’m not expecting anybody. He’s about to get up, so I motion for him to sit down. “Hold on,” I say. “Let me just see who it is.”

  As soon as I open the door, however, nausea tightens a grip on my throat.

  “Hey, Elias,” Giselle says. Her right eye is purple and swollen beneath the oversized sunglasses. Half her face is bruised. Her lower lip is split, and she still has cotton rolls up her nose, though I know there’s nowhere there’s still blood gushing through her nostrils. Despite her grotesquely battered upper body, Giselle is wearing a cream overcoat, tied around the waist. My guess is there’s some piece of lace lingerie underneath and nothing else. Her expression tells me everything I need to know.

  She’s cock-hungry and hoping she’ll get me back—which is ridiculous, to begin with, considering how we ended our last conversation. I have to admit, I’m equal parts amused and intrigued. I would like to see what she’s hoping to gain out of this.

  “Giselle,” I mutter. “What are you doing here?”

  “I… Well…” She pauses and peeks into the house, spotting Sheldon in the grand salon. “Ah, you’ve got company…”

  “Not at all!” Sheldon replies, shooting out of his seat. “I’m actually on my way out.”

  I glare at him, hoping he’d get the hint. He does, but he probably finds this whole situation rather amusing, so he just grabs his phone and briefcase, then walks over to the door and shakes my hand.

  “Sheldon,” I warn him.

  “I’ll see you bright and early in the morning,” Sheldon says, then gives Giselle a polite nod and leaves me behind.

  “Not too early, I hope,” Giselle giggles, watching him go. She turns her head and puts on a pained smile. “I’ve missed you, Elias.”

  “Are you high, Giselle?”

  She blinks rapidly, as if I’m the one who’s not making sense. “What? Why? Why would you ask that, honey?”

  “Honey? Did Kira punch you so hard that you forgot our last conversation?” I ask, finding it increasingly harder not to laugh in her face. Normally, any man with a healthy sexual appetite would find Giselle extremely appealing—what the poor girl doesn’t seem to realize is that her face is not her strong point right now.

  “Elias, you pulled her off me. You saved me, honey. It’s only fair that I reward you for your heroism,” she purrs, inching closer.

  My skin crawls. She’s no longer a trigger. The irony does not escape me, since the first time I saw Giselle I wound up walking around with a five-hour boner. I guess it’s true what they say about beauty on the inside. Sadly, I know Giselle well enough. Her soul is black and shriveled and ugly—which is a terrible thing to say about a young woman like her… yet it’s the truth. A truth a lot of people would say about me too.

  “I pulled Kira off you because she doesn’t deserve to get expelled over your garbage,” I say, pointing a finger at her overcoat. “Let me guess, you’re wearing some Victoria’s Secret thingy underneath, assuming I’ll fuck you tonight. Is that
what you were thinking when you came here?”

  As if squirted with holy water, Giselle begins to transform. Whatever she’d planned is already falling apart, right in front of her, in real time. And she’s not mentally equipped to deal with such failure and rejection.

  “Elias… I came here because I missed you…”

  “I don’t doubt that. But I thought I made myself clear, Giselle. You and me? It’s never happening again. My intervention today was in Kira’s favor, not yours. Personally, I would’ve let her break you into little bits and pieces, because that’s what you deserve. But legally speaking, Kira deserves a better future. You’ve fucked her over one too many times, already. I just couldn’t let it happen again.”

  “Pot calling the kettle black? Or what the hell is this? As far as I know, you’ve never exactly shied away from teaching her a lesson.”

  “What Kira and I have is different.

  She scowls and it’s impossible to miss the anger flaming bright red in her eyes. “So, you do like that psycho skank, huh?”

  “I don’t know if she’s the psycho skank in this scenario, since you’re the one who lit her hair on fire, then showed up on my doorstep all cock-hungry.”

  Giselle tries to slap me, but I catch her wrist. “If you strike, Giselle… I will break you. And I think you’ve had enough poundings for one day,” I say, gritting my teeth.

  She stares at me, her eyes popping with sheer disbelief. She actually thought this act would work, somehow. It turns out she is not as smart as she likes to think she is—then again, a smart woman would’ve never tripped another just to get ahead. That alone should’ve been enough of a warning sign, but I was too hyped up about pissing Kira off to fully understand what I was getting myself into.

  No more, though. This is the end of the road for Giselle.

  “You’re going to regret this,” she hisses, baring her teeth at me. Only then do I notice the chipped canine. Until she gets a veneer on it, she’ll always see it as a mark of Kira’s victory over her.