Jasmine reflexively glanced over her shoulder.
A boy stood behind her, wearing a gaudily patterned baseball jacket. His hair was dyed a brassy yellow, and dark circles shadowed his eyes, making him look like someone who stayed up all night or indulged in excess.
"No, thank you," Jasmine said, stepping back two paces.
Earlier, when this boy had strolled by, he only glimpsed Jasmine's profile—and already he'd been captivated. Now that he saw her face head-on, he was spellbound. Holy crap … she's that beautiful?
"What's the matter, pretty girl? Don't be so skittish." As he spoke, he closed the distance between them, leaning in. "Look at you—clearly you're not eating well, or taking care of yourself. Why don't I buy you dinner? I could even take you shopping for some new clothes. How does that sound?"
With that, he reached out to drape his arm around her shoulder.
Snap!
Jasmine slammed her palm into his wrist, swatting his hand away. She fixed him with the glare of an angry kitten, wide-eyed and fierce.
Though fury coursed through her veins, fear clawed at her heart. She wanted to run—but she worried: what if Grayson came looking for her and couldn't find her?
All she could hope for now was that this guy would take the hint and leave.
"Goddamn it, you ungrateful little bitch! You drew blood on my hand!" The boy's face contorted, his voice sharp and vicious.
Indeed, there was a thin trickle of blood running down his wrist—from the scratch Jasmine's nails had made. But he had it coming. Who told him to grope a girl like that?
"Goddamn it, you hurt me. You're coming with me to the hospital right now!"
He lunged at Jasmine and grabbed her in a tight bearhug. At the same time, he yanked a key fob out of his pocket and pressed a button. Not far down the street, the headlights of a Buick blinked to life.
His arms were much stronger than hers—Jasmine had always been frail, and these last few days, she'd felt weaker than ever.
"Let me go!" she struggled, but his arms locked around her waist like a python squeezing its prey, cutting off all strength in her legs. He hoisted her bodily and began dragging her toward the car.
Jasmine's mind raced: if she got into the car, nothing good would happen. The "hospital" excuse was just that—an excuse. Panic tightened her chest.
"Help! Somebody, help me!"
Her voice was weak—her lungs burning, her strength failing, and the boy's grip crushing her ribs. But just then, two girls walking on the sidewalk nearby noticed the commotion and halted in their tracks.
"What are you doing?" one of them called out.
"Oh, this is my girlfriend," the yellow-haired boy said, feigning concern. "She has epilepsy and sometimes freaks out. See? She just had a seizure again—she doesn't even recognize me when it happens. I'm taking her to the hospital because once she goes into one of these episodes, she's out of touch with reality. Look, she scratched me, see this cut?" He turned his wrist, revealing a red gash. He sighed dramatically. "They say epilepsy's a lifetime thing. Poor thing—I'm the only one who takes care of her. Thanks for asking, but you can't do anything. Why don't you just move along?"
"How touching," one girl muttered to the other, and they strolled away, unconcerned.
"Heh, pretty little thing," the yellow-haired boy purred into Jasmine's ear, licking his lips. "Today you're not going anywhere. You're so damn gorgeous, cute, and wild—I love that. I'm going to have my fun with you and leave you begging for more."
"Grayson!" Jasmine tried to shout. But she was already out of breath, her chest tight, her voice strangled in her throat until it died before it could even escape.
"Get in the car!" the boy roared, excitement and fury mingling in his voice as he swung open the passenger door, ready to shove Jasmine inside.
"Hey—Julian Ezra Blackwood—what the hell are you doing?!"
Suddenly someone shouted from behind. Jasmine felt the boy's arms jerk—his grip slackened. Seizing the moment, she wrenched herself free and whirled around, intending to thank whoever had intervened.
She stopped cold.
Three girls stood there—Kayla, Tiffany, and Destiny. Her former tormentors. Had they come to save her?
Jasmine didn't expect it. Though they had bullied her mercilessly in the past, here they were now, intervening to help.
"Kayla—thank you," Jasmine said, her voice trembling with relief.
Slap!
Kayla's heavy hand connected with Jasmine's cheek, splitting her lip in an instant. Blood welled and spilled down the corner of her mouth.
"Fuck you, slut. I can't believe you tried to seduce my man!" Kayla spat, her eyes burning with hatred. Then she kicked Jasmine in the ribs.
Jasmine crumpled to the ground. Pain seized her breath, and she fell limp, her entire body trembling. The past week had been brutal—working long hours, eating meager meals, living in squalor. Yesterday in the restaurant, Dante had scalded her with hot soup. Earlier tonight she'd fought so hard to break free, her strength had nearly given out. And now Kayla had cracked her face and beaten her down again.
She lacked the energy to even stand.
"Hey, Kayla!" A boy's anxious voice cut through the haze. Before, when Kayla had seen him dragging Jasmine, he'd feared Kayla would accuse him of cheating. His shoulders had tensed with dread—after all, Kayla was one of the Iron Bald Eagles' core "goddess" group, the fourth-ranked girl, and her family was powerful. Although he and Kayla were "officially" dating now, Kayla held the upper hand in their relationship.
Now, when Kayla accused Jasmine of hitting on him, he felt relieved—no blame would fall on him.
"Babe, this skank just came out of nowhere. I got out of the car, and she lunged at me, demanding I drive her around, show her off, like she was some prize. I told her I already have a girlfriend—so buzz off—but she kept trying to throw herself on me. She scratched me. Look at this," he sneered, presenting the scratch on his hand. Then, as Kayla watched, he walked forward and kicked Jasmine again. "I have a girlfriend—I'm not looking to fuck around, all right?"
Beside Kayla, Tiffany and Destiny glared at Jasmine like wolves. "Fourth sis," they said as one, "we can't let this slut get away with humiliating you. We have to teach her a lesson she'll never forget. She's directly challenged you by trying to steal your man!"
"She's nothing but trouble," Kayla snarled. "Ever since she moved into that dorm, all she's done is hunt for men to use. Little bitch, you still have some poor ass boyfriend back home, right? What, are you embarrassed by him because my man's so much better than some lame loser? You have the nerve to think you're his equal? You've got bear's-heart and leopard's-blood, you slut!"
With that, Kayla flicked her hand, and Tiffany and Destiny lunged at Jasmine. They yanked her up and hauled her into Kayla's presence.
Whap!
Kayla slapped Jasmine so hard her cheek burned. "Look at you, country bumpkin. You don't deserve my man one bit. You're lucky some loser named Grayson even glanced at you—he's the only one in your trailer park life who'd look your way. You two scum of the earth."
Whap!
Kayla struck again, and her palm left a bright red imprint on Jasmine's pale face. Jasmine's hair fell across her eyes, hiding her vision. The sidewalk had become a throng—onlookers gathered quickly.
"That skank tried to steal someone's boyfriend—don't you think she's getting what she deserves?" Tiffany and Destiny hollered over the crowd, pointing at Jasmine.
"Hell yeah, serve her right!"
"Damn right—dirty slut!"
"Look who it is—Fourth sis!" someone called from the back of the crowd as a few guys stepped forward. They were big, muscular, wearing Nike running shoes and tight workout pants—they looked like members of the school's fitness club.
"Diego, Nathaniel…" Kayla called their names, nodding in greeting as they approached.
"Hey, y'all see who this is?" Diego shouted to the gathered crowd, pointing at Kayla. "She's one of the Iron Bald Eagles' Seven Goddesses—the fourth goddess, Kayla!"
"Wow, it's a goddess from the Iron Bald Eagles! So elegant!"
"Damn, our school's royalty—she's gorgeous."
"Holy shit—is that the legendary Fourth sis?"
Excited murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"But did you see what that bitch did? She tried to snatch Fourth sis's boyfriend. She deserves to be stomped!"
"She's a total whore—good thing they're breaking her down!"
"Word has it, she's from some poor rural area. Her family's getting by on beans and rice. Instead of studying, all she thinks about is chasing after rich dudes. Pathetic."
Kayla smirked as the praise washed over her—being admired thrilled her. She took another swift kick at Jasmine, who was barely conscious on the ground.
"Better hope you're dead," Kayla muttered. She turned to the crowd. "Nobody help her—she got what was coming. Let her stay down there for a while."
"Yeah, leave her."
"Right."
Suddenly, a ripple of astonishment passed through the onlookers. Everyone saw a boy kneel down beside Jasmine and gently lift her up.
"Is she okay?" someone gasped.
"This can't be happening—who the hell is that guy?"
That boy stroked Jasmine's hair, his eyes dark with fury and sorrow. It was Grayson. As he knelt, pulling her into his arms, he ignored the jeers and insults around him. All he could focus on was Jasmine—her face pale, smeared with blood, her breathing shallow.
"Jasmine…"
Grayson's voice was a whisper, trembling. Tears welled in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks, dropping onto Jasmine's blood-soaked skin. "I just went to get Haagen-Dazs ice cream. You were so sweet—smiling and waiting for me at the curb. How did you end up like this? In a few short minutes, you got hurt so badly…"
"Who the hell is that little punk?" someone snickered.
"Yeah—he dares to stand up to Fourth sis? How pathetic."
"Wait—I recognize him! Isn't that the guy who found a million bucks and kept it all? He screwed over that poor sap, right?"
"That's him. A bitch and a thief—perfect match!"
The crowd erupted in cruel laughter.
"Grayson, you're back…seeing you makes me feel better…" Jasmine's voice wavered. She reached up with one trembling hand to brush Grayson's cheek. "Please take me away. I don't want to stay here. Let's go to the lake…I just want to be with you. I just want to lean on you…"
Tears fell from her cheeks like pearls.
A fierce roar tore from Grayson's throat. He threw back his head and howled to the night sky. "I swore that if anyone ever hurt you, I would tear the world apart for you. I swear—no one will ever bully you again. If anyone so much as lays a finger on you, I'll make the entire heavens tremble with my rage!"
"Dude's full of hot air," one spectator mocked.
"Is this guy nuts? Who does he think he is?"
"Think Fourth sis unstoppable? Let's see if she snaps him in half."
Laughter erupted again.
Grayson gently settled Jasmine on her feet. He stood and turned his back to the jeering crowd. His eyes locked onto Kayla. Step by step, he moved toward her.
Kayla snorted in contempt, pulling out a nail clipper and trimming her nails. "What do you want? You gonna hit me? Try it, loser."
"Fuck you," Grayson snarled, and without another word, he kicked her square in the chest, knocking the breath out of her.
Silence rippled through the throng as Kayla jerked backward, stumbling over her own feet. Shock registered across every face—Grayson dared to stand up to the Iron Bald Eagles' Fourth Goddess.
Kayla's eyes widened, and she gripped her ribs where he had struck—her skin reddening instantly. The crowd's jeers fell away like dead leaves in winter, replaced by a stunned hush. In that moment, Grayson's promise echoed above the noise: he would not let anyone harm Jasmine again.