Chapter 18

I’m exhausted walking into school. Despite sleeping better than I have in a long time, I feel so drained. My throat hurts, my eyes and nose still sting, there are bruises on my hips and a soreness between my legs that makes me blush to think about.

If I’m this sore after a couple of fingers in me, what the hell will it feel like after taking a cock?

“Good morning, Cora,” Mr. Marx calls across the hallway as I race to class. I don’t want to be late, but I grind to a halt and give him a polite smile.

“Good morning, Sir.” He smirks at my words, making me frown. What did I say? “I guess it’s a good sign that you came back for a second day?” I joke.

He chuckles. “It’ll take more than hormonal teenage girls to scare me away. Tell me…do you scare easily, Cora?”

What a strange question. I laugh awkwardly, but thankfully I’m saved from having to answer by the bell ringing. “Better get to class, I don’t want to be late.”

I turn and race away toward Lizzy, who’s at the far end of the corridor, waving to me like a loon.

“Hey girl, what did Mr. Mc Hot Stuff want?” she asks, waggling her eyebrows at me.

I frown. She thinks Mr. Marx is hot? Is he? “Umm, he was just saying hi,” I reply, distracted. I swear I just saw Slater’s car leaving the parking lot, but why would he be here? And if he was, he could have offered me a lift again.

He’s acting so strange lately.

“Earth to Cora? Hello?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Come on, Cor. We’re going to be late. You sure are acting strange lately,” Lizzy says, echoing my own thoughts about Slater.

As we walk to class, I’m so distracted that I walk into the back of a jock. He’s wearing a football uniform, and smells like sweat.

“Shit, my bad,” I mumble, backing up to go around him, when the beast whirls on me.

“Watch it,” when he sees it’s me, he sneers. “Slater’s bitch sister,” he scoffs, stepping into me, his friends closing in at his sides.

“Fuck off, Steven!” Lizzy snaps, practically hissing at the jock asshole.

“No, I don’t think I will. You know, your brother was such a fucking dickhead. Walking around here like he was better than the rest of us. Just like you. You think you’re too good for us, huh?” His size is intimidating, but his aggressive demeanor is equally frightening.

“There a problem here?” a deep, angry voice cuts through the tension, and I take the opportunity to retreat.

Lizzy grabs my arm and yanks me away, as Mr. Marx steps between me and the aggressive jocks.

“No, sir,” I mumble, because even though they deserve it, I don’t want to make a scene and get the beloved school jocks into trouble. It would turn this whole school against me. No, thanks.

“Don’t lie to me,” he snaps, turning away from the jocks just long enough to scold me. “I watched them harass you.”

“Everything is fine here, Mr. Marx. Cora and I were just talking,” Steven says with a smirk, but Mr. Marx seems unconvinced.

“About what?”

“About her sense of direction. She stumbled a bit, and I was just giving her a hand.”

“Are you sure you weren’t bitching about her stepbrother?” Mr. Marx lifts a brow.

“Not at all.” Steven shoots our teacher a phony grin, and Mr. Marx steps into him.

“If I catch you within ten feet of her again, I’ll assume you’re threatening her, and I’ll intervene. Do you like being on the football team? Because if so, I’d heed the warning,” Mr. Marx warns, before dismissing the jocks and turning to me. “If they lay a hand on you, you come and find me. I’ll handle it.”

And then he’s stepping away, and I’m…so freaking confused.

“Holy hot sauce, Batman! That was sexy as fuck! Mr. Marx has the hots for you, for sure!” Lizzy whisper-screeches.

I shake my head.

“He’d do that for any student, calm yourself,” I tell her.

And although I don’t entirely believe my own words, I don’t feel like Lizzy is right either. Mr. Marx is intense, but I don’t sense attraction from him. He seems more…protective? Possessive, maybe.

Which is confusing as fuck, and leaves me questioning why? Does it have anything to do with his friendship with Slater? Or is there something else going on that I’m not aware of?

Thankfully, the rest of the day passes without incident and the jocks give me a wide berth. I didn’t know anyone had beef with Slater. I thought he was popular, especially amongst his teammates. But then again, there was that whole thing with Jessy at the party.

After school, I’m surprised to find Slater sitting on my porch, his SUV parked in the driveway.

“Hey,” he says, standing to greet me when I reach the door.

“Slater,” I say, my tone cold. “What are you doing here?”

“Your mom asked me to stop by. She said there’s a fuse that needs changing and a couple of odd jobs she’s been meaning to do. I offered to help. She works too hard to find the time for maintenance. But if you’d rather I left, I can go and leave the jobs for some other time,” he tells me.

I’m an asshole, and I’m acting like one. It doesn’t matter that hearing my mom and Slater are in contact – may always have been in contact behind my back – makes me feel so damn uncomfortable. What matters is mom’s getting the help with the things we don’t have time to do.

“No, no. I’m sorry. Come on in.” I let him in.

“You moved the spare key,” he comments.

“So that’s why you’re on the doorstep. You tried to let yourself in already, but couldn’t.”

He laughs. “If I wanted to get into your house, moving the spare key to the plant pot in the back garden isn’t going to stop me, Cora.”

He’s right, of course he is. I should know that by now.

“Have you eaten?” I ask, when we reach the kitchen.

“I’m fine, thanks. I’m planning on taking your mom out to dinner to thank her for her hospitality.”

“What hospitality?” I demand.

He shrugs. “She’s welcomed me back into her life and is making me feel welcome.”

The implication that I have not sits heavy, though unspoken.

“That’s nice,” I say, before I pause and realize I haven’t said a single nice thing to him in the last five minutes of conversation. “I’m glad you came by to help. Mom’s been at the hospital all week. All month, it feels like. I guess it’s good that no one is in a rush for the house to be finished,” I say.

“She hasn’t slowed down,” he says. “You know how your mom is.”

I nod. “Yeah. But…” I hesitate. I don’t want to bad mouth his dad, but it’s his fault we’re in such dire straits.

“Hey, it’s okay. I get it. My dad’s a dick. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for him.”

“I’m not. I’m apologizing for me. I promise, I’ll try to come around more. I’ll help where I can. I should have done more.”

“You know my mom wouldn’t take your money, Slater. She barely takes it from me.”

“And how are you making money, Cora? Still just working at the ice cream place?” I hesitate at the slight stress he places on the word just. I shiver.

“Yeah,” I reply, avoiding his gaze and laughing nervously. “Just the ice cream parlor. They’ve given me some extra shifts and responsibilities. They let me work the closing shift and cash out now. I guess I proved myself.”

“You close up on your own?” He frowns. “I don’t like that.”

“It’s ice cream sundaes, not a cocktail bar. It’s not like it’s late when we close up.”

“I don’t like the idea of you on your own. I don’t care if it’s broad daylight, Cora. That’s not safe.”

“I’m fine. I can handle myself.”

“Can you though?” he asks, staring at me intently, making me squirm. His gaze is too knowing.

Shit. Did Mr. Marx tell him what happened at school today? Should I mention it? Ask why that jock hates him so much?

I chicken out.

“I’ll show you what needs to be done.”

I lead him back into the hallway, to the cupboard under the stairs where the fuse box is, and show him the old fuse that needs changing.

“Just put a new fuse in and when mom gets home she can show you what else is needed.”

“There’s no rush,” he says with a shrug. “I’ll make myself at home.”

“I have to get ready for work.”

“Be careful, okay?” he says.

I nod. “I will.”

I have a sudden urge to hug him, which is insane because we’ve never had that kind of relationship, so I race away up the stairs to put some distance between us.

Hours later, I’m avoiding eye contact with the rowdy jocks, Steven included. I can sense their nagging stares. Right now, my coworker, Jessica, is still here, so they haven’t tried to pull anything.

Thankfully, she doesn’t clock out for a few more hours. Just before closing. I highly doubt anyone is going to fuck with me while she’s here.

She’s a no-nonsense kind of worker. Older than me by a few years, and has no interest in high school shit. She’ll kick them out, and they know it.

So far, Steven has complained about all three of the ice creams I made for him. Jessica finally stepped in and made his last order. Thankfully, no one seems inclined to fuck with her.

All the jocks fucked off about half an hour later, right around the time Mr. Marx showed up.

At first, he just sat in a nearby booth, staring the jocks down until they left. Now, thirty minutes later, he’s watching me. It’s creepy as fuck.

By the time I’m closing the shop and getting ready to leave, I’m feeling flinchy. Mr. Marx left shortly after Jessica, and I went about my closing duties.

As I’m locking the shop door, I let out a sigh of relief. Nothing happened. I was paranoid for no reason. I let Slater get into my head.

“How much for a blow job?” a demanding, angry voice snaps behind me, and I gasp, jumping as I spin to face him.

Steven. Great.

“Not funny. Leave me alone,” I hiss, trying to push past the imposing jock.

“Wasn’t a joke. How much? Three bucks?” He snorts a laugh. “How about this? I’ll give you ten bucks, and you blow all three of us.”

His friends flank him, and I pale.

The look of pure hatred in their eyes sends a shiver down my spine.

“I don’t want any trouble,” I say, looking for a way out of this.

The street is empty, and the parking lot is too far away. I can’t get to my bike unless these fuckers get out of my way, and I doubt I can outrun the three of them. They are jocks, after all. The only thing they’re good at is sports. And terrorizing me.

Steven cages me in against the wall, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck…

I wait for him to hurt me. To attack me like he so clearly intends to. But the pain never comes. Instead, the sound of flesh pounding flesh fills the air as Steven grunts, and his body is yanked away. My eyes fly open.

Slater is there.

“Next time, I’ll gut you, and leave your dead body on the sidewalk. Fuck off!” Slater snarls, as the three men who were so ready to harm me turn tail and run off. I let out a sigh of relief, until I see the look on my stepbrother’s face. He’s livid.

“I told you this would happen! You’re not being careful enough! You have to take better care of yourself, Cora!” he snaps, grabbing my arm roughly and yanking me away.

“Calm down!” I cry, as I try to free my arm from his painful grip. It’s no use though. His hold is unbreakable as he drags me to his car. Without a word, he opens the passenger door, pushes me inside and belts me in. He slams the door before I can protest, then shoves my bike in the cargo area, but once he climbs into the driver’s seat I turn and open my mouth to give him hell.

“I’m not a fucking rag doll, you don’t need to yank me around like that!”

Slater says nothing, but his grip on the wheel tightens until I swear I hear the leather cracking.

He tears out of there at breakneck speed, making me clutch the edges of my seat.

“Slater! Slow down!” The speedometer inches upward and I struggle to swallow around my fear. “Calm down,” I beg on a whisper.

“Calm down! Do you know what they wanted to do to you?” Slater hisses, and my mind flashes to the moment with the masked man in my bathtub…

“Yeah, I think I have some ideas,” I hiss right back, over this protective bullshit. Where was he when I really needed saving?

He snorts derisively, which just pisses me off even more. And he’s continuing to drive like a lunatic.

“They attacked me because of you!” I snap, as Slater runs a red light. Fuck. I don’t want to die arguing with him about some assholes from school.

“I’m taking you home since you’re incapable of keeping yourself safe!” He’s fuming, and so am I. I wait until he reduces his speed a little before I respond.

“They wouldn’t have been an issue, if not for you! Why do they hate you so much? What did you do!?” I demand, but Slater ignores the question.

“If I have to save your ass again, there will be consequences, Cora. Do you understand?” His threat is clear. Asshole. What does he think he can do to me? Ground me? Ha.

“Whatever.” I shake my head, as he parks outside my house. He turns to me, sighing heavily.

“I just want you to be safe.” As he reaches out to brush the hair behind my ear, I hold his intense stare and try really hard not to flinch away from his touch. I can see he’s still mad but he’s making a real effort to calm himself. For me.

I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. My stepbrother is hypnotic. Fuck, why is he so attractive? So unattainable?

“If anything with those shitheads happens at school again, you can trust Marx.”

That throws me. I frown. “Why?”

“He’s a friend. Just trust me, please, Cora.”

Maybe it’s the desperate look in his eyes, or the gentle tone that persuades me, but I nod my head.

“Okay, Slater, I trust you.”

I hope those words don’t come back to bite me on the ass. I don’t have the best track record for trusting guys.