OLEANDER
On this day, I stopped believing in God.
Six years ago
A wave of nausea crawled up my throat at the sickening sight before me.
My brothers lay on the floor. Still. Silent. My father knelt between them, blood streaking the tiles beneath him. Tears rolled down my cheeks slowly.
"Where is your daughter? I know you have one." The man barked. "Search the damn room and bring her out!" He ordered his men while I crouched, clapping a hand over my mouth not to make any noise.
"Please, Black, forgive me. I did everything I could," my father whispered, clutching at the man's leg.
"Bastardo. I crawled. Begged, and you ignored every word. Now you want mercy?" He snarled, raising his gun at my father's head.
"Please…"
"Go greet the goddess."
The gunshot cracked through the house. The echo rattled in my skull and dragged me back into the present. I flinched, wrapping my arms around myself as my breath stuttered.
I stared at the goosebumps that riddled my skin. I knew it had nothing to do with the room's air conditioning.
But the nightmare. It was back. Never stopped. No matter how much Temazepam I swallowed. I tried ODed, and instead of dying, I stayed alive.
I ran. Hide. But I still saw him. Chasing after me. That cruel, sick grin on his face. Those beautiful turquoise blue eyes that tormented me each time I closed my eyes. Those…
"Ivy,"
I snapped out of my daze, staring at the woman sitting behind the huge brown desk. Mrs Lauren Chow. Her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, looking at me with worried eyes.
"Do you want a break?" She said in a soft voice. I swallowed thickly, shaking my head.
"I think it's best for you, Ivy. Miss Felix told me your grade has worsened, and you are at risk of being kicked out. You've gotten three warnings already." She said,
I drew in a sharp breath, staring at my worn-out shoes. The only pair I'd been wearing for like three years now. I had no money to afford any due to the debts hanging over my head.
My father died without leaving any monetary value. I couldn't even stay in our old house for fear of being taken by him. Hex.
"I'd love to help you, if you'd let me…"
"I said I'm fine," I snapped. I raised my head to glare at her. "I do not need a break. Stop treating me like I am a broken vase!"
Mrs Chow lifted both her palms, nodding slightly. "I understand. But you're hurting, Ivy. If you keep…"
"I'm done." I turned around, heading to the door. "Thank you for your time."
I picked up my backpack from the chair, stepping out of the room. Maybe I was rude to have brushed her off in that manner, but not like she'd understand my plight. She could only sit behind that polished desk and judge me. Show stupid concerns!
She wasn't the one who lost a father and six brothers in one day! She wasn't the one who was forced to hide from the enemy, change her name, appearance, the one who watched her father's head get blown off, with blood spattering all over the room, the entrails of her siblings…
I stood frozen on the spot as something smacked me hard on the face. My vision hazed. I blinked rapidly, staring at the floor, the white substance on my face falling to my shoes.
"Oh, she looks like the ghost herself!"
"Take a picture. She'll be the perfect poster for Halloween next week."
"Look here, say cheese, Poison Ivy!"
The sounds of the camera going off echoed in the air, while I stood there, legs trembling, fingers clenched around my bag strap.
"Hey, mouse."
A familiar voice snarled. Riley. My biggest bully in the whole of Stanton College. A day never passed by without him hitting me. My ribs still hurt from yesterday's assault. He and five of his gang had beaten me up so badly that I believed I should have died. But here I was.
"I'm talking to you, mouse!"
I flinched, biting hard on my lower lip. But I refused to look up.
"She's defiant," he chuckled. Then turned towards the crowd. "Can someone remind this little shit what I do to people like her who disobeys me?"
"Hit!"
"Hit!"
"Hit!"
The crowd that gathered began to chant. My head reeled, and a single tear dropped down my cheek. Yet, I couldn't move from where I was. My stupid legs chose the moment to stay rooted to the spot.
"Please," I whispered.
But Riley paid no heed. Or maybe he didn't hear me. He clasped a fistful of my hair and started to drag me toward the corner. He'd constantly assault me.
"Please!" I said, a little louder, tears pouring down my cheeks profusely. "I'm still hurt from yesterday. Let me heal before you beat me again!"
"Don't tell me what to do to my prey, bitch!" He snarled, slapping my cheek. My teeth sank into my lower lip at the force, and I tasted the metallic tang of blood.
Still, I didn't relent. I dug my heel into the tiles, resisting his pull, and looked around the hall, but everyone's phones were out. No one wanted to help. About to resign to my fate, I heard his voice.
"She begged you."
My head whipped around so fast to my right. A boy, about my age or maybe older, leaned against one of the lockers. His shirt hung loose from his pants, the top two buttons undone, revealing glimpses of tattoos curling up his chest, arms, and neck. Bold, considering it was strictly against school rules.
And then his face. That was what fascinated me the most. Always. Strong jawlines, angular-shaped face, and high cheekbones that might have looked ridiculous on a man, but on him, they only heightened his raw appeal. He flicked a lighter open and shut in his hand, the click steady, almost rhythmic. Then his eyes met mine.
Brief. Intentional. And then he looked away.
"And who are you to interfere?" Riley growled.
"Her protector?" He murmured, slanting his head, like he wasn't so sure himself.
"Protector or she's your slut?" Riley guffawed. The crowd that gathered joined the laughter. "How can a bloody outcast come here to tell me what to do?!"
"Because I can." My saviour said in the same monotonous voice. He pushed away from where he was, striding towards us. "Let her go."
"And if I don't? What will you do?" Riley grunted.
My saviour let out a low chuckle, though nothing about his expression showed amusement. He stepped in, closing the space between him and Riley, his height casting a long shadow.
"Please, stop," I whispered, cutting him off before he could say more.
I could feel the weight of every stare. The tension in the hallway clung to my skin. Riley wouldn't forget this. He'd make me pay for it later. I knew it. I didn't want things to spiral any further.
My saviour scoffed, turning to look at me. His gaze sent a chill down my spine. I hugged my arms to my chest and dropped my eyes to the floor.
"You're lucky." He said.
"Be a pussy and listen to what your whore…"
Riley's words were cut short as the stranger's fist slammed into his jaw. He staggered back, clutching his face in shock.
I gasped, a hand flying to my mouth as my eyes widened. "Why did you do that?"
"He deserved it," my saviour said calmly, flexing his knuckles.
"You bastard!" Riley snarled, his eyes blazing with fury.
This was bad. Really bad. I was definitely done for now. He'd make sure I paid for this. Twice over.
"Do you even know who my father is?" Riley shouted. "The mayor! I'll have you locked up, both of you. This psycho and his little whore. You'll rot for this!"
"Go ahead," my saviour murmured, sliding a hand into his pocket. He pulled out a card and flicked it toward Riley. It landed at his feet.
"Your father might be the mayor of Silverlake City, but mine's the sheriff of Silverlake County. I'm sure he'd love the excuse to toss his estranged son into his spotless little jail."
Then he grabbed my hand. "Come with me."
Without another word, he tugged me toward the doors, leaving Riley and the rest of the crowd frozen in place—eyes wide, jaws slack.