Ruthless Kings (Windsor Academy 2)

Both guys and girls have been flinging insults at me under their breath. I’ve been propositioned by meatheads or preppy douchebags at least a dozen times.

“Hey, Jasmine. I have a question for you,” Jarod, my physics partner, whispers.

Oh, this should be good. Jarod’s a jock—a baller, I think—and he’s also a colossal dickhead. He’s one of those dudes who thinks he’s God’s gift to women, so he doesn’t handle blows to the ego very well. When I first came to Windsor, Jarod asked me out on a date. When I told him I wasn’t interested, he acted like he was joking, and he’s treated me like shit ever since.

“What, Jarod?”

I glance at the clock and see that we have less than two minutes before the bell rings. Thank fuck.

“I heard something interesting about you, and I wanted to know if it was true."

I arch an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

He smiles lasciviously. “I heard that you weren’t really assaulted.” The asshat actually uses air quotes on the last word. “That what really happened was rough sex that went south. They say you're like, a total freak in bed, and you're into blood play."

I’m so shocked, I can’t even form words. I just stare at him like an idiot as he continues.

"You know..." Jarod trails his finger down my forearm, and thankfully, I somehow have the wherewithal to jerk away. "If that's why you turned me down, you should reconsider. I'm up for some kink if that's what you're into."

My heart beats rapidly as images from that night flash through my head. Fuck, my chest hurts. Black spots dance across my vision. I'm too busy trying to ward off a panic attack to respond to Jarod's ridiculous accusation. When the bell rings, the other students can't get out of the room fast enough, but I'm frozen.

Jarod stands up and leans into my ear, completely oblivious to my impending meltdown. “You don’t have to answer me right now. Just think about it.”

I take deep breaths as I watch Jarod's cocky ass saunter out of the room, making no effort to leave my table.

Fuck.

I need to get myself together. I refuse to let them own me like this. I control my emotions—not any of these Windsor assholes or my would-be rapists. I continue my breathing exercises.

In...and out. In...and out. In...and out.

“Miss Callahan, is everything all right?” our teacher, Mrs. Nguyen, inquires. “Miss Callahan?”

I blink, looking toward the front of the room where her desk sits. “What?”

She rounds her desk and sits on the edge. “I asked if you were okay. You look...pale. Do you need a pass to the health room?”

I’ve never been pale a day in my life, but I get the point.

I take a few more deep breaths for good measure and shake my head. “No, I’m okay. Just spaced out, I guess.”

She looks skeptical. “If you’re sure...”

“I’m positive. I skipped breakfast, so I’m a little out of it. Good thing lunch is next period, huh?” I stand up and sling my book bag over my shoulder. “I’ll be good as new once I get some food in my stomach.”

Her eyes follow my every move as I approach the front of the classroom. I offer her a smile as I walk past her desk, trying to escape without an interrogation. Right before I reach the door, she calls my name.

Damn it.

I turn around. “Yes?”

Mrs. Nguyen’s lips press together. “Jasmine, I heard what happened to you after homecoming. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’d be happy to listen.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, steeling my resolve. “Thanks, but, uh...I’ll be fine.”

“If you change your mind, it’s an open-ended offer. Have a good lunch, Miss Callahan.”

When I step into the hallway, Reed is waiting for me. I tried telling them I don't need a babysitter, but Ainsley or one of the guys has walked me to each of my classes so far today. Safety in numbers, or some shit like that.