A Rose to Keep (The Society 1)

Drew came scrambling into the hallway, picking me up with my toys, then carried me to my bedroom.

She stroked my hair back and took care of my hand. I had a bruise on it for weeks, and Drew took the pain away by drawing a silly face on my hand.

I grazed the spot where he’d touched now, coming out of the memory.

How had I forgotten this?

Pressing my face to my hands, I tried to breathe deeply, but my chest felt tight. The dress was too tight. I quickly tore at it, not caring as some of the seams gave way under my onslaught of panic. There was no way I wanted to wear this dress. I threw it in a pile and quickly pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a large shirt.

Staring down at the dress, I felt the pain in my thigh and the back of my neck. My hair was still pulled back into a ponytail. I went to the mirror to check out the damage and nibbled on my lip.

Finger marks dotted my skin. With the pressure he’d used, he’d marked me.

Tears filled my eyes at the memory. Now I grabbed the waistband of my sweatpants and pushed them down to my knee. There were finger bruises there as well. I would need to make sure my skirt didn’t ride up. I didn’t want anyone to see this damage.

After picking up the dress, I threw it into the trash can, then went to my bed. Curling up in a ball, I tried to ignore the white noise that seemed to surround my head.

So much noise. I wanted it to stop.

“Breathe in and out, Sian. No one can harm you here. You’re safe.”

Drew’s words. Was that why she took me away, to live safely? I missed her so much, and right now, I wanted nothing more than for her to wrap her arms around me and tell me it was all going to be okay.

Chapter Eight

Gideon

Saturday morning was uneventful.

We’d all chosen to stay in Friday to wait and see what would happen with Sian. She didn’t come to our dorm, and we were all still alive. The cafeteria was quiet, not that it was a surprise. Some kids were more than willing to go back to their folks during the weekend and only lived here throughout the week.

Dante was scribbling in his book, taking bites of food in between. William typed something into his cell phone. Mateo was off in his own little world, and I kept an eye on the door, tapping my fingers on the countertop, wondering what shit my father had caused.

It wasn’t like hating your parents was new news. So, Sian hated her parents. We all hated ours. It didn’t change what was meant to happen.

My father had texted me last night to say the issue had been resolved.

What did that even mean?

I hadn’t been able to sleep most of last night with waiting to see how Sian handled what we wanted from her.

After finishing off some toast, I sipped at my coffee and waited.

We sat in the cafeteria for an hour before I finally saw her.

At first, I didn’t recognize the rose within her grasp. I took in her pale face. Her hair fell around her in luscious waves, but there was something off about her. She still limped and she wore a pair of dungarees with a single white shirt. One of the straps had fallen down her shoulder.

People noticed the rose she carried. Cell phones came out as she approached our table.

The closer she got, her bloodshot eyes and red-tipped nose were easy to see.

Gone was the wild cat with the attitude.

I didn’t know why, but I didn’t like this version of Sian. She was … submissive. The fight had gone right out of her.

She placed the rose down on the tabletop, but this wasn’t a victory. This was … empty.

“I accept,” she said. Her voice sounded raw as if she’d been crying.

“Sian—”

“I do have some conditions.” She took a seat, not looking at any of us. Her hands were shaking, and I wanted to reach out to touch her. She looked like she was falling apart.

“What conditions?” I asked.

I glanced around at the guys, and they saw it too.

“You have to leave Heather alone. She has a whole future ahead of her, and I don’t want it messed with in any way.”

“We wouldn’t hurt her,” I said.

She still hadn’t raised her eyes to mine.

“I want my own room. Heather told me that I have to move into your dorm. That it is expected of me.”

“We can handle that,” I said.

“I don’t … I’ve never … I don’t want to be forced to have sex with you at any time. I don’t want you touching me unless you have to. This is in name only. I don’t care if you find someone else to enjoy your time with. I don’t want to be anything to you. I’ll pretend for everyone, take whatever crap they have to say and the name-calling, but that is where it ends,” she said.