I Despise You: A Dark High School Bully Romance Page 8

  “You didn’t really think that email was real, did you?” He grins.

  I gape at him.

  He spoofed the email. It’s him who sent it and not the teacher. No wonder this place is so dark and quiet.

  I’m fuming. I want to punch Chase and tell him he can’t play with me like that. I should’ve inspected the email more carefully, but I never would’ve guessed it was a trick.

  “You can’t just send me fake emails!” I ball my fingers into fists.

  “You need a break. Come on. Let’s go.”

  “No, I don’t need a break! Especially not with you! You can’t just—”

  “Yes, I can, and I won’t take no for an answer. You and I are going to lunch.”

  I grit my teeth. He can’t do this to me. I have the email as proof and I can report him for sending it. But that won’t help me achieve anything, will it?

  Chase knows that, and that’s why he did it. It’s possible someone else did it for him, so the whole thing won’t even lead to him. He can say he got the same email and that someone set us both up.

  “Why do you even want to go to lunch with me?” I ask. “Don’t you have a bunch of friends who can sit with you at the cafeteria?”

  “Who said anything about the cafeteria?”

  I crease my brow. “I don’t understand.”

  Where else can we have lunch?

  In his room? I’m not ready to go back there.

  “We’re going out. There’s a nice restaurant not too far away. You’re going to like it.” He offers his hand to me.

  “What? No. We can’t leave the campus without permission.”

  Chase snorts. “Who needs permission when we can sneak out?”

  I swallow past the lump forming in my throat.

  It’s a trap. If we get caught, he’ll get away with it, but I won’t. I don’t have a rich family to bail me out of every trouble I get myself into.

  I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid. I do this all the time, and I’ve never gotten caught.” He moves and grabs my hand so fast that I don’t have time to react. “Come on.”

  He grips my hand and pulls me with him. I let him lead me to the door because I can see there’s no changing his mind. This is my chance to find out more about him. Maybe.

  Chase knows exactly where to go, and he glances at the watch on his wrist before taking me to the back exit.

  I expect alarms to go on when he opens the door, but nothing happens. He breaks into a run and I follow him. His black Porsche is waiting for us in the parking lot.

  Once I’m alone with Chase in his car, which seems so damn tiny, fear grips my insides. His eyes briefly meet mine before he brings the engine to life. But it’s not just fear that I can feel.

  It’s excitement and adrenaline too. We’re doing something wrong. Dangerous too.

  If anyone at the school finds out, we’ll be in trouble. And the scariest thought is that Chase can take me wherever he wants.

  I’m a fool.

  Only an idiot would get themselves in a situation like this one, and yet, here I am.

  When he pulls over in front of a small, cozy-looking restaurant, my brow furrows and I glance at him.

  “What?” he says. “You don’t like it? Not expensive enough for you?”

  “No, I just—” I guess I expected him to take me to some fancy, five-star restaurant to try to impress me, especially if he knows my family isn’t really rich.

  Or maybe he doesn’t know, and he thinks he’s going to shock me. Actually, when I look at Chase, I have no clue what’s going on in his head.

  I don’t even know what he’s doing right now. Is he trying to seduce me before I seduce him? I don’t get him at all.

  “This is my favorite restaurant in this town,” he says and gets out of the car.

  I don’t move, wondering what the hell I’m doing.

  Chase opens the door for me, so I get out of the car. When we enter the restaurant, the staff greets him with honest smiles and cordiality.

  Chase must come here often, and they seem to genuinely like him. Unless they just like the tips he leaves. But maybe I don’t know Chase at all.

  I don’t know if everyone thinks he has permission to come here, since we’re both wearing our school uniforms, so it’s impossible not to know where we’re from, or if they don’t care.

  We take a seat at one of the tables in the corner, and after we order our food, I look around, avoiding Chase’s intent gaze.

  “Do you like it?” he asks.

  “It’s nice,” I admit.

  “Good.” He gets to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  I lean on the table. It’s still not too late to leave, but there’s no point. We’re at a restaurant. I’m safe here. I should be.

  Maybe all Chase wants is just lunch. Now that I can smell food, I’m hungry too.

  When Chase returns, something cold brushes my leg under the table, making me jerk back. Chase is looking at me with a smile on his face.

  His fingers. They’re moving up my leg.

  He must’ve washed his hands in freezing water just to tease me, but the cold sensation against my heated skin feels better than I’m willing to admit.

  Luckily, the waiter comes with our food, and Chase pulls his hand back. I close my legs together as tightly as possible, but I can still feel the heat traveling through my center.

  I need a distraction so desperately that I dig into my food, not looking up from the plate.

  Chase laughs softly as if he can tell I’m trying my best to ignore him.

  “Try this,” he says, lifting his fork with a fry dipped in some kind of sauce.

  I eye him for a moment, but then I open my mouth. It tastes good, but some of the sauce smears around my mouth.

  Before I can reach for the napkin, Chase leans forward and brushes the tip of his finger over the corner of my lips. My skin tingles, but I ignore it as I return to my food.

  “Want some more?” he asks.

  “No.” I don’t look up at him.

  When there’s nothing left on my plate, I lift my gaze to Chase’s and wish I didn’t.

  He’s looking at me so intently, like he wants to see into my soul.

  His hand lands on my knee under the table, and I want to scoot away, but the waiter comes for the plates.

  Chase effortlessly talks to the waiter as his fingers creep up my leg. I clench my legs together, but he pushes through. His hand is between my thighs, his finger rubbing against my panties.

  When the waiter’s gone, I open my mouth to tell him to stop, but only a soft gasp exits my mouth. My legs part as Chase keeps rubbing me through my panties, creating little shocks of desire.

  “I can make you come. Right here, right now,” he says. “In front of all these people.”

  My mouth fights to form words, but I can’t say anything because I’m trying hard not to moan.

  He tugs my already wet panties aside, and one of his fingers dips inside me. It feels so good, and it’s stronger than any embarrassment, shock, or horror I may feel too.

  “Chase,” I manage to whisper his name because, out of the corner of my eye, I can see the waiter coming toward us with more plates.

  “You can’t pretend that you’re an ice princess when you burn like fire,” he says, his voice like a caress.

  Instead of letting go of me, he increases the pressure, his fingers moving quickly in and out of me.

  The waiter is about to reach our table, and I don’t know why, but it makes me even more aroused. I bring my hand to my mouth, biting lightly on my finger as my release buzzes through me just as the waiter serves us our dessert.

  Chase thanks the waiter, who glances at me, but all I can do is give him a small nod. When he’s gone, I gasp for breath.

  Chase pulls his hand back, dips the finger that was just inside me into the slice of cake in front of him, coating it with chocolate, and then slips it into his mout
h.

  A smile stretches across his lips. “Mmm. Everything tastes better with your flavor on it.”

  I’m mortified. I don’t know how I can enjoy any of this, but I do. The whole thing being wrong in so many different ways makes it all more interesting.

  I despise Chase for all of it, even if it’s not completely his fault.

  When our lunch is over, I don’t know what to think.

  “I’ll be back in a sec,” Chase says after he opens the car door for me.

  I get in and watch him go back to the restaurant, wondering if he forgot something.

  My gaze catches on the glove compartment, and I reach for it. To my surprise, it opens easily and I spot a phone, so I grab it.

  It has to be Chase’s. But why would it be in the glove compartment? I guess it has a password or some other type of protection, but when my finger touches the screen, it comes to life.

  No password.

  I glance up to make sure Chase is still inside, and then I search through the contacts and texts.

  Nothing. It’s empty. He’s deleted everything. It’s probably his emergency phone or something, which makes the whole thing even scarier.

  Why would he even need another phone? I wipe the phone on my skirt and quickly tuck it back where it was.

  Whenever I look at Chase, it’s hard to see a murderer. He doesn’t look like one. But if he killed Kayla, then he is one.

  I should never, ever forget that.

  I should never, ever be distracted by him in any way.

  But that’s easier said than done.

  When Chase returns, he’s holding two boxes.

  “Do you want one?” he asks. “It’s a sandwich. They’re awesome, even cold.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “More for me then.” He grins and places the boxes in the back seat.

  I turn my head toward the window, wishing that I could stop thinking about the way he touched me not too long ago.

  Chapter 14

  I GET A TEXT FROM CHASE just as I’m about to start working on my homework.

  I haven’t spoken to him or seen him since our lunch yesterday. He wants me to come to his room so we can study together, and I hesitate before replying.

  His room.

  I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to go back there. The last thing I need is to get triggered and freak out.

  And there’s also a chance studying means something else for Chase. What if I agree and it turns out he expects us to have sex?

  But there’s also another opportunity I have to consider. It’s daylight, and if I go to his room, I may be able to see more and find some evidence against him. I know it’s unlikely he still has something incriminating in his room.

  But he may have overlooked something, or he doesn’t care if someone finds something because he knows nothing will happen to him. It’s been a while since Kayla’s death, so I doubt he’d ever suspect I agreed to a study date in his room just to snoop around.

  My brain is telling me that agreeing is a terrible idea, especially because Chase’s room is a dangerous place, and I’ll be at his mercy again.

  But there are people in the hallway. If I scream, someone will hear me.

  I feel like my reasoning is stupid, but my fingers are already typing a reply.

  Okay.

  It’s such a small word, but it instantly makes me nervous. I grab some books and stuff them in my bag.

  If we’re not going to study, I can at least use one of the heavy books to hit Chase over the head.

  I take a deep breath before leaving my room. My insides are still jittery when I knock on Chase’s door.

  “Come in,” he says.

  My mouth goes dry as I push the door open. My lips part in surprise as I take in the room.

  Nothing. I feel nothing. And I know why.

  When I was in Chase’s room last time, it was pitch-dark. I couldn’t see much.

  But now, I can see everything. The bed with dark blue covers, the wooden desk, the chairs. It’s like a completely different room, and I hold onto that thought.

  It’s not the same place.

  It’s just not.

  I’ll be fine.

  Chase is lying on his side on the bed, a smile tilting his lips, a book in his hand. His notebooks and the rest of the books are strewn all over the bed, and some are on the floor too.

  “What?” He grins when I enter. “Did you expect something else?”

  “No.” I guess he saw my surprised face and thinks I’m disappointed he actually called me here to study and not to do something else.

  “Come here.” He sits up and pats the bed next to him.

  I settle next to him, placing my bag on the bed between us like a barrier.

  I may be more or less okay being in here with him alone, but I still need something to assure me that he won’t easily hurt me.

  Chase’s eyebrows lift up as he glances at my bag, but he doesn’t say anything. I pull out my books and we start working on our homework.

  Soon, I’m so immersed in work that I barely notice he’s gotten closer to me and my bag has been pushed back until his fingers brush my hand.

  A surge of electricity runs through me, and my gaze meets his.

  He’s looking at me with some emotion in his eyes that I can’t identify.

  “Um, I’m hungry.” I pull away from him, lowering my book.

  If I want to run, I can. I’d get to the door in time. That thought gives me comfort.

  “Me too,” he says. “I’ll go grab us something from the cafeteria. What do you say?”

  “Yeah, sure.” I nod.

  “A sandwich?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.” He goes for the door, and when he’s gone, I look around the room.

  This is what I’ve been waiting for. This is my chance to see if there’s anything Chase is hiding in here.

  I hop to my feet, inspecting every corner. It didn’t occur to me before, but now I’m worried Chase may have cameras in here.

  I can’t see any no matter how hard I look, so maybe there aren’t any. He wouldn’t want any evidence like that in his room, would he? Not to mention the footage could be stolen, and his privacy would be invaded too.

  I pad over to the closet. It’s easy to open it, and I go through the things in it as carefully as possible so Chase won’t figure it out. But there’s nothing interesting, just clothes, school stuff, and sports equipment.

  I open a few drawers, and a black shirt catches my attention because it’s sticking out at an odd angle. Every other piece of clothing is neatly folded, but this one isn’t.

  Why?

  I get hold of the shirt and tug it up as gently as possible. A pill container is under it, and my heart skips a beat.

  Vanessa said that everyone thinks Kayla overdosed. What if Chase gave her the pills?

  I study the container, but there are no labels on it. I pop the lid open. Round, white pills. I have no clue what they are, but I’m not familiar with drugs of any kind.

  I dash across the room to get my phone, and I take a few photos of the pills and the container. When I’m done, I return the pills and the shirt back to their place, hoping Chase won’t notice anything.

  Just as I’m about to close the drawer, I spot the edge of something. A piece of paper, maybe.

  I glance at the door, listening for a few moments for any signs that Chase may be coming back, and then I push at the shirt to reveal more of my latest discovery.

  It’s a photograph of a woman. I take a photo of it too. Footsteps echo in the hallway, coming closer, so I shove the photo back and return everything to its original state.

  I rush back to the bed, and my chest is still heaving when Chase opens the door. His hands are full of food, and he dumps it all on the bed.

  “Your sandwich,” he says, handing it to me.

  “Thanks.” I focus on the sandwich as I unwrap it, doing my best to calm my breathing.

&n
bsp; As we eat, I can’t stop thinking about the pills and the woman.

  Who is she? She seems young, with long dark brown hair and light-colored eyes, but the photo felt older under my fingers when I touched it.

  And the pills... If Chase used them to drug Kayla, then why does he still have them?

  Are they actually his? Maybe he needs them if he has a medical condition no one knows about, and Kayla took too much by accident or she thought they were something else.

  It feels like I’m trying to find excuses for Chase and possible explanations to prove his innocence rather than his guilt.

  But maybe Vanessa is wrong, and he is innocent. There’s no way for me to know at the moment.

  But if Chase has those pills for a legit reason, why don’t they have a label? It’s more likely they’re illegal, but it’s also possible Chase just doesn’t want anyone to know what for he’s using them.

  And here I am. Trying to find a reasonable excuse again, and I don’t even know why. But when I’m with him like this, he seems... nice, I guess.

  If someone told me everything that happened was a misunderstanding, without knowing any more details, I’d believe them.

  But I can’t lower my guard around him. He’s still Chase, and I don’t know all that much about him.

  When we’re done eating, we clean up a bit and make sure there aren’t any breadcrumbs on the bed covers or the floor.

  “We should play a game,” Chase says.

  “What game?”

  “Something fun.” His lips pull up into a smile, and he grabs a box from his closet.

  After opening the box, he spills playing cards that I’ve never seen before on the bed.

  “I don’t think I know this game,” I say.

  “It’s something I got from a friend. He made it. I’ll teach you the rules.”

  “Okay.” I eye him carefully as we settle on the bed, sitting cross-legged across from each other.

  Chase’s explanation leaves me more confused than anything else, but there are images on the cards. Images of half-naked people, and some symbols in the corner.

  I haven’t played card games much, but I think some of the cards have more value than the others.

  “Pick one of your cards and place it in the middle,” he says. “We need to do it at the same time.”