Until You (Fall Away #1.5)(11)
Author: Penelope Douglas

The result: Madoc fell asleep during his afternoon classes, and I could make it through work with energy to spare.

“So how are we doing this?” He addressed his question to me as Sam and his friend, Gunnar, parked it at the table and began digging into their food.

Placing the cap back on my bottle of water and wiping the back of my hand across my lips, I peered up at him, not sure what conversation he’d started that I’d missed. “How are we doing what?”

“Tate,” he said as if I should’ve known. “Are we or are we not leaving her alone this year?”

I leaned back in my chair. “I do what I want. I’ll let you know if I need your help.”

“Shhh,” Madoc hissed. “There she is.” He jerked his chin towards the doors ahead, my gaze following.

She walked up to the line and got her tray, and I took inventory of everything. For my battle plan, of course.

Her body moved slowly, almost methodically. There was something about how rigid her back looked.

She wasn’t relaxed.

I hoped it was me. I hoped she felt me in here, watching her.

I liked watching her move, but I tensed up when I realized that every other guy in here was probably appreciating the same view.

It was a good view, and I couldn’t not look.

Her hair used to hang straight, but from the few times I’d seen her in the past week, she seemed to favor a wavier style now. The lights above made the strands sparkle down to their tips. Her long, thin shirt covered her ass on one side but had caught on the waist of her jeans on the other, leaving her behind visible in her tight jeans.

“Well,” Madoc piped up, “come up with better stuff this time. The date sabotaging is childish.”

What?

And then I realized he was continuing a discussion I didn’t remember starting.

“Get yourself paired up on a project with her or something,” he continued. “So much you could do with that kind of time together.”

Time together?

Oh, yeah. We were talking about the “Tate plan of attack.”

“This isn’t foreplay, Madoc.” I was setting Madoc straight just like Tate set K.C. straight. “I’m not looking to hook up with her.”

I watched her walk to a far table and sit down… with her back to me.

My lips turned up.

She didn’t want to risk making eye contact with me, and it was a victory.

Madoc started laughing, almost choking as he tried to swallow his food. “You’re right,” he coughed out, his eyes watering. “Anyone who sees the way you look at her knows you don’t want to hook up with her.” He shook his head. “No, right now you’re looking at her like you want to tie her up and give her a big, fat spanking.”

Stupid ass.

I wasn’t into shit like that, or…I didn’t think I was. Never tried it. Might try it, I guess. You should try everything at least once.

Except crystal meth.

“No?” he challenged, peering over at me when I didn’t answer. “Well, I guess this won’t make you jealous then.”

And he pushed his chair back, scraping the legs on the floor as he rounded the table and walked towards the other side of the lunchroom. Towards Tate.

Son of a bitch.

I was going to cut off his broken dick and feed it to Madman.

My short black sleeves stretched across my biceps, and I realized I’d tensed damn-near every muscle in my body.

I watched, fuming, as Madoc approached Tate and leaned into her ear, speaking. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, of course, but I saw Tate’s back straighten and knew she was uncomfortable.

Good.

But I didn’t feel good. I seemed to get high from pressing her buttons, but I never liked it when others took it upon themselves to follow my example. When Madoc had commented on her chest last year at the party—right before she broke his nose—I’d almost cut his balls off.

Helping me taunt her at times was one thing, but talking shit about her body—and in public—got my f**king temper up. Even I didn’t do that. If she hadn’t punched him, then I would’ve.

His hand glided down her back, and I balled my hand into a fist.

Goddammit! Didn’t we just have this talk?

Air poured in and out of my nose as I watched, unblinking, his hand fall intimately over her body and descend to her ass.

I shot out of my chair but immediately halted when Tate jerked out of her seat and grabbed Madoc by the shoulders, slamming him in the balls with her knee.

Holy shit!

I sucked in quick, short breaths, trying not to laugh at seeing my best friend fall to his knees, groaning like a wounded animal.

Tate circled him, and I sat down to watch her.

“Don’t touch me, and don’t talk to me,” she sneered. “Did you really think I would go out with you?”

He asked her out?

“I hear the girls talk,” she continued, “and contrary to popular belief, good things do not come in small packages.” Her voice was strong, like she was completely comfortable in her skin. Everyone caught the joke as she crooked her pinky finger to the amused crowd, insinuating that Madoc had a small dick.

“Thanks for the offer anyway, Madoc,” she said in a sweet sing-song voice.

Picking up her tray, she headed through the crowd, tossed away her lunch, and headed for the doors as every eye in the room followed her. Even mine.

I leaned back again, remembering how she’d cry or just leave every time Madoc or I did something. Now, it was ten year old Tate again, rocking my f**king world.

She stopped at the double doors, and I narrowed my eyes on her as she turned around, looking straight at me. Her eyes zoned in, killing the distance between us and bringing me dead in her face, so I could smell her skin.

She was everything. She knew my game, she matched me, and she was going to be a joy to take down. Then, and only then, would I have proven that I didn’t need her or anyone else.

Mr. Sweeney, one of the deans, came through the cafeteria, wanting to know what happened, and I stepped in and explained that Madoc had fallen over a chair. Stupid lie, I know, but teachers don’t have a lot of power. If one kid claims something and others back it up, it must be true. I didn’t want Tate in trouble.

Not from anyone else but me.

Before the first afternoon class started, I met Madoc at his locker, and grabbing him by his arm, I hauled him around the corner into an empty classroom.

“Whoa!” he howled, probably surprised by my sudden appearance. “Take it easy!”

As soon as we were away from prying eyes, I twisted around and planted my fist in his gut. The skin on my knuckles stretched, but Madoc caved to the punch, and I knew his pain would be a hell of a lot worse.

Coughing and hunching over, he fell back against the wall as I hovered over him. The strange part was, I wasn’t nervous or even angry. I was a little pissed, but otherwise, I was in complete command of my actions and emotions.

He knew why he got hit, and now he knew I wasn’t bluffing about not touching Tate.

“You heard me this time, right?” I asked.

And he nodded, pinching his eyebrows together and looking nauseous as he held his stomach.

Making my way to my next class, I picked my phone out of my pocket and texted my boss that I wouldn’t be at work this afternoon. He was a friend and let me off the hook on the rare occasion I needed a surprise day off.

The job was noise and distraction. Now I had Tate, and she was keeping my head pretty occupied lately.

I passed the rest of the afternoon in a euphoric hunger for what was to come.

Chapter 11

Madoc’s ego was severely bruised from getting hit twice in one day. We took off after school so he could nurse his wounds with a late lunch, or early dinner, at Sonic. Personally I think the chicks on roller skates cheered him up more than the food.

At about four-thirty, he drove home, and I headed back to school. Tate had cross-country practice this afternoon. I’d checked with Jess Cullen, the captain, earlier today, and Tate was supposed to be trying out for her place back on the cross-country team.

Walking up to the girl’s locker room door, I stood outside and waited. Slipping my hands into my pockets and leaning my head back against the wall, I enjoyed the calm before the storm.

God, I’d missed this.

My father crossed my mind briefly, but he almost seemed unimportant now. Like, why the hell had I given him so much of my attention in the first place?

When a girl walked out, hair wet and carrying a gym bag, I knew it was time. The ladies might still be cleaning up, but they should be done with their showers at least.

Not that they had anything I hadn’t seen before, some of them close up, but there was a fine line between a prank and getting myself arrested.

Walking through the door, I turned left and rounded the corner. There were several rows, just like the men’s locker room, so I stalked down the aisle, peering in every line of lockers and scanning for the sunshine blonde.

I heard hair driers going and talking coming from the back, so there weren’t too many girls left getting dressed.

But there were definitely some gasps and quick movements to cover themselves.

One girl jerked her shirt up to cover her bra but then lowered it again when she registered who I was. Her lips twisted up as she scanned me up and down. I did a double take, since she looked like she knew me. Like knew me knew me, but I couldn’t remember at the moment. The past year had been a jumble, and I’d rarely gone back for seconds with anyone. I could’ve tapped that. She was hot. I probably would have, but I wouldn’t be able to say if it was a month or a year ago.

Coming up on the next aisle, I halted, my stomach flip-flopping.

Tate was at her locker, nak*d except for a towel.

For a second, I thought I couldn’t have planned the timing better. And then I remembered that it couldn’t have been worse timing. My dick was like a goddamn compass pointing straight to her.

Hardening my eyes and narrowing my brow, I spoke up, ready to put her in her f**king place.

“Get out. Tatum stays,” I ordered the room.

Everyone squealed or sucked in a quick breath, and Tate’s head snapped up, eyes wide. She clutched her towel like I had the power to rip it off of her with my mind.

If only….

Everyone scurried away, and I was grateful that they cleared out without drama. Maybe they went outside or a few rows over to give us some privacy, but all I cared about was that they were gone, and Tate didn’t have a lifeline.

She was isolated.

“Are you kidding me?” she yelled, her face twisted up in beautiful anger as I approached her slowly.

“Tatum?” My body raged with heat shooting down my arms and legs. “I wanted to make sure I had your attention. Do I have it?”

She licked her lips, breathing through her teeth. Even her mouth, tensed up in frustration, looked full of fight.

“Say what you have to say. I’m nak*d here, and I’m about to scream. This is going too far, even for you!”

Never too far. There was no limit to how high I could fly from feeding off of her.

She’d stopped retreating, and I briefly wondered why. But instead of stopping myself, I couldn’t help but get a little closer.