Every Broken Thing: Far From Ruined Book 1

Chapter 2

The sickening whack of my fist meeting his jaw and the following pain crackling its way up my arm was immensely satisfying and almost enough to distract me from the heaving of my stomach brought on by his touch. The momentum of my hit sent Ben staggering back a few steps, but he righted himself quickly. He fondled his jaw, and his fingers came away bloody. Guilt swirled through my gut as he gawked at me.

"Don't fucking touch me," I choked, my panic lapping at my neck as it threatened to drag me under.

I was going to lose my shit in three, two, one...

I bolted from the bathroom and fled the school like the building was on fire, the slap of my sneakers and my strangled gasps filling my ears. Relief crashed over me at the sight of my truck stranded on the side of the parking lot, and I tugged my keys from my pocket and searched for the right one to unlock the door. My fingers shook, and I dropped my key ring twice before I could identify the correct key. Not that it mattered; the slot in the door proved unconquerable in my terrified state, and I couldn't unlock the door.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I gripped my head and tried to banish the memory of his erection grinding on my ass as he moaned in my ear. The ghost of his hands on my body, slipping into my jeans sickened me, and I abandoned my truck and rushed to the nearest patch of shrubbery, where I proceeded to empty the contents of my stomach viciously into the dirt. I heaved until nothing but burning bile dribbled past my lips. When there was nothing left to purge, I gathered the bitter saliva in my mouth and spat to rid myself of the vile taste.

The air around me shifted, wafting spring soap in my direction, and I stiffened before rolling my eyes. Of course, it was him. Why not? Were there any more embarrassing things he could play witness to today?

A red cloth appeared in my line of vision, and, though I loathed accepting anything else from him, I snagged the damp cloth drenched in chlorine and wiped my mouth clear of any remaining vomit. He replaced the fabric with a bottle of room-temperature water, and I swished the liquid around my mouth before spitting into the bushes again. After cleansing my tongue as best I could, I handed the bottle back to Ben's waiting hands and cringed away from the sadness pinching his eyes.

I didn't want his pity.

Managing a few steps, I tripped backward and landed on my ass as my back met the body of my truck, and instead of climbing back to my feet, I decided to take a moment here on the ground to collect myself. I curled into a ball, my knees meeting my chest, and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes until my vision turned red.

Shoes scraped against pavement, and Ben released a soft sigh as he hunkered down on the ground beside me, leaving a few feet of space between us, for which I was grateful. I expected him to speak, but he remained silent. He didn't say a word, and neither did I. Together we sat, quiet and still as the grave.

We sat in silence for ages, and his presence both comforted and annoyed me, worsening my mood the longer he remained beside me. I wanted him to leave, yet the prospect of being alone frightened me, which pissed me off more. I was always alone, and I didn't need some Abercrombie and Fitch model to watch over me so he could brag about his Good Samaritan act of the day to his friends later. Oh, how they would laugh, talking about the poor faggot who couldn't even protect himself from some rapist psycho!

After far too long, I left the safety of my hands to inspect the boy beside me, and I startled at finding him staring right at me. Our eyes met, and something unsaid passed between us before I jerked my gaze away, unsettled and confused.

"Has this happened before?" he asked, breaking the stillness, and my defensive sarcasm kicked in along with my temper.

"Why? Wanna join in next time?" I snapped, sending him a scathing glare from the corner of my eye. "My schedule is pretty packed this weekend, but I can probably fit you in Monday. Talk to my secretary, Mrs. Kiss My Gay Ass, and she'll set you up with an appointment."