| Chapter 26 |
| predator and prey |
BREE stood in front of the bathroom mirror after her last lecture for the day was over, running her hand over her hair, letting her fingers slip into her tresses, losing her touch to the place that Nick's cheek had rested against, to the place his lips had brushed, to the place he'd breathed words of comfort into.
Blinking hard at her reflection, and with a single determined shake of her head, Bree reached for the tap and wrenched it open, the gesture rough and jerky. A contradiction to the calm, gentle persona she otherwise embodied.
Bree's eyes followed the steady flow of water as it streamed into her cupped palms, filling up to the very brim and then spilling over the sides of her thumbs. She jerked back her arms, mercilessly splashing her face with ice cold water. Whatever it took to kick-start her brain. To knock some common sense back into her.
What had she been thinking? She barely knew Nick!
Had she even been thinking in the first place?
It didn't matter that she seemed to be able to read him during the times that he chose to draw back from her and crawl back into his shell. It didn't matter that he made her shed off the cloak of oblivion, see past the surface of his exterior, and seek the tiniest details that made him Nick with hungry eyes. It didn't matter that there was something in Bree that seemed to form a natural bond with something in Nick, didn't matter that she had come to care about him in such a short period of time.
Bottom line was, she didn't know him. Not really. And it was pretty scary, if not insane, to feel so much concern for somebody who she knew so little of.
Fact was, Bree could probably count on her fingers what she knew about Nick Fraser. And to lean into his embrace so willingly, to speak to him about deep fears, to ask him what frightened him in return, to point out that she could see he was afraid of their growing closeness... was simply unacceptable.
She was smarter than this. More laid-back than this. She liked simple. She liked average. Bree Salvare didn't do deep soul searching, didn't do philosophies, didn't do over-thinking, didn't do complications or paradoxes.
But here she was, being challenged to do those very things by him.
He was like that, this Nick Fraser she'd acquainted herself with. He was bitter and guarded in the very places that he also was protective and tender.
Where Bree lived on the surface of everything, while at the same time more than aware of the ugliness that coexisted underneath... it appeared that "underneath" was the place where Nick saw life from. As if all he could do was glance up at the good that floated above, but not reach high enough to touch it.
And then a more disturbing revelation dawned on Bree: did Nick even see the good in the first place for him to be able to reach for it?
The door to the washroom flew open and a bunch of other girls rushed in, snapping Bree out of her thoughts -- out of the very first beyond-the-surface thinking she'd ever done.
Bree sighed inwardly as she turned off the tap and watched the stream of water grow thinner before disappearing altogether. Grabbing a couple of tissue papers and dabbing at her damp face with them, Bree walked past the girls and then tossed the tissues into the bin.
She stepped out of the girls' washroom, turned into the hallway next to it, and bumped right into a solid chest.
"Oh goodness," Bree breathed out in apology, "I'm so sorry--" she stopped short, her breathing coming to an abrupt halt when she felt the eerily familiar grip on her arm trying to steady her. Her head jerked up, startled eyes meeting a pair of cold blue ones.
"Haven't I told you to watch your step?" Chase asked in a bored tone. "You'll end up hurt with that lack of attention you pay to your surroundings."
Bree snatched back her arm from his hold, stepping away to put more distance between them.
"I can watch out for myself just fine," Bree told him curtly, swallowing past the lump of anxiety in her throat. She hoped to god he couldn't see the slight shake in her hands, but folded them across her stomach anyway, concealing her nervousness from his vision.
"Hmm," the noncommittal sound left Chase's closed mouth as he tilted his head to the side, a thoughtful expression taking over his face. "That's funny," he murmured, leaning to the side and bumping his shoulder against the wall, "didn't seem that way when you were all but burying yourself in Fraser's arms."
Bree's eyes widened, obviously not expecting Chase to have witnessed what had transpired between her and Nick earlier today. She tightened the fold of her arms against her torso, uncurling her fists and allowing her nails to dig into her forearms as a means to steady herself.
"So?" she shrugged, keeping her tone casual. "You're keeping a track of everyone I hang out with now?"
Chase smiled, cold and calculating. "Come on, Bree. I'm not a stalker." He put slight pressure on the word, as if being a stalker was somewhat beneath him -- as if he, Chase Faulkner, was so much more superior to that. As if he was better, somehow. "The two of you simply didn't pick the most discreet corner of this building to get all cosy with each other."
Bree pressed her lips tightly together, worry flashing through her but not for her. It was for Nick. She was worried for Nick.
"I don't know why you seem to be so hellbent on having me as another one of your conquests," she managed to say, squaring her shoulders a little and raising her chin up with a touch of defiance, "as some... some notch on your belt... but if that's what this is about -- if your problem is with me, then let it remain with me. You leave Nick out of this. Okay? Just leave him alone."
The laugh that erupted from Chase held equal parts amusement and disbelief. "So much concern for someone who said you didn't mean anything to him."
"What?" Bree frowned, a tiny crease forming between her eyebrows.
Chase pushed his shoulder off the wall as he began straightening himself up and then took a step closer to Bree.
"Yeah, I had a little chat with your buddy Nick during lunch hour," he shrugged. "H--"
"Chat about what?" Bree asked with a deepening frown, unable to help herself.
"Oh, you know, just us boys marking territories," he dragged one corner of his lips up into a smirk, "and he made it pretty clear you weren't anybody to him."
Bree didn't think much of it, not really. If Nick had said that to Chase -- if he really had -- it was probably because he'd wanted to avoid an altercation at any cost, which was the very thing that Bree had prevented this morning in Howard's class. She felt content knowing that Nick hadn't succumbed to Chase's antics in riling him up.
"Doesn't matter what he says I am or am not to him," Bree told Chase, "doesn't change the fact that you need to let him be."
"Typical Bree," he muttered, "setting herself on fire just to keep others warm."
"Well, it's always better to burn than walk around with an ice cold heart and no soul."
There was an unmistakable flash of anger in Chase's eyes and Bree involuntarily took a step back. "That's rich," he hissed in low tones, "coming from someone who cares for a lowlife delinquent."
It was like someone had yanked the rug from under Bree's feet, sending her crashing into the ground and knocking all the air out of her lungs. "What?" she asked, breathless.
"Oh, I heard that part of the conversation too," he told her casually, as if he wasn't filling her from head to toe with dread. "Our Fraser's got a taste for violence huh? So who was the guy he beat up?"
No, Bree pleaded with herself, no no no no.
"It's not my business to know," she said, her heart racing, "and not yours either." And then Bree took a step forward, pinning Chase down with her eyes. "And Nick's not some lowlife delinquent," she spat the words out, finding it hard to believe that Chase actually had the audacity to label Nick a lowlife.
Chase snorted, "Bree, he's got a police record. A criminal record. That guy has no future."
"Wait a minute..." Bree slowly raised her hand, her palm facing Chase. "You think--" she blinked hard, "--you think he's a lowlife because he got into trouble with the cops? For a one-time incident? You think -- you actually think that you're above him?" She laughed before she could help herself, the incredulity of Chase's logic truly astounding her. "Are you for real? Just because you haven't been charged with the shit that you do doesn't mean you're superior, Chase. Just because you haven't been caught doesn't mean you haven't done anything horrible. Because you have. You're a college sophomore, not a minor anymore. You do know that you Melody can take this to court, right?"
"But I didn't do anything, did I?" Chase arched a brow. "I didn't ask her to get involved in a relationship with me, didn't ask her to turn into a petty little bitch just because I slept with someone else while we were dating, didn't ask her to get drunk out of her mind and show up at my party, in my apartment. And I certainly as hell didn't rip her clothes off, push her into a room with Alec, and then force down my friend on her. I didn't even take those pictures. So what exactly is Mel going to accuse me of? Screwing another girl?" He scoffed. "This is college; no way in hell am I letting some chick tie me down already."
"You didn't just sleep with another girl, Chase!" Bree snapped, her patience hanging by a thin thread now. "You openly bragged about it while people knew you're supposed to be with Mel! And then you went as far as humiliating her in front of your friends when she called you out on it--"
"--and then the dramatic bitch poured soda all over me," Chase shot back, glowering down at Bree, "in the cafeteria. In front of everyone."
A heavy silence fell between the two of them, dragging on for minutes before Bree could even attempt to find her voice. "You... " she swallowed, trying to wrap her mind around what he was saying, "...you ruined her life... because.... because she poured soda over you?"
Chase only offered a nonchalant shrug in response. "She humiliated me and the favour was returned to her. An eye for an eye. Karma being a good ol' bitch, if you ask me."
Bree felt nauseous now. This was what it all boiled down to, then? That was all it took for someone like Chase to lash out and completely rip apart someone's hard-earned reputation like Melody's? Just one small incident that made him feel humiliated -- even when the incident was a grave that he had dug for himself by being a total jerk?
Her hands shook, but with so much anger this time. Fury. Rage. That craving to see Chase punished for what he'd done and the indifferent approach he was having towards the entire situation. No remorse, not a shred of guilt. Not even the tiniest sliver of shame. Bree wondered if he was sick in the head because by the way of his speech, it seemed as if he genuinely believed he was justified in getting back at Mel so ruthlessly.
"You stay the hell away from me," Bree told him in a hard voice, dropping her hands from her chest and curling her palms into fists as they hung by her sides. "I don't want to even look at your face ever again. I mean that, Chase. Stay miles and miles away."
She shot him one last look of absolute disgust and turned around, ready to walk away, when his fingers clutched around her forearm, stopping her and yanking her back roughly to him.
"What the hell are you doing?" Bree hissed, darting wide eyes around the place and locking eyes with another girl few feet away. The other girl seemed to freeze in her tracks, noticing Chase's grip on Bree's arm, but she hesitated and then turned around, choosing to turn a blind eye and simply walking away.
Bree's stomach dropped to her feet, fear and disappointment both crowding together in her gut. She struggled, but his nails only bit into her flesh, making her stop fighting and wince with pain instead.
She whipped her head towards the other side, trying to see if there was anybody wandering at that end of the corridor. But there wasn't. It was evening now and most students were done with their lectures -- only select few classes were conducted in the evenings and those ones had already commenced, leaving next to no one in the halls.
"Relax," Chase muttered, but Bree saw the small, sick smile that was perched on his lips. Like he enjoyed the fact that he awoke fear in her. As if he found some pleasure in the few seconds that her heart had frozen over and terror had choked her. "I get what I want one way or another, Bree. And if I want to walk free without the mishap with Melody hanging over me, then that's exactly what will happen." He put more pressure into his hold, giving one last squeeze and sending a sharp flare of pain up her arm.
And then he released Bree, leaving her out of breath and clutching at the patch of skin that was turning redder by the minute.
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thank you for reading! And remember, it gets worse before it begins to get better ;)