Disorder by J.L. Weil

Chapter Twelve

Tommy’s was a local food joint on the other side of town not far from where I used to live. Lots of kids from Public hung out there after school. They had the best hotdogs on the planet. It was also where Ainsley worked part-time after school, so meeting her here wasn’t a surprise.

From the Academy, it would take me twenty minutes to get to downtown Elmwood. By the time I sped out of the Academy parking lot, the Elite would realize I was gone.

I drove carefully across town, afraid to put so much as a fingerprint on Mads’s car. At this time of the day, the roads were light until I got closer to downtown Elmwood, close to where Tommy’s was. I found a parking spot with little difficulty and made sure to lock up as I got out. A car like this stuck out like an orange in a basket of bananas on this side of town.

Scanning the one-way parking slots, I didn’t see Ainsley’s car. My fingers flew over the keys, sending her a text. I’m here, where are you?

Her reply came a moment later. Around back.

I left my stuff in the car, grabbing just my phone and Mads’s keys. A gust of wind tainted with the scent of fried food brushed over me, tossing my hair off my shoulders. Dry leaves blew over the sidewalk, crunching and swirling at my feet as I made my way toward the employee entrance.

There was something so familiar and comforting being back in my old stomping ground. I knew every inch of old downtown. If you could look past some of the run-down buildings and debris littered on the ground, it had a charm about it that I found quaint and comforting.

Hooking a left at the corner of Tommy’s, I waved at the shopkeeper from the next building who was outside straightening her sale rack of vintage clothes. I wasn’t too far from Mads’s mom’s shop, just a few blocks.

The sun still provided plenty of sunlight, but shadows darkened the back of the alley. For a split second, a tingle of unease tapped over the nape of my neck but I brushed it off. It was the middle of the day, only a handful of steps from the main road, with people popping in and out of shops and restaurants.

How unsafe could it be?

This was my town.

And from what I’d learned living in the upper part of Elmwood, it was more dangerous there than it was here. My shoulders relaxed as I glanced past the dumpsters and folding chairs used for smoke breaks, looking for my friend.

“Ainsley?” I called, my voice echoing off the brick alley walls.

Footsteps clattered over the blacktop behind me, where I had entered the alley. I turned around expecting to see my friend’s rainbow hair shining in the sun.

Not Ainsley.

Ava.

And she wasn’t alone.

A string of F-bombs went off in my head.

She stepped into the alley, Izzy and Emily following. The three of them made a wall across the exit. The only exit. They were dressed in all black, the hoods on their sweatshirts pulled up. Even in the nefarious attire, they still looked like rich bitches, but I wasn’t stupid enough to mistake what this was. Or underestimate them.

My stomach dropped.

Despite the unease worming itself within me, I glared openly at the three of them, my gaze eventually settling on Izzy. She and I had unfinished business from when she had lured me into Carter’s trap. I still didn’t know why she had done it or what she gained from helping my stepbrother.

Or did she just hate me that much?

It didn’t matter, the reasons why.

Not now.

I shook my head, forcing my lips to curve in my best I-don’t-give-a-shit smirk. It wasn’t as snarky as I’d like. “How original. Mean girls gang up on the competition to deliver a painful warning. If pushing me down the stairs didn’t work, you think this will?” I had no intention of making this easy for them; nor did I understand how my voice remained steady, but I was damn proud of myself.

“This is just the beginning,” Emily sneered.

“The beginning of what?” They had me cornered, and unless I could make a run for it and get past the three of them, this wouldn’t end well.

Could I scream for help?

It was doubtful with all the noise from the kitchen equipment running and music filtering through a cracked back door that anyone would hear me.

Did I have time to call 911 or Brock? Someone?

Ava took a step closer, Izzy and Emily shadowing her every move. “You shouldn’t have come to the Academy,” Ava said, her warning clear.

“Things will only get worse from here,” Izzy added.

How much worse could it get? “All this because I slept with Brock. You guys have some serious territorial issues. You do realize you don’t own them. Any of them. I’d say that they own you. Do you have any idea how pathetic this makes you look?” I was literally rambling, anything to keep them from putting their hands on me. Maybe I could keep them talking long enough for me to use my phone before they beat the shit out of me.

My thumb swiped up on my phone as I gripped the side of it.

Ava shrugged as if my insults bounced right off her. “The Elite have their rules, and we have ours.”

“Let me guess, I broke your rules by fucking Brock.” I hit the number nine button on the phone. At least, I was pretty sure it was the right one. The stupid keyboard made a clicking noise, drawing Ava’s glare to my phone.

Fuck.

A sneer touched her lips as her hand shot out, smacking into the hand that clutched my phone. “This is your punishment.”

I groaned as my phone went tumbling to the ground, clattering over the blacktop.

Shit.

“I’m not a fucking child,” I hissed, adjusting the key in my hand. Thank god Mads’s house key dangled on the little ring, because the car fob was absolutely useless in a fight. But a key…

It wasn’t great. But it also wasn’t nothing.

“I warned you.” Ava held up a familiar-looking phone. It was Ainsley’s. I recognized the custom case splattered with photo booth pictures of Ainsley and me from last year at the Elmwood Festival.

I glanced from the phone to Ava’s smug face. “How did yo—?” My heart started to race as I put together pieces of the last few days. “You were at the party last weekend,” I concluded, remembering she hadn’t cheered that night. I hadn’t thought much of it.

A wicked grin graced her shiny lips. “She was too easy of a target. It was so pitiful. I’d never seen anyone so desperate to be noticed.”

“Bitch,” I hissed, my fists bunching at my sides.

“You think you can replace me?” Ava snarled, her eyes turning wild like a feral beast.

“Not think, I already have.” So not smart to antagonize the skank and her evil minions, seeing as I was outnumbered and it was clear I’d been set up, but when it came to Ava, I lacked caution.

I despised the girl.

She had done nothing but make my life hell since I’d come to the Academy.

Fuck it.

I shoved forward and braced myself for the torment that was about to follow, but I’d at least have the satisfaction of delivering the first hit. And I was going for the queen bitch herself. My fist thrust forward, Mads’s key tight in my grip as it slashed along the side of Ava’s check. Not quite the spot I’d aimed for but as long as it left a mark, I didn’t care.

Someone grabbed my hair, another my shirt, the material ripping. I was yanked backward while Ava cursed, a clutching the side of her face. “You bitch. This is going to hurt twice as much for that.” With an open palm, she slapped me across the face.

As someone who’s been slapped more than once, the sting that flared over my cheek was familiar, but damn, it still hurt every fucking time.

I blindly punched and smacked at the hands holding me, nails scratching. I kept fighting them. It didn’t do much good once the first kick blasted me in the gut, knocking the air out of my lungs. I hit the ground, gasping wildly. Before I could catch a breath, a shoe landed into my side.

Sweet Jesus.

Pain burst through me from the force of the hit. I clamped my mouth closed, swallowing the cry of agony. I kicked out at them, over and over again.

“She’s insane.”

“Ouch. Dammit.”

“Hold her down.”

A hand latched onto my leg, another stepped on my ankle. Instinctually, I turned onto my side and lifted my arms to cover my head as I tried to curl myself into a tiny ball. I grunted as I took another hit in my lower abdomen, then one to the hip. The torture seemed to go on infinitely. Logically it had probably only been a minute or two, but they were the longest minutes of my life.

No tears. No pleas. No cries. I refused to make a sound.

Blood dripped along the side of my head, and one of my eyes was swollen shut. I tried to fight them off. I definitely didn’t make it easy for them.

“Hey!” someone yelled. “Get off her!”

Had I imagined a male voice? Please, God. The beating stopped, and a shudder of relief went through me.

“The fun’s over,” Ava hissed. “For now.”

“We’re not done with you yet, James.”

“Let’s fucking go.”

Footsteps scrambled, pounding away. “Stop!” someone yelled. Seconds later, a shadow moved above me.

“Oh, dear God,” someone else choked out, an elderly woman.

“Call 911,” the deep voice ordered.

Whoever this person was, they just became my hero.

If this guy hadn’t stumbled upon me, how much further would Ava have gone?

He crouched down, careful not to touch me. “Don’t move.”

I don’t think I could even if I tried. Through my good eye, I stared up at his face, but his features were blurry, my vision hampered from the swelling that was only getting worse. I wanted to thank him, but making my lips form words proved to be too damn painful.

“Just hang on,” the guy reassured over and over. His voice was deep and solid, which I found soothing. Strong but gentle fingers wrapped around my hand. “I’ve got you.”

Closing my eyes, I gritted my teeth against the throbbing pain and turned my thoughts to the long, long list of ways I’d make Ava regret what she’d done. I didn’t even want to think what the Elite would do when they found out.

Lose their shit.

Kill Ava and her bandit of whores.

Not that they didn’t deserve it, because right now, I was feeling all sorts of vengeance.

He stayed with and I was so grateful. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” the guy said, regret heavy in his tone.

I drew in a quivering breath, the air like shards of glass and fire in my lungs. Sirens blared in the distance. It grew harder to breathe, but I forced myself to take it slow and steady. I didn’t attempt to move but just lay on the ground, bleeding and clutching this stranger’s hand.

Getting the ever-loving crap beat out of you was an experience words failed to describe. I could taste blood.

The next few minutes after the first responders arrived and then the ambulance were a whirlwind of questions, needles, and finally meds. I was most eager for them to kick in and take the edge off the agonizing suffering of my body.

“Thank you,” I managed to whisper to the guy who helped me, finally letting go of his hand as I was wheeled into the ambulance.

He smiled. “No more alleys, okay?”