Fear Me (Broken Love #1)(8)

by B.B. Reid

“What do you want?” I swallowed back the fear and ignored the dread settling in the pit of my stomach.

“You and I both know what it is that I want.” I shook my head in denial, though I was starting to have a clue. I had nothing else that he could possibly want but the look in his eyes was unmistakable.

He stepped closer and placed his forearms on either side of my head, resting them on the hood of his car.  My back was pressed against the door and I was caged in by his hard body and drowning in the cool smell of his body wash. His tall body blocked everything beyond him from my view so I could see nothing but his broad chest.

“I want the one thing that is keeping you so fucking innocent. I’ve wanted it for a long time, Monroe, and you are going to give it to me.”

“And if I refuse?” I looked up into his eyes that were almost black with lust. He didn’t really expect to…did he? His smile was sinister and completely without humor. My heart began hammering against my chest and my stomach twisted up in a tight ball of tension.

“Submit to me…or your aunt will disappear just like your parents did.”

* * *

He’d do it. I knew he would. I didn't know how, but I knew. A shiver ran through me as I entered the school in a daze. I thought of Keiran as a bully—nothing more, nothing less. But now I knew there was something far darker below the surface that had been waiting to come out.

And I was the dumb twit who released it.

He never actually said he would kill her. But what else could he mean? He would kill my aunt if I didn't give him what he wanted. I thought back to our conversation on the way to school.

“Why are you doing this?” I forced the question out. Did I really want to know?

“What would stop you from framing me again, this time putting me away for life? I hate you but you know that already and I don't trust you so I need to keep an eye on you.” I closed my eyes against the confession that he hated me. Yes, I did know but hearing him say it was more painful.

“You could just leave me alone,” I suggested.

He looked amused as he said, “That’s not going to happen. You have something I still want.”

I walked down the hallway in silence, unsure of what to do next. Keiran was out of my league and too big of an enemy for me to fight and win. I thought back to “her”. She was the one he’d killed. She was the reason I was afraid now. But who was she? Did she die because she fought back? These were the questions that have run rampant in my mind for ten years. It was the reason I lived willingly in the dark shadow of his hatred.

“Give me your phone.” I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sudden sound of his voice behind me. I was so lost in my thoughts that I completely forgot he was following behind me. Keiran wasn’t a person to easily forget but it was also fair to say that he had me out of sorts.

I dug my phone out and handed it over. When I looked up, I caught him staring down where my hand disappeared to in my back pocket. I cleared my throat but he took his time shifting his gaze from my ass when I held out my phone.

He finally looked up and stared at me unapologetic as he took my phone. His eyes were heated and I saw the blatant lust as I felt a flush spread over my body. Nothing about today was normal. Was it really possible to desire someone you hated?

“Why isn’t your phone locked with a security code?”

“Oh, I…don't have much activity through my phone,” I stated sheepishly.  I only had Willow and Aunt Carissa as constants in my life… there was no one else and he knew that.

He stared at me for a moment before looking back at my phone. He was taking his time so I got the impression that he was searching through it. What was he looking for? I heard a vibration after a few minutes then he pulled out his phone and silenced it.

“Why do you still have Peter Simpson’s contact information? Any contact or relationship,” he sneered, “you have with him ends today. Make this the last time I tell you.”

“I haven’t even spoken with him in a year since you–.” I stopped when I realized he was ignoring me and remained silent while he finished invading the privacy of my phone. There were a few other numbers in my phone from guys that I saved out of politeness but never used. It wasn't until after Keiran went away that any guy would show me any attention and even then only in complete secrecy.

Once word got around that Keiran was coming back, the offers stopped. I even had a few guys ask me to delete their number those last few days of school. I didn't understand why, but now I had the feeling it was because they were afraid of Keiran. But why would Keiran care about guys asking me out? He wouldn't care enough to do something that premeditated.

“What’s your first class?” he asked, handing my phone back.

“English IV with Mrs. Connors.”

“Let’s go. We’re late. He walked in the direction of the senior hallway.

“No shit, Sherlock,” I mumbled. He turned his head slightly as if he heard but turned back without saying a word. I breathed in relief that I escaped that slip-up unscathed.

I reached the classroom twenty minutes late much to the displeasure of the teacher. She shot me an annoyed look before motioning to take a seat. The other students seemed to be focused on me a little too hard and I wondered what had their attention.

I shrugged it off and sat down in the first empty seat at a table next to a guy who I think name was Josh. That’s when I realized Keiran was right behind me. I never considered that we might have the same class considering he missed his senior year.

So that was what had the other kids’ attention. Keiran and I had apparently entered the classroom together. I nervously looked around and could see a few of them speed texting while others continued to stare and I knew by the end of the period the whole school would know about what should have been an insignificant and ordinary piece of information not gossip. Only day one and there was already a rumor spread about me.


I was taking out my notebook when I felt Keiran’s hand grab the back of neck and lift me, none too discreetly or gentle, from the seat. He then grabbed my backpack and marched me to the back of the classroom where two empty seats were. The teacher, of course, was oblivious to his manhandling because her back was turned to the board.

The medium-sized tables were two-seaters and seemed intimate now that I knew it would be ours. I never imagined us ever sharing anything.