I nod and grimly say, “Thanks.”
Scarlett steps out of the room and the door closes with a quiet click.
Daph leans against the wall, her fingers threaded together and tucked up under her chin. She’s pale as a ghost.
At first, I don’t say anything because I don’t know what to say to make this better for her. If I could take this all away, I would. Rewind. Stop all of it before my girl got hurt in this way.
But I can’t. It’s already affected her. And whether this is the work of Carter, Shayne, Alora, or someone else, it doesn’t matter.
Whoever is responsible is officially on my ever-growing shit list.
And one way or another, I will find a way to take them down. All of them. Every last person who’s hurt her.
My anger rising, I force myself to think of Daphne first. Slowly, I cross the room, stop in front of her, and tuck a knuckle under her chin. I stare into her eyes and see a whole galaxy of hurt residing there. My jaw twitches. If I find out which bastard made her eyes go dull like this, I will smash his or her face in. I’m beyond caring.
“I’m so sorry, Daph.” I reach out and pull her against my chest, resting one hand on the back of her head. I let the other hand sweep up and down over her back. My voice still thick with anger, I murmur, “I feel like all I’m doing lately is apologizing to you, and I hate it.”
Her chest jerks as she tries to breathe normally. She pats her hand on my stomach. “You didn’t do this, Micah.”
I grip her head between my hands, forcing her to look up at me. “Baby, I will find out who did.” Her lashes flutter as she closes her eyes. I kiss each one, then her cheeks, followed by her soft, pink lips. “You don’t deserve that.”
She opens her eyes again and softly says, “I know. It’s just hard.” She grips each of my wrists with her hands, tugging them down where she can see them. “Micah,” she breathes out. “Did this just happen? What did you do?”
I groan, flexing my fingers. My fucking knuckles are bruised, badly. “I punched your locker a few times.”
She rolls her eyes. “And exactly what did that do to help the situation?”
“It made me feel better. And I didn’t punch some random asshole who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Daphne exhales heavily as she nods in understanding. She peers up at me as she asks, “You know what makes me feel better?”
“What?”
“It’s actually not a what. It’s a who.” She smiles tremulously, grasping the lapels of my blazer and swaying toward me. “It’s you.”
I’m overcome by her admission. My mouth brushes softly over hers, and the taste of her sweet lips ignites something in my soul. I crave her closeness. Everything she does, everything she is, makes me want her more and more.
Gently, she pushes against my chest with her hands. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“Daph …” I let out a strangled groan. “Why do we have to go anywhere? You don’t need to walk through the hallways right now. They’re full of assholes.”
“One, you have class, and I’m supposed to be down in the library. Two, they’re only curious. It was a pretty crazy spectacle this morning.” She pats my chest. “And that’s what people do. They watch the train wreck.”
“You’re not a train wreck, Daphne.”
“My life sure feels like it lately.” She shrugs. “Come on. You need ice. Then you’ve got Computer Information Systems this period, right?”
“Yeah.” Reluctantly giving in, I let her lead me from the room. With one glance across the hall at the locker, my temper flares again. “Fuck. I’m going to end up killing someone today, I know it.” The guys managed to remove most of the lettering, but until it gets painted, her locker will still look horrendous. I shake my head. “I don’t know how the fuck you’re handling this so well.”
She presses her lips together. “Micah, I’m not. You saw me in the classroom just now. But I know I have you on my side and that helps.”
On our way down the crowded hallway, I look into each person’s eyes, looking for some hint about who is responsible for messing with her locker or who might know something. Because I will get to the bottom of it.
I want so badly to tug Daphne closer to me, but it’s for the best that I don’t. Fucking Alora and her fucking video blackmail are going to drive me crazy. I don’t know how much longer I can handle hiding what I feel for Daphne.
During first period, as we’re all tapping away on our keyboards, the intercom squeals and clicks before the secretary’s voice drifts into the room “Mr. Killiam? We need to see Micah Robertson in the office, please.”
Beau nudges me. “What do you suppose that’s all about?”