Chapter 3

Nikolai

The girl laughed for a second. "Hannah."

Hannah, that's it. I knew it was an H.

"What the fuck, Hannah? This motherfucker is stalking you. Why the hell don't you go to the police?" I wanted to punch myself for even asking because it gave the impression that I was getting involved in this fucking mess, which I had no intention of doing.

I felt sorry for this girl, which surprised me because I generally didn’t care about anything. There was something about her helplessness, her despair that was pulling at me to take care of it. I shook my head to dispel these uncharacteristic, and unwanted, thoughts.

Hannah sighed again—it was a recurring theme with her. "You do understand that his dad is the principal, right? I tried to go the principal about him at the end of last year, and all he did was tell me that I should give old Jeff a shot.” She swung her arm up, her hand in a fist, like the principal gave her a punch in the arm when he said it. Dickhead. “When I said I would go to the police if he didn't stop, Principal Connors said that they had a lot of friends and family on the police force, and it probably wouldn't be worth my time. Then he said it wouldn't look good to any prospective colleges if it came out that I was making false accusations about fellow students to the police,” she said as her face flushed with resentment.

The anger appeared to drain away as she tilted her head back against the wall in defeat. I thought she had looked glum earlier in her story, but now her face was a picture of misery and impotence. I was beginning to hate how it made me feel to see it on her face, a face I barely knew existed an hour ago.

"You have to tell someone, Hannah. What about your dad?" Of course, if it were my dad, Connors would be dead already.

Hannah shook her head. “My dad took off years ago. My mom works a waitressing job and barely makes enough to support me and my sister. She doesn't need this mess, but I do need to go to college, so I thought I could ride this out. This year, though," she swallowed hard and leveled me with dark blue eyes that looked hard and sad, reflecting her despair, "this year has gotten too hard.”

I felt my blood pressure spike dangerously high. This shit was starting to make me crazy. I didn't even know Hannah, and I didn't care about her, but I was starting to fucking hate every word coming out of her mouth. I knew I was an angry fuck who liked to fight, but I didn’t pick on people weaker than me. Looking at Hannah right now, I knew she wasn’t weak. She’d obviously been dealing with this for years; she was the definition of strength.

Her problem was power. She didn’t have any.

"There's more,” I stated. I knew there was. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," she whispered. "It's getting so much worse this year. This week, he grabbed me in the hallway just after the bell had rung. He’d never actually gotten physical before. He’s blocked my way, gotten into my space, followed me closely, but has never actually touched me."

She had a bewildered, faraway look on her face, as though she still couldn’t believe it had happened. I found myself gritting my teeth, my fists curling, eager to find Connors’ face.

"He blocked my way, sort of caged his arms around me, telling me all this insane stuff about his feelings for me.” She frowned. “I don’t know what was wrong with me, why I didn’t push him away, punch him, something.”

Hannah shook her head, clearly still disappointed with herself. I knew what she didn’t understand. That she’d been in shock at the time, that her space had been violated and she’d been paralyzed by it.

“The bell rang, and everyone went into class, so he pushed me against a wall and started kissing me. I couldn’t believe it.” She made intense eye contact with me when she said it, urging me to share her shock, her outrage. I didn’t need any prompting.

“When he started groping me, I finally pushed against him, and asked for help from a teacher who was closing her door. She looked at me, and then looked the other way. She did nothing." Tears were now shining in her eyes, making them luminous pools of violet as they reflected every bit of her disbelief, her shock at being ignored by people who were supposed to protect her.

My fists clenched with the need to punch something, someone. I felt like I had shards of glass in my throat as I asked, "What did he do?"

She looked up at the ceiling, apparently trying to get control of her emotions. She finally brought her gaze back to mine. "Nothing, thank God. I gave him a knee to the balls and ran as fast as I could."

Good, the fucker deserved it.

"Today is my first day back after it happened. While I was hiding out at home, I racked my brains about what I could do— how I could keep him away from me. You were the solution."

Now it was my turn to sigh. “Jesus Christ, what a fucking mess." I understood how she got to her conclusion. Everyone was afraid of me. If it wasn't what they'd heard about my father, it was my own well-publicized anger management issues. She started to wring her hands, obviously interpreting my comment as potential lack of cooperation.

"Look, I have about seven hundred dollars,” she blurted. “I could pay you for your time. All you have to do is pretend we're dating. Then Jeff will leave me alone, I can come to school without being afraid, graduate, and head off to college where you'll never have to see me again." Hannah explained her plan in a rush of words, as though the speed of her speech reflected the simplicity of her idea.

I jerked back. “Date you?” I figured she was going to ask me to kick his ass, which I would have been happy to do if I wasn’t already on thin ice with the principal due to all the fighting I had done in the past. One more fight, and I was out.

“Well, yes…” she murmured, seeming less confident now that she shared her plan with me.

“First of all, I don't want your fucking money.”

She flinched a bit at that.

“And what you're proposing is a little more involved than you're making it out to be,” I corrected sharply, and she had the grace to blush. “First problem, I don't date. Anyone. Even girls that are hot." I saw her wince at my blunt statement, but Jesus, she was a mess. "Look, I'm not trying to be a dick here, but no one would buy that I would date you."

Okay, I was kind of being a dick.

"What if I changed a little? Maybe got nicer clothes, wore make up, spent some time doing my hair, that kind of thing? Maybe you can tell everyone that after you saw me, you fell in love?" Hannah’s eyebrows rose as she ended her sentence on this optimistic note that had me cringing.

Fell in love? Fuck.

"Look, Hannah, everyone in this school knows I'm a hard-headed asshole. I fuck the girls in this school because they want me to fuck them. Then I move on. A lot of girls have wanted me to date them, but I have absolutely no interest. You would have to be exceptional for anyone to buy it, and quite frankly—"

"I get it, I get it! You don't have to keep repeating how unattractive I am." Hannah thrust her hands on her hips, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling in outrage behind those crooked glasses. I knew I just got done telling her how unappealing I found her, but she actually looked kind of cute, all worked up like that. I felt my dick start to take notice.

God, was I being reprogrammed? Was she brainwashing me?

"It won't work, Hannah. No one will buy it." Given the current action happening below my belt, I wasn’t sure if I actually believed that or if I was uncomfortable with just how much she was making me feel. Before this conversation, I would have run from anything that resembled a relationship, even a fake one.

But with Hannah, it felt different. Staring at her hopeful, desperate face, I understood her desire to be with me wasn’t about boosting her status at school or dating a bad boy—a term I loathed—or showing up other girls. This was about giving her a chance to live a life without looking over her shoulder and fearing that fucking creep, Connors, wasn’t lurking around the next corner.

After hearing me repeatedly refuse, Hannah looked at me and started to deflate like a balloon with a slow leak. "I don't know anyone else who would make Jeff too scared to try anything." She glanced out the little window on the door, as if expecting Connors to pop up at any minute. Real panic started to overtake her features, her lips tightening into a hard line.

Talk about a gut punch. What could I do? I definitely didn’t want a nerdy, fake girlfriend to deal with, but I also couldn't leave her to be attacked by some stalker asshole.

Fuck.

I blew out a huge breath as I leaned against the desk again. I felt like I'd aged ten years in the last thirty minutes. What a nightmare. "Okay, Hannah. We'll do this," I said in a resigned tone of voice. Her squeal nearly deafened me.

"But there are going to be rules,” I insisted. Hannah wasn’t listening—she was twirling in a circle, raising her arms in the air like she’d just won a race or a prize or something, jogging her legs up and down. God, she was such a dork, but I could understand her relief. After she was done with her victory dance, she collapsed against the desk next to mine.

"Sure, fine, whatever. I don't care what your rules are."

I believed her. She was sporting a huge grin that transformed her face. Again, I could see her potential attractiveness and it made me uneasy. She also looked so relieved that I felt a twinge of . . . something.

Jesus, what the fuck was she doing to me?

I was not a nice person, not at all. I just had to keep reminding myself of that.