Chapter Four

Three weeks without a friend. I have had to go through three weeks at school without a friend or someone to go to when the bullying gets bad, when the words slowly get to me.

I thought I would be used to it by now, but I'm not. I have had her by my side for as long as I can remember and now I don't know how to work without her. I need her. I need Erin. It doesn't help that Tom is also angry with me, thinking that in some way I have 'betrayed' him. He has told me not to bother coming to any of his matches anymore and that he will find a new trainer as I am "probably too busy with my new boyfriend". I roll my eyes as I remember the words that he spat at me, accusatory and hateful.

Their mum still pops around to make sure that I'm doing okay, but it's not the same.

I have tried to call Erin and ask for her to forgive me, but every time I try, she sends me to voicemail. I have left her a few messages, but I know that they have fallen on deaf ears. I know that I have hurt her in some way, but for the life of me I can't figure out what I truly did wrong. I thought she would be glad that I brought Kayden and Seth to our room, considering she has the largest crush on Seth. I know she thinks that I took Kayden's side in the argument, but in actuality, I was in shock at what happened, I have never had Tom treat me like that before; hell, I have never seen him that angry before!

I can't stop myself from remembering the feeling of Kayden's hands on my chin as he stared into my eyes, the way that his touch sent shocks throughout my body; the way his eyes demanded my every nerve to be attached to his. I blush as I remember cleaning his chest of blood, touching his muscular body freely.

My school life is hell, just like it used to be. Yeah, I love learning, I am a nerd after all, but I hate the jokes and the bullying and the God damn loneliness. Sitting in a dirty corner of the lunch hall on the floor, or even sometimes in the bathroom, is not my idea of a great way to spend my lunch break. I could handle it a lot better if I didn't have other students constantly kicking me on their way to the door, or throwing their rubbish at me, laughing and joking that they thought I was the rubbish pile. Not the greatest fun I have had in a while.

Sometimes I'll catch Erin's eyes and for a second she looks like she's going to come over and help, but then something seems to switch in her head and she'll glare at me or laugh with who ever made a joke about me being a mess and a freak.

Kayden has been keeping an eye on me, but not directly. It's not like he has physically been stalking me like a psycho, no, he has had every member of his little gang following me, whether it be in my lessons or even following me home. Sometimes they make it obvious that they are following me, literally walking like two feet away from me on the way home, and other days I won't be able to see the person, but I can feel their gaze following me; those days, I know that it is Kayden, the familiar feeling of his eyes burning into me always makes me blush and every cell in body come alive.

I've been trying to think of reasons as to why he would be doing this, but honestly? I have no idea. It makes no sense at all. I've been constantly replaying the events that happened in the fight club three weeks ago, but none of that makes any sense to me either. Kayden would have no reason to have an interest in me, I mean, no one ever sees him with girls, even though his sexual reputation follows him everywhere, he never has a girl by his side when he's out in public, especially at the ring. So what does he gain from following me around? And why did it feel like he was going to kiss me? My cheeks instantly go crimson at the thought of Kayden kissing me, pinning me against the cabinet in the club, and unlike what I thought, it is not an unwelcome thought.

The final bell rings, pulling me out of my thoughts, making me blush harder, wondering if anyone can see the deep red on my cheeks and know what I was thinking about. I slowly get up from my seat at the front of the class, waiting for everyone else to leave before I do, no wanting to be shoved on the way out or have my bag stolen off my shoulder like yesterday.

As soon as I step out the school doors I feel his eyes on me before I actually see him. He is stood by his bike, a sleek black Harley Davidson Street 750, his helmet resting on the seat and his leather jacket hanging from on of the handles, leaving him in just a white T-shirt and black jeans, as well as black Doc. Martins to finish the look off. I pull my gaze back up his body and see that he is smirking, obviously catching me staring at him and I quickly duck my head down, rushing down the school steps and out of the parking lot, not looking back to see if he is following because I know that he will. Soon enough, I hear the roar of his motorbike starting down the street after me. However, it doesn't stop like I expect it to, he just keeps going down the street until he is out of sight and earshot.

I let out a loud sigh, not even realising that I was holding my breath until my lungs begin to burn with lack of air. I am relieved that he isn't following me home, but at the same time, a small tang of disappointment rushes through my body, but I quickly push it away before I can dwell on it any further. 'You don't want him to follow you home!' My subconscious shouts at me, reminding me that he is indeed dangerous and I shouldn't be pining for his attention.

I carry on walking back to my house with a little more bravery, knowing that no one is following me and if they are, I have half a mind to tell them that they are breaking the law by following and stalking me home, that is called harassment! 'I don't think they care about following the law, Drew' I'm reminded. Of course, how could I forget.

My bravery diminishes the second that I reach my house. I haven't looked up from my feet for awhile, caught up in my thoughts, but when I do, I am stuck paralysed at the end of my drive, where a sleek black Harley Davidson sits, as if it owns that drive that it has been carefully sat upon.

"Are you going to invite me in, or are we going to stand outside all afternoon?" his voices pierces through my ears, his tone annoyed, but I can hear the underlying tones of humour as I stare dumbfounded at his bike. I slowly peel my gaze away from the contraption and I'm met with blazing blue eyes that twinkle a little when I look into them. I can't hold their gaze for too long as my nerves get the better of me, making me look down at my hands knotted together at the base of my stomach, keeping themselves busy by twiddling with each other.

"Drew, it's rude to leave a guest standing outside," his tone is almost scolding, which makes me frown, I haven't been told off in a very long time, I mean, I have been the man of the house, so to speak, so I have had no one to tell me off, and the feeling of guilt is unfamiliar to me.

I debate about whether or not I should tell him to leave me alone, or to actually let him into the house and see what he wants, and I can't help but go with the latter, not wanting to anger a guy who could hurt me without even having to try. I would definitely put up a fight, but, of course, he doesn't know that.

Quickly, before Kayden scolds me again, I reach into my bag and pull out my keys. Hurrying past Kayden, my hands begin to shake as they try to put the key into the hole in the door. His close proximity is making my every limb shaky and limp. His smell wraps around me like a warm, fuzzy blanket, a strong scent of cologne and motor oil, its a heady concoction.

Suddenly a warm hand encases mine, stilling my shakes and helping me put the key into the door. I gasp as the electricity is back again, lighting a fire throughout my body, making me shiver and goosebumbps to rise up on my arms. The heat that radiates off of his chest, which is closely pressed against my back, makes me shy away from the cold wind that sweeps lowly up the drive, snaking its way up to us, but Kayden moves so that it doesn't hit me for long, shielding me with his body.

"Let's go in shall we? It seems to be getting a little cold out here," his voice is low, vibrating through me and sending another shiver down my spine as his breath tickles the hairs at my ear. Without waiting for my answer, he slowly opens the door and guides me in as if it was his own house. He closes the door quietly behind him before turning back to me, his eyes still holding the same intensity that they did three weeks ago.

"Wou-would you li-like some t-tea?" I cringe as I stutter, hoping that my voice would come out a little stronger considering that I am in my home. This boy has the ability to make even my house seem foreign to me.

"I'm okay thank you, Drew, but please go ahead and make yourself some," he waves his hand over in the direction of the kitchen, and I frown.

"You have a way of making me feel like an alien in my own house," I mutter quietly as I turn around towards the kitchen, the frown still fully in place on my face as I get everything out ready for a nice, hot cup of tea. The only thing that can help me through what I'm sure is going to be a stressful evening.

"I didn't realise that's what I was doing," his voice follows me into the kitchen, making me grab the countertop in surprise. I turn my head to the side a little, seeing him leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen, looking relaxed but his brow is creased in thought.

"Why are you here?" my whispered question breaks him out of his thoughts, and his eyes meet mine, his alight with a dangerously hungry gaze. However, hungry for what I do not know.

"I'd like to learn more about you Drew," my eyes widen at his confession. Why would he want to learn more about me? I turn my gaze back down to the mug of tea that I am brewing, moving shakily to grab the milk from the fridge, not lifting my eyes to meet Kayden's, but I can feel his following my every move.

"I don't think you'd find me very interesting," I mutter more to my cup of tea than I do to him. I wonder if he even heard me?

"I think I'd like to find that out for myself," his voice is tight, strained almost. I suppose he's not used to girls not throwing themselves at him, willingly giving him every little detail about their lives. Does he think I'll be like all the girls that I am sure he has been with? The thought makes me frown in annoyance. Maybe he's only here because he didn't realise that there was a girl left in the school that he hasn't had sex with?

I tap my spoon on the edge of my mug rather harshly, the sound ringing in my ears, making me cringe a little. I throw the spoon carelessly into the sink, before turning around, my cup of tea nestled in between my fingers, and I lift my gaze up to Kayden, noticing that he has taken his leather jacket off again, slinging it onto the back of the chair next to him. His hair tousled a little, probably from taking his helmet off when he got here. His eyes brighten with determination, looking at me like I would at a piece of homework, determined to work every puzzle and problem out with efficiency.

"Why do you want to know me?" I can't hide my confusion, but I try to hide my blush in my mug of tea, his eyes making the blood warm in my cheeks. I don't think they have ever been this red before in my life.

"You intrigue me," he cocks his head to the side, regarding me passively, but he raises an eyebrow in a way that says I-demand-that-you-tell-me-everything-I-want-to-know. "Where are your parents?" Oh, we're starting off with the overbearingly personal questions are we? I look down at my mug of tea, hoping that if I stay quiet for long enough, he will move onto another question, like my favourite colour so something simple like that.

"I asked you a question, Drew," his voice has deepened an octave or too, threateningly. I don't dare look up at him, knowing that he will hold an angry glare, but my mouth begins to move, words spilling out before I am able to stop them.

"They left when I was six and I haven't seen them since. I have no idea where they are," my voice barely goes over a whisper, but I'm sure that he heard me. I steal a glance at him through my lashes and see him running a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, which are clouded over with thought.

"You said you moved in with your Aunt and Uncle when you were six," its not a question, but I understand his meaning.

"When I turned sixteen, they moved to New Zealand so that Aunt Emma could run her own hospital over there, I didn't want to go with them so my parents bought this house for me, they send me money every month; that's the only way that I know they are still alive," I mumble, absent minded, not really understanding why I am spilling my life story to the most fearful person I know. His brow creases further at my words.

"So they don't call you or check up on you?" I shake my head to his question, taking a sip of my tea to try and calm my nerves.

"Do you have any other family in the area?" I shake my head again, my throat going dry at the exasperation on his face as he runs his hand through his hair again.

"So you've been alone in this house for, what, two years?"

"Two years and a half," I correct him, taking another sip of tea.

"How long have you known Tom Clarke?" I glance at him again and I can see the anger return to his eyes as he mentions Tom's name.

"I'm not sure, I've known Erin since I started school when I was ten, so I guess I've kind of known him for around eight years?" I can't believe I have only known Erin for eight years, it feel like I have known her a life time.

"How long have you been training Tom?" his question makes me gasp in surprise and I almost drop my mug. How did he find out that I train Tom? Only Erin and Tom know that.

"Ho-how di-did you kn-know tha-that?" my question comes out in a gargle of stuttered words, my entire body in shock at him knowing something so private about my life. Does he know about my fighting days too?

"Seth told me. He informed me that according to you my technique is sloppy and I am very predictable," again, he raises an eyebrow in challenge, but I can see humour dance around in his hypnotic blue eyes. My nerves return full force, making my mug shake. I place it down on the countertop carefully, worried that if I hold it any longer then I will surely drop it onto the tiled floor of my kitchen.

"I... yo-you thin-think about yo-your moves to-too much," my mouth is dry and fear creeps its way through my body as I worry that maybe that is the real reason why he is here, that he is angry at my assessment of him and he is here to hurt me for thinking such things about him.

"I haven't had any problems with my technique so far, my reign in the ring is yet to end," he boasts and I want to roll my eyes at his arrogance, but I don't want to anger him any further.

"You don't have a technique, you're all about force and not about strategy, you use your height and weight to your advantage against your opponents more than you do your brain," I clasp my hand over my mouth the second the words come out. I can't believe I just judged Kayden West on his fighting; and by the looks of it, he is just as shocked as I am, his mouth hanging open a little, his eyes wide, surprise and anger all swimming around behind his eyes.

"I'm sorry!" I exclaim quickly, hoping to douse the anger that is beginning to win over his expression.

"No, no, it's fine," he closes his eyes, clearly trying to calm his anger. I guess he has never be given criticism on his fighting before. I continue to stare at him, watching his jaw clench and unclench, making him look dangerously close to loosing his temper. I grab my mug off of the side, and begin to sip it again, trying to concentrate on anything other than the bristling man sat at my kitchen island.

"How long have you been fighting?" his sudden question brings my attention back to him and I blank. There's no way that he knows about my fighting career, no one knows about that except for Erin and Tom, and it was an accident that even they found out!

"I-I-"

"Cut the bullshit, Drew. There is no way a girl like you would be able to know those things without having some fighting experience," he snaps before I am able to form my sentence, the anger still clear on his face, his jaw clenching tighter as he seemingly tries to hold his anger in.

"My Uncle taught me how to box," I answer quietly, my eyes still staring into Kayden's, paralysed by the commanding tone of them, demanding that I do not look away from them, and I don't, I cant.

"Fucking bullshit," he snaps through clenched teeth, standing up from his stool abruptly, stalking over to my cowering self, pinning me against the counter with his hands on either side of me.

"Why do you think you can stand here and lie to me? You think I wouldn't know if you were lying or not?" I shake my head quickly, answering his question mutely, not being able to reply to him. I can feel the tears threatening to fall, but I blink them back, not wanting to show how weak I am to this terrifying boy in front of me, and it is at this moment that I remember how dangerous he can be.

Without me being able to stop it, a tear falls down my cheek, but I can't move my hands to wipe it away, both from being trapped by Kayden and from being paralyzed by fear. Kayden's eyes follow the tear as it falls down my cheek, his face faltering at the sight of it. He glances back up at me quickly, his eyes alight with shock. He pushes away from me suddenly, allowing me to get much needed air into my lungs as he runs his hands through his hair, tugging on it a little as he turns away from me.

He glances at me a couple of times, almost seeming like he wants to say something, but he stops himself. With a deep breath, he snatches his jacket off of the chair and begins to shrug it on.

"This isn't over," he says simply before storming out of the kitchen and slams the front door, making me jump and another tear to roll down my cheek.