The Dixon Rule (Campus Diaries, 2)

I didn’t come here to hurt you

JANUARY

I MISS SHANE SOMETHING FIERCE. I DIDN’T GET TO SPEND THE HOLIDAYS with him because I needed to be with Dad and Larissa’s family and then visited my mother in New York. I managed to squeeze in a four-day visit to Heartsong after New Year’s, but it wasn’t nearly long enough. Now I’m back in Meadow Hill and he’s three hours away, and it sucks.

The new semester starts tomorrow, and I’m spending my Sunday night on the couch, watching old footage of cheer routines from past nationals. The Briar squad sailed through regionals, so once school’s back, we need to kick it into a new gear to prep for nationals. I’ve been working with our coach, Nayesha, to fine-tune our routine. Nayesha and our choreographer handle the choreography itself, but they value my input, and the three of us are meeting tomorrow before practice.

Since my thermostat keeps shutting on and off for no reason—I definitely need to bring my dad in here, stat—I’ve got my heavy comforter curled up around my head, making me a human burrito. The muted glow of the TV casts shadows across Skip’s fish tank. I didn’t even notice it had gotten dark out, but now I realize that the world has grown eerily quiet. Niall is probably in an orgasmic cocoon of silent bliss right now.

When a wailing meow suddenly cuts through the silence, I jump so hard that my blanket burrito nearly rolls over the couch.

Fuckin’ Lucy. How did she get out again?

I don’t want to unravel myself, but I always have Priya’s back, even if it means dealing with her obstinate feline. I throw the blanket off and head for the entryway. When I hear footsteps beyond my door, I realize Priya is on top of this.

I’m already talking to her as I open my door. “Hey, I’ll help you grab—”

I freeze.

Percy’s standing in front of me.

Anxiety grips me like a vise, my breath catching in my throat.

“Diana,” he starts, but I’m springing to action.

I slam the door, but Percy’s equally quick. He wedges a black boot in before the door can latch.

“Just wait—”

“No,” I say angrily. “Go away. You’re not allowed to be here.”

Oh my God, how did he even get on the property?

“I’m not going anywhere,” Percy spits out. “We need to talk.”

Only a sliver of his enraged face is visible, distorted by the doorway as I keep trying to close the door on him. He pushes at it, and my pulse races. I push back, and the wood rattles loudly as we both battle for door domination.

“Stop it,” I order. I’m scared now. “You need to leave.”

“Not until we talk.”

He elbows the door again, the force causing it to shake on its hinges.

“No,” I repeat, while my heart thunders against my ribs. Why is he here? And why is he vibrating with rage? When I saw Wendt and my lawyer, they assured me the case was moving along smoothly. Percy’s first hearing is scheduled for this week, and Wendt said that when she spoke to him, he appeared resigned. Defeated, even.

Right now, he looks like a powder keg waiting for a spark.

“You need to go to the DA,” Percy is saying. “You need to get this fucking case dropped, Diana.”

“I couldn’t even if I tried. The DA chose to go forward—”

He gives the door a hard shove, winning the battle and sending me stumbling backward.

He’s in my apartment.

Pulse shrieking, I waste no time running to the living room. Maybe I’m overreacting, maybe he’s just here to talk, but the last time he tried to talk, he punched me in the face. Fool me fucking once.

I dart to the coffee table, hands trembling as I fumble for my phone.

“Diana!” He storms inside, seething. “Stop it.”

I snatch up the phone. The restraining order was my last defense, a fragile shield against the raging storm that is Percy, but tonight it’s insufficient. He broke it. He’s in my apartment, and I need him out.

“Put the phone away. You’re going to sit down and listen to what I have to say. Because I’m not leaving here until we come up with a solution.”

I ignore his desperate voice. My fingers frantically hit the number 9. Then 1.

“I’m calling the police, Percy, so you better get out of here before—”

The phone is batted out of my hand before I can hit the final 1. I cry out when it goes skidding across the living room.

Fear pummels into me. I look at his red face, then my discarded phone, and make a decision.

I burst forward, needing to get to the door.

Percy grabs me before I can make it past him. Pain jolts through my arm as it’s nearly yanked out of the socket.

“Stop it. I didn’t come here to hurt you. You’re being ridiculous.”

I don’t care what he says. I don’t feel safe. I can’t be here. And although the restraining order failed, I know something that won’t fail me.Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

Niall’s ears.

“NIALL!” I scream, stomping hard on the floor. “Call the police! Percy Forsythe is in my apartment and he’s—”

The first blow sends my head snapping to the side.

Pain jolts through my face. His knuckles got me right on the mouth, splitting my lip.

“You fucking bitch! This is all your fault! I only came here to talk, to sit down and discuss this like two reasonable adults, and you’re treating me like some kind of criminal! Fuck you, Diana!”

As blood pours out of my lip, I throw up my forearms, instinctively protecting my face again. But he uses the defensive posture against me and punches me in the stomach. The heavy blow stuns me, a whoosh of air leaving my body. I nearly fall over but regain my balance at the last second.

“I got expelled from Briar,” he fumes. “Did you know that? That’s what your stunt with the cops did! The dean found out about the assault charges against me and kicked me out of my program this morning. Called me into his office on a fucking Sunday to tell me I was out. You cost me my fellowship. My career!”

He tries to grab me again, but this time I successfully sidestep him. I unleash a left jab that grazes his cheek, eliciting a grunt of pain. I’m not trying to fight him, only to distract him so I can sprint out of the apartment.

I want to scream for Shane but he’s not here. He’s in Vermont. So I cry out for Niall again, for Priya, even for the damned cat, as I race toward the door.

I make it five feet before my ex-boyfriend grabs me by the ponytail, pulling me backward. He throws me on the floor. I land hard, the impact sending a streak of pain through my shoulder.

“You need to leave,” I beg, feeling the blood from my lip dripping down my neck. “You don’t want to do this, Percy. Please.”

But he’s lost to me. He’s in a frenzy. He kicks me when I’m down, and I instinctively curl into a ball. He’s undeterred. Tears flood my eyes when his boot stomps on my side. Agony blooms inside me.

“You ruined my life,” he hisses. “I never meant to hurt you that night. You know it was an accident. But you still took that one mistake and used it to ruin my life.”

When he kicks my shoulder, the heel of his boot grazes the side of my face, jolting my nose.

I whimper in pain. Blood now pours from my split lip and my nose. I don’t know if it’s broken, but it hurts like hell. A metallic taste burns my tongue as I try to crawl toward the door.

Percy stands over me, watching.

“You ruined my life,” he says again.

I know I should keep my mouth shut, but my body is on fire. Agony ripples in every muscle. In my face. In my side.

I meet his wild eyes and say, “Good.”

The last thing I remember is his foot kicking the side of my head.