Page 33 of Hate That Blooms
“Can you just stop?” I hiss at Christian, trying hard to not cause a scene in the library. “You really need to stop.”
His hand grazes my knee from under the table, and I want to throw up. Christian is pushy, and from the moment we sat down at the table, he has been doing everything he can to touch me. I pull my phone out and send the “unknown” number a text.
Tu reina te necesita.
Not even a second later, he responds.
What’s wrong?
Un canalla de mi clase de biología me siguió a la biblioteca. Ahora no deja de tocarme. Ojalá estuvieras aquí para protegerme.
“Who are you talking to?” Christian glares at me, drawing my eyes up to his. The look in his eyes scares me, like he would hurt me if he got me alone.
“My sister’s care worker.” Dropping my eyes back to the text message.
Parece que quiere hacerme daño.
After no response, I realize I am in this alone. “Look, I have to go. My sister is having a rough day, so I’m going to be missing class. I’ll have to catch you later.” I shove my notebook and textbook in my bag and sling it over my shoulder. With a fake smile, I take off for the doors.
Walking quickly, I look over my shoulder, and he’s following me.Fuck!I turn and run down a row of bookcases, hoping I lose him in the library. I weave through the maze of bookcases, my heart pounding in my chest. I can hear the sound of my own breath as I try to stay quiet, praying that he won’t find me. Panic courses through my veins as I realize I am trapped in this confined space with him.
I spot an empty study room up ahead and make a beeline for it, hoping to hide out here until Christian gives up. Running through the open door, I let out a breath, thinking I’m safe.
“Caught ya!” He exclaims, grabbing me by my arm.
“Let me go!” I thrash in his grasp as he pushes me further into the dark study room.
“Come on, pretty girl, I promise I won’t make it hurt.” The sound of his zipper being dragged down has me beating against his chest. Christian lifts my shirt, exposing my bra, and pulls the cup down, palming at my bare breast. “Such perfect tits.”
The light flickers on, and before I have a chance to look around Christian’s towering body, a fist connects with the back of Christian’s head with a loud crack.
“Fuuuuuck!” Christian shouts, releasing me from his grip.
“No, but I’ll make it hurt.” Joaquín pulls Christian backward by the collar of his shirt, landing punches all over his body.
Christian stumbles and falls to the ground, groaning in pain. Joaquín stands over him, his fists clenched and his face filled with rage. “You think you can just touch her?” Joaquín growls, his voice dripping with anger. “Don’t you ever touch her again.” Joaquín straddles Christian’s body, grabbing him by the shirt and pummels his face. “Don’t talk to her—don’t even breathe in her direction, or I will fucking kill you.”
I take a moment to catch my breath, grateful for Joaquín’s intervention. Trembling, I step back, keeping a safe distance from Christian. Joaquín turns to me, concern etched on his face; he lets go of Christian’s shirt, letting him thud against the floor. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentle yet filled with urgency. “Did he…” Fear all over his face as he sees my shirt pulled up and my bra pulled down. I look down and adjust my bra, shoving my breast back in and pulling my shirt back down.
I shake my head, tears streaming down my face. “No, he didn’t. Thank you,” I manage to choke out. “Thank you for saving me.” He stands up and closes the distance between us.
Joaquín’s expression becomes softer, and he reaches out gently to wipe away my tears. “No one touches you but me.” I melt into the touch of his palms on either side of my face, wanting so badly for him to keep touching me like this.
“But, why did you save me?” I ask, searching his eyes for... anything—love, maybe tenderness.
“I guess I have a thing for saving the Ruiz’s girls from danger.” He shrugs, helping me step over Christian’s body that lies in a heap on the floor.
“What about him?” I point.
“Fuck thatputo,” Joaquín spits at him, and in a mumble that I don’t think he meant for me to hear. “Eso es lo que le pasa por joder a la reina.(That's what he gets for fucking with the queen.)”
That right there solidifies my suspicions that he is my stalker. I immediately feel safer knowing that it’s him.
Together, we walk out of the study room, leaving Christian battered and defeated on the floor. We make our way to the library exit, where Joaquín watches as I walk to the parking lot, and he waits until I get in my car. Before taking off, I text the unknown number.
A real king saved me. Not words on a screen.
I look up at Joaquín, hoping that he pulls his phone out to see that I sent the number a message. But he doesn’t. He stands there with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, waiting for me to take off.
