Page 30 of Redeeming the Villain
Cute Guy turns and walks the other way, disappearing back into the crowd, leaving me alone with Malik.
Twirling in his grasp, I look up at him and shove his chest with both of my hands, putting some much-needed distance between us.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I shove him again, and he backs up a step with my force. “Really, Malik? Grow the hell up!”
Something ignites behind his eyes, his lips tipping up into a smirk, and I don’t know if I should keep fighting or turn and run.
He laughs, soullessly and cold. “Oh, I need to grow up?Really? Because it seems like you’re the one imagining that you could ever be close with my friends. That you could have a place at our table. You’re ajoke.”
My eyes burn, welling with tears, no matter how hard I try to fight them back.
A lump forms in the back of my throat, and everything inside of me wants to run and hide. But there’s something else there—a rage that is desperate for release.
Malik continues to taunt me, leaning down so his face is mere inches from mine, his next words clear as day. “When are you going to learn, Alora? You’re abug, insignificant and weak. You will never be more than that?—”
My hand lashes out, slapping his face with force I didn’t know I was capable of.
His head whips to the side, as he was completely taken off guard.
My palm instantly stings, burning the same way as my eyes. Tears drop from my lashes, rolling down my cheeks and falling to the floor between us, slicing through the tension in the air.
He’s frozen, leaning down and staring deep into my eyes with a rawness I wasn’t ready to see. But he doesn’t deserve my sympathy or mercy.
He deserves to feel the same pain I do.
I’m done playing it safe or calm and collected, as I was raised. I’m not a punching bag for anyone. Especiallyhim.
This is what he’s done—turned me into someone I don’t even recognize.
“It’s sad, Malik. Pathetic really. That you hate yourself so deeply that you have to take it out on everyone else around you just to cope with the world.”
I stand up taller. My words leave my mouth, but they don’t sound like my own—confident, cold, and calculated. “But what’s even more disappointing is that you are a ball of wasted potential and effort. Your life has and always will amount tonothing. No matter how hard you try to prove to the world that you belong here, you don’t. ButI do,and you damn well know it.”
His nostrils flare, and his mouth twists in disgust, but he says nothing in response, only stares at me with absolute rage.
Something clicks inside of me, something I’m not sure can ever be undone. But one thing’s for sure: I won’t fear Malik any longer. His power over me is gone for good. I’ll stick to my side of the world as long as he does the same.
Turning around, I cut off his chance to say anything at all as I stride away with my head held high, walking out of the front doors of the Kensington mansion.
* * *
Sunny and I barely left the room after the party this weekend. The next morning, I felt hungover even though I hadn’t had a single sip of alcohol. But I imagine it had more to do with the stress of dealing with Malik.
Stress can trigger my POTS symptoms occasionally, and it most definitely did on Friday night.
Saturday, when I woke up, I knew it was going to be a rough day. My head was already pounding, my feet and hands were cold, and I felt nauseous instantly. Sunny was extra attentive yesterday, not wandering more than a couple of feet from me the entire day. I was laid up in bed with my legs elevated, only getting up for bathroom breaks and to get food from the delivery drivers who brought me all of my meals.
One of the most annoying parts of an episode is the fact that I have to stay as hydrated as possible, but then I have to get up so much more than I want to because I have to pee constantly. Slowly sit up, ease into standing, and go slow, every time.
Thankfully, I felt a lot better yesterday and even more so this morning, so I can still attend my classes today. I wouldn’t be as stressed to attend them, but it’s the first day for my history one as it was scheduled to start a week late and I would hate to miss it.
My phone dings on my piano bench. I pick it up, finding a text from Blair.
Blair: Feeling better today?
When I left the party on Friday, I texted her as I got into a Lyft and let her know. I still felt horrible for just leaving. But I couldn’t be there any longer. I wanted to be home and in bed. I told her I wasn’t feeling well, which wasn’t a complete lie, as my episode started shortly after I relieved Sunny’s sitter.
Much better. Thank you!
