Beneath His Touch

Chapter Twenty

SARAH

I storm out of the building, my chest tight with fury. I don't look back, not once, because I know if I see her face again, I might just snap. She's gone and made her peace or maybe initiate more with the others, spun the whole situation in her favor, and now it feels like the entire team's turned against me. Damn it, I didn't expect this, not like this. My hands clench into fists around the strap of my bag, my thoughts racing as I try to calm the rage bubbling up inside me.

The campus is quiet, the soft orange glow of the setting sun casting long shadows over the nearly empty walkways. Most people have already left for the weekend, leaving an eerie stillness in the air. I head toward my room, trying to breathe through the frustration, but each exhale feels heavy, burdened with the weight of everything that just went down. My mind keeps replaying it, over and over, until I feel like I might explode.

That's when I feel it—a sharp tug on my arm, pulling me backward. I barely have time to react before I'm yanked against a solid chest, the sudden proximity knocking the breath out of me.

"Scream, and I'll kiss you right here, right now, in front of everyone," a voice growls in my ear, low and dangerous.

My heart skips a beat as I realize who it is. "Javan!" I gasp, my eyes widening as I recognize him beneath the hood he's pulled over his face. His grip is tight, one arm locked around my waist, holding me flush against him, while his other hand grips mine, pressing it to his chest.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I hiss, struggling against him, but his hold only tightens.

"You fucked up, wildcat. Big time," he snarls, his voice laced with anger, his breath warm against my ear.

"Let me go!" I demand, but he pulls me even closer, so close I can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath his hoodie.

"Try to fight, and I'll make sure everyone sees us kissing. Believe me, it'll be all over campus by morning," he warns, his voice dripping with threat. I glance around and, sure enough, I can feel the curious stares of the few remaining students on campus. A couple of them have already started whispering, their eyes locked on us.

"Good girl," Javan mutters when he notices me stop struggling. He steers me away from the open walkway, guiding me toward the locker rooms with a firm grip. My pulse races, the adrenaline coursing through me making my mind spin. I can't tell if it's fear or fury pumping through my veins, but as he drags me away, I know one thing for sure—there's no getting out of this.

The locker room is an eerie, forbidden place—reserved exclusively for the rugby team, specifically the notorious "six bulls." It's off-limits to everyone else, a space filled with testosterone, dominance, and unspoken rules. Rumor has it, they turned the old, run-down locker room into their own fortress. A chill creeps down my spine as Javan drags me inside, his grip on my arm like iron. I feel a wave of dread as the heavy door creaks open, and I stumble as he shoves me forward, my bag slipping from my shoulder and crashing to the floor. The sound echoes, sharp and hollow, against the tiled walls.

"What the hell do you want?" I roar, the anger bubbling up from deep inside me, trying to mask the unease clawing at my chest.

"What's going on between you and Jared?" Javan barks back, his voice laced with rage.

I blink, thrown off by the absurdity of his question. "What?" I scoff, shaking my head with disbelief. "So this is what it's about?"

"Damn right it is!" His words snap out, like a whip.

I bend down, grabbing my bag, shaking my head in frustration. I let out a bitter chuckle. "You've gotta be kidding me. Fuck off," I say, my voice cold as I start toward the door. "Whatever's between me and Jared is none of your business!"