Chapter 111

“Now, Cynthia. Take off your top.”

Fear strangled me in its grip. I really, really did not want to do that. So I froze, deer in headlights, and couldn’t move.

This only seemed to make Coach irate. “Cynthia. Do you want these pictures to turn out or don’t you?”

I couldn’t speak. I shook my head.

“Or, maybe I should ask… Do you want to stay on the cheerleading squad or not?”

“…I do,” I managed.

“Great,” Coach said. He pointed. “Then take off your damn top.”

My stomach dropped.

Slowly, hesitantly, I began to unbutton my shirt. Too soon I was down to the last button and sliding it down off my body. I held both my arms over my chest.

“Bra, too.”

Swallowing thickly, I unhooked my bra and removed it. I trembled as I tried to cover my exposed breasts as much as I could.

“Great.” Coach licked his lips. “Now, all you have to do is lower –”

Someone pounded on the front door, loud enough for us to hear in the basement.

“Ignore it,” Coach said. “Lower your arms.”

“Coach, I don’t think –”

“Did I ask for your feedback? No.” Coach glared at me. “Now, Cynthia. Lower. Your. Arms.”

I closed my eyes. Then inch by slow inch, I started to slide my arms away from my breasts.

“That’s it. Just like that.”

Tears welled in my eyes. I didn’t want to do this!

The knock sounded again, loud and insistent. If the person continued pounding on the door like that, it’d likely break soon. As it was, it rattled on its hinges.

Coach dropped his head back and groaned. “I have to see who that is.” He placed his camera on a tripod and pointed at me. “Don’t move, honey. I’ll be right back.”

His gaze dropped to my breasts. I immediately righted my arms, hiding myself again. But he had likely seen. He winked at me.

I felt gross all over.

Coach left me then, traipsing upstairs two stairs at a time. “Coming! I’m coming!” he shouted as the pounding persisted.

I brought my body into the tightest, smallest circle I could manage. I wished the bed would eat me.

“Where is she?” Asher shouted from upstairs. “She hasn’t been answering my texts.”

“We’re in the middle of the photoshoot!” Coach shouted back.

“Like I give a damn. Where are you hiding her? Cynthia!”

“She’s fine, but you are not invited, Alpha brat.”

“I texted her twenty minutes ago and she hasn’t… is this her purse? Where the hell is she?” Asher’s voice grew in anger.

“Asher?” I tried to call out to him but my throat didn’t want to work yet.

I was so afraid he would come down here and find me like this, know what I’d done, and hate me for it. But I was equally as afraid that he would leave without me.

I couldn’t do much more than gasp out. “Asher…”

“Cynthia? Where are you?” He was searching for me, and beneath his anger, I heard his… desperation. His fear. He would rip this house apart searching for me.

“Asher…!” I called, a bit louder.

“I hear you!” he said, coming closer. “Keep calling me!”

“Asher!”

Loud footsteps sounded on the stairs, and I buried my face into the bedsheets, too embarrassed to watch him find me like this.

“Stop! I didn’t tell you that you could go down there!”

“Cynthia! I’m here! I’m…” He was close now. In the same room. With the way his voice trailed, he must have seen me. So softly, it broke my heart, he whispered, “Cynthia?”

Finally, I lifted my head and looked at him.

Asher stood at the foot of the bed, his jacket in one hand and my purse in the other. He dropped my purse but kept the jacket ready as he rounded the mattress, coming closer to me.

“Here.” He lowered the jacket over my shoulders. I immediately closed it at my chest. “Are you alright?”

I shook my head.

His blank façade cracked, as his brow furrowed with worry. “Did he hurt you?”

I blinked back tears, but a few still broke through and tracked down my cheeks. “Just pictures…” I motioned toward the camera.

Asher’s frigid expression returned at once. He swiveled on his heel and approached the camera.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Coach asked.

Asher grabbed the camera and removed the memory card. “Are there others?”

“What makes you think I’d tell you that?” Still, as he said it, Coach’s gaze slid to the desk against the wall to his left.

Asher went there immediately and grabbed every memory card he could find. He stuffed them all into his pockets.

“None of that belongs to you!” Coach said. He grabbed Asher’s sleeve, but Asher ripped out of his hold.

“Get your things, Cynthia,” Asher said. “We’re leaving.”

I obeyed at once, sliding off the bed.

“Now wait one minute,” Coach demanded. “She is wearing a dress that belongs to me!”

“We’ll return it another time.” Asher held out his hand for me. I instantly took it.

Yet as we started for the stairs, Coach reached out and grabbed the back of my skirt. He yanked, tearing it clean from my body.

Gasping, I clutched at Asher, who tugged me behind him. “What the hell, you damn pervert?”

“The dress is mine!” Coach shouted, shaking the torn white fabric in his grip.

“Upstairs, Cynthia,” Asher said over his shoulder as he backed me to the stairs. I was exposed, in only my panties and Asher’s jacket.

“I have… clothes… bathroom…” I struggled with coherent sentences, so scared out of my mind.

“Go,” Asher said. “I will protect you.”

I turned and darted up the stairs. In the bathroom, I locked the door and threw on my own clothes again, except my bra, which was still on the basement floor. I had no intention of going to get it.

A few moments later, the sound of Asher and Coach’s argument echoed in the hallway just outside the bathroom.

“I should call the police,” Coach shouted. “Breaking into my home, disturbing the peace! Kidnapping!”

“Kidnapping?” Asher said. His voice was dangerously measured now, as it often got when he was considering corporal punishment.

I had to hurry. I stepped into my pants and fastened them at the waist. Then I kicked into my shoes and opened the bathroom door.

Asher glanced at me and nodded. “Stay behind me.”

I was eager to follow his every direction. Yet, when I started to exit the bathroom, Coach jerked forward unexpectedly and caught me by the wrist.

Asher’s entire body tensed. He rose to his full height. His voice lowered, deadly. “Let. Her. Go.”

Coach tugged at my arm. In the same instance, he cowered from Asher.

“If you hit me, Alpha brat, I’ll have you expelled.”

Asher grabbed Coach’s hand that had snatched me and twisted. Coach, yelping in pain, released me at once. I scurried into safety behind Asher’s back.

“You –!”

“Expel me then,” Asher said, and unleased a punch straight to Coach’s face.

Coach, grabbing his nose, stumbled to the ground. “You little asshole!”

“Touch her again,” Asher growled. “See what happens.”

“I’ll have you thrown out of school! I’ll have you sued! I’ll have your family home burned to the ground!”

“Try it!” Asher roared, stepping closer to the cowering man.

I touched Asher’s back. I just wanted to leave.

Asher looked over his shoulder at me. After taking in the sight of me, he spit in Coach’s general direction, then grabbed my hand, and led me from the house.