Being the Bad Boy's Victim (14 page)

I jumped at the noise, fear beginning to fill me. “Stop yelling,” I mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

“No! I won’t stop yelling because you’re pissing me off all the time. What the fuck is wrong with you?” he snarled, shaking slightly.

My heart was pounding hard, and I did the only thing that came to mind—I ran.

I unbuckled myself and flung open the door, sprinting off to the side. I must be in a park, I thought to myself as I continued to run. Connor was scaring me and I had to get away. If I didn’t, I was going to break down and tell him everything—something that I just couldn’t do. I ran around the playground and into a woodsy area. I came across a bench and a table that was flanked by a couple of trees. A perfect place to think.

I knew it was stupid to just run off like that, but after my breakdown this morning, I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t know what it is, but when I’m around Connor, I couldn’t control my emotions—especially the feelings that would run through me. As awful as it sounds, he reminded me of Sam. Well, the version of Sam that I loved. I know that a lot of girls love the kind of guy that is sweet and caring—the perfect gentleman. But for some reason, I was always into the bad boy—the one who was tough yet funny, caring but not sickly sweet, and had that sexy personality. Sam was all that—“was” being the operative word.

It all began when Sam started drinking. It was during that time that he became more sexually demanding. I remember the first time he hit me. Well, every time he did, the memory and pain became embedded in my head. Anyway, we were at a party and he had been drinking a lot, but he claimed that he was fine. I remember him taking me into an empty hallway, away from everybody else. We started kissing when his hands started to grope me. At first, I was okay with it, but then he slipped one of his hands down my shirt and under my bra. I was fifteen at that time, so I panicked and pushed him away. I could remember vividly the look on his face after I pushed him away—unadulterated fury.

The next thing I knew, I was crumpled on the ground with a throbbing cheek. I felt as if a car had hit my face. But like I said, I was fifteen. I was too stupid and naïve to leave Sam.

So the beatings continued until the car incident. That time, he accused me of flirting with another guy, and I ended up being abandoned by the side of the road with a concussion, two broken ribs, a black eye, and a broken arm.

“Bella?” I felt a hand on my leg, causing me to let out a startled shriek as my eyes flew open. I looked up to see a worried Connor crouching down in front of the bench.

“Why are you crying?" he asked, his hand stroking my cheek.

I instantly pulled away and brushed the skin under my eyes.

Awkward!

“I—I—I’m fine,” I stammered, my whole body trembling.

Connor scoffed, straightening up. “No, you’re not,” he said, looking down at me.

I looked away, taking deep breaths to calm myself down. “Yes, I…”

“You were being bipolar and then you sprinted off to God-knows-where. And then I found you crying and curled up on a bench in the woods. So, really, continue with your bullshit and tell me that you’re fine. It's entertaining,”

I looked up at him, wondering. “Why do you care? Huh?” I snapped, standing up.

“I…”

“No,” I snapped, cutting him off. “You have no right to act like I need to tell you anything. I barely even know you.”

“Well, that’s what we were supposed to do today!” Connor snapped in defense.

I barked out a short, sarcastic laugh. “You took me to McDonalds,” I hissed out, getting in his face.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m not good at this,” he sighed, looking down.

I hesitated for a moment. Did he just say he was sorry? Wait. This is Connor.

“I wonder why,” I said sarcastically.

His head snapped up and he glared at me. I could see the annoyance and anger in his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his tone low and dark.

“You’re not good at actually getting to know girls because you never had to! All you do is fuck around. Honestly, I doubt… no, I know that you never talk to a girl unless you wanted to fuck her afterwards.”

I was breathing heavily after my little rant. Then, I watched as Connor narrowed his eyes.

“You know nothing about me,” he spat out, turning to leave.

“Look who’s running off now,” I said, anger fueling my courage to speak out more.

Connor whirled around, nearly knocking me over. “Oh, so now you want to bond and shit?” he asked, leaning down.

I willed myself to not cower away, like I oh-so-badly wanted to do.

“I don’t see why I have to tell you all these things about myself when you won’t do the same,” I snapped, crossing my arms.

“I’m not the one who turned into some psychotic demon this morning,” Connor stated.

I flinched. All previous steam from my anger was completely lost.

“What was that all about?” Connor snapped, not noticing my uncomfortable silence. “Well?” he asked, raising his voice.

I flinched again, backing away slightly. This time Connor noticed and he frowned.

“You act like I’m going to hurt you,” he whispered, looking at me with a hurt expression.

I stared at him in surprise, guilt building up inside me.

“Why do you always do that?” he asked, his voice soft, almost pleading me to tell.

I was so tempted to just spill out everything right then and there, but I couldn’t trust him.

“Connor, I can’t,” I said quietly, staring at the ground. I numbly pushed past him and headed back to what I hoped was the general direction of the car.

“But you’d tell Liam.”

I should have ignored that and continued to walk away, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

“What makes you say that? Huh? Why would you even care if I did?” I snapped, turning around. I managed to hold my ground as Connor advanced on me.

He only stopped when he was right up in my face, causing me to tilt my head up to look him in the eye.

“You say you won’t tell me because you barely know me. So what’s your excuse for Liam? You barely know him, but from what I’ve heard, it seems you two have gotten pretty close.”

“Maybe because despite what you say, Liam is a good person. I would tell him things because he actually wants to get to know me, not just so he can get in my pants!” I snapped, glaring at Connor.

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I wanted to get to know you, too? That maybe, just maybe, there was a slim chance that this wasn’t all an act?” Connor asked, his tone surprisingly calm. His questions took me by surprise, leaving me speechless.

“But… well… if you really wanted to get to know me better, why take me to McDonalds?” I asked.

Connor sighed and looked away for a moment before looking back at me.

“I told you, I’m not good at this.”

“Well, whose fault…?”

“But, I put myself out there!” he said, cutting me off. “Look, it’s obvious that I’m not good at actually getting to know someone, even I knew that. But I took a chance with you. I know it was an awful attempt, but you can’t act like I never tried.”

Now, I was really speechless. I watched as Connor looked down, trying to hide the light blush that crept on his cheeks. So many questions were running through my mind that even I didn’t know how to respond.

“This is a waste of time. I’m sorry for making you ditch school. It won’t happen again,” he muttered, turning away. I was about to reach out to stop him, but found myself stopping and pulling back. I mean, what was I going to do? Hug him? So I just sighed and followed him to the car.

Over half an hour long of the most uncomfortable silence in the world and he never once looked at me, not even a sly glance! No, perhaps it was just me. I kept looking at him, unsure whether I should try to start a conversation or not. After he parked his car in the driveway, he unlocked the front door for me so that I could grab my clothes from the dryer.

Why am I being such an idiot?
I asked myself as I walked into the laundry room.
Connor Michaels put himself out there for me, and I couldn’t even mutter a “thank you”?
I scolded myself as I grabbed my clothes and headed back downstairs.

Halfway down the stairs, I realized what I had to do. I could feel the butterflies build up in my stomach as I slowly made my way out the door.

“Here are your keys,” Connor muttered, tossing the keys at me.

I caught them, thankfully, but remained standing where I was.

“You can leave now,” he said slowly, staring at me as if I were a "special" person. I frowned and glanced back at my car. But I needed Connor to take me home! I watched in horror as he turned to walk back to his house.

“But I don’t know how to get home!” I said in a rush, hoping that he would turn around.

“What?” he asked, turning around.

Yes!
I cheered to myself.

“I don't know how to get back to my house from here," I said awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Good luck, then,” he dully said, turning back.

“Wait!” I cried out.

He froze, but didn’t turn back.

“Please, Connor,” I pleaded softly, gripping my clothes tightly in my arms.

No response.

“Please?” I asked, my voice weak.

Nothing.

I sighed and turned back, heading towards my car. My keys were ripped from my hand as I held them out to unlock my car.

“I’m driving.”

I quickly nodded, hiding the smile that so badly wanted to spread across my face. We drove to my house in silence. In fact, the only sound that could be heard was of me stuffing my clothes in my bag.

“Thank you,” I mumbled as I got out of the car.

Connor simply nodded as he got out tossing me my keys.

“How are you…?”

“My bike,” Connor said, jerking his head towards the direction of his abandoned motorcycle.

I had forgotten about that. I headed towards the door, ready to unlock it, when I remembered my plan. I quickly dropped my bag and turned around, just as Connor was about to start his bike.

“Wait!” I called out, sprinting towards him and getting in front.

Luckily, Connor slammed his foot on the brakes, stopping only inches in front of me.

“What the hell, Bella? Are you trying to get yourself k——” he yelled as he yanked off his helmet.

“Thank you,” I breathed out. I gathered all the confidence I had and walked to the side of his bike, ignoring his confused expression. Before another second could go by, I leaned forward, stood on my tippy toes, put my arms around his neck, and kissed him. I pulled away after a minute or so, enjoying his surprised look.

“You put yourself out there for me,” I said, “I was a bitch to you, yet you still tried. And that means a lot.”

No response.

Awkward!

I looked at his face, attempting to read his blank expression. “God, I’m sorry,” I muttered, turning around. I walked a couple of steps before turning back around to face him, a surge of confidence running through me.

“Actually, I’m not sorry,” I said.

Connor raised an eyebrow, but remained silent.

“I’m not going to pretend that you didn’t make me actually like you when you admitted that you were trying for me. I don’t care if maybe that was some pick-up line you use on most girls. Because you know what? It worked.” With that, I turned away, walked back towards my front door, and picked up the items I dropped. But just as I unlocked the door, I was suddenly turned around.

“It wasn’t some pick-up line. I meant every word of it,” he said softly, leaning down to look into my eyes.

I stared back at him, not bothering to hold back the smile on my face.

“What do you say to coming inside?” I asked. “So we can talk, that is. You know, get to know each other better.”

Connor’s eyes were twinkling when I finished.

“Or we could just.” He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine.