Page 51 of Payback
“I want you to have a taste of your own medicine. Of course they are,” he countered.
“But I created them. Even now you’re striving so hard to be like me, but you’re not quite there,” I prodded. I knew my words would have repercussions, but I needed to regain some semblance of power. I had to remind Jared that he’d never outdo me. I was the true master between us. He slammed his book shut, placing it down before rising and striding toward me. A smile tugged at my lips as I pressed myself a bit closer to the bookshelf. He ensured there was hardly any space between us, trapping me with his imposing figure.
“Believe me, Alison, I wouldn’t want to be you. I can’t stand you. You’re the most disgusting person I’ve ever encountered, and I’ve encountered quite a few. I’d never desire to be you,” he snarled.
I inched closer, erasing the remaining distance to invade his personal space. His confusion was evident as he looked at me, and I savored the sight. Jared had no idea of the enemy he faced, and I intended to make that abundantly clear.
“And yet you’re striving so hard to be the big, bad monster. You claim you don’t wish to be me, yet everything you’re doing reeks of attempting to replicate the past, turning me into the underdog. The irony is that you’re the one who can’t release his grip of the past,” I pointed out. “If that isn’t a pitiful and obsessive fixation, I don’t know what is. If you were a tad more inventive, perhaps I’d tremble with fear.”
My words ignited a surge of fury within Jared as I drew parallels between us. Although I loathed the idea of sharing any similarity with him, it was amusing to provoke his anger.
“You’re not in control, Jared,” I asserted. “Not now, not ever. You’re borrowing my tactics, yet I’m the originator. You’re not intimidating me. You’re not seizing dominance. You’re a mere imitator, and we both understand how people view imitators. They’re vexing and rarely credited for an original thought. It’s endearing to watch you strive, but let’s be clear on who truly reigns.”
Jared’s anger escalated to new heights, his entire body trembling as I once again reaffirmed my authority. I might have surrendered myself to him, but I was no slave of his. I would never truly submit, and I underlined that fact in that very moment. I knew my actions would elicit his outburst, yet I reached out, patting his cheek as if he were a good kid for trying, but he was miserably failing. Despite his imminent eruption, I wasn’t about to allow him to succeed in breaking me. However, he responded by snatching my wrist angrily, twirling me around, and pressing me against the bookshelf. His grip was sharp, causing pain, yet my smile persisted.
“Not original, you say?” he growled into my ear.
“Think about it,” I told him. “Many of these tricks you’ve orchestrated are mere rehashed pranks from the past. They’re all originally mine.”
“So we used to fuck?” he taunted near my ear.
I chuckled. “Fine, I’ll give you that one. However, I used to confine you to cramped spaces, forced you to express gratitude, and made you weep and retch. I manipulated you into begging for mercy, and in doing so, established my dominance. Tell me, Jared, aside from fucking me, how have you strayed from the past?”
He pressed against me, emphasizing the presence of the plug in my ass.
“All right, perhaps the plug as well. Although I never inserted anything in your ass, it was close,” I taunted, twisting to glance over my shoulder, only to catch an unfamiliar look in his eyes. For an instant, it was as if Jared had vanished, reverting back to the same broken person from our classroom days. It perplexed me deeply, compelling me to call out, “Jared?”
He remained silent, yet pulled away from me abruptly, glaring fiercely. Without uttering a word, he left me standing there, baffled. However, I doubted he would leave me alone for long, so I resumed my duties.
Chapter 27
-Jared-
It was as if the air had been sucked out of my lungs. Alison had to push me. She needed to assert her dominance, and she had achieved the exact reaction she desired. I believed I had better control over myself, but evidently, I was mistaken, and then she triggered something. Although I still dreamed of many of the atrocities I had endured, there was one thing that always struck me hard. A memory that I had used over time to propel me forward, generating a level of loathing that transcended all else. Alison assumed my animosity toward her stemmed solely from the abuse and degradation, yet she had crossed a boundary that extended far beyond those things. She had started something that had utterly destroyed me, and at times the memory resurged with overwhelming intensity.
I retreated to the bathroom, hastily entering and shutting the door behind me. As I unbuttoned the first buttons of my shirt, I felt as though the past and present were intermingling. I struggled to discern my exact location. With my back pressed against the door, I sank to the floor, perspiration slickening my body, and a powerful wave of memories pushing forward.
A fresh face had appeared in our class—a new student. The teacher introduced her before directing her to the empty seat next to mine. My attention was fixed on the drawing before me—a sketch of places I yearned to explore one day. I barely registered the newcomer settling down beside me. I had learned to avert my gaze, hence my lack of awareness as she turned toward me, addressing me.
“… It’s a nice drawing.”
Her words eventually penetrated my mind, prompting me to slowly turn my head. She bestowed a warm smile upon me. She had the most endearing smile, accentuated by her braces, which surprisingly complemented her appearance.
“Um… thank you,” I murmured.
“I’m Verona,” she introduced herself, extending her hand.
I gaped at her in disbelief. I had grown accustomed to the bullying and the indifference. Being approached by someone interested in befriending me was an unfamiliar scenario. Observing my perplexity, she emitted a soft chuckle.
“Germophobe, noted,” she playfully quipped.
A smile emerged on my lips, and I refrained from correcting her assumption.
“Don’t worry. We all have our quirks,” she responded. “But I genuinely love your drawing. Would you consider creating one for me?”
“A castle?” I asked, glancing at a drawing of a castle featured in one of our history books.
“Yes, because what girl wouldn’t dream of having her own castle?” she teased.
