Chapter 15 The price of a broken king
Chapter 15: The Price of a Broken King (Elena’s POV)
The crutches felt like heavy, wooden weights under my arms, digging into my ribs with every step I took down the hallway of Northview High. I had been back for exactly twenty minutes, and I already felt like a marked woman.
The doctor had told me to stay home for another week, but I couldn't. Staying home meant losing more ground. It meant letting Chloe and Liam win. So here I was, my left leg in a walking boot, my face still mottled with fading yellow bruises, trying to navigate the sea of students who usually treated me like a ghost.
Today, however, I wasn't invisible. I was the main attraction.
"There she is," a girl whispered as I passed the lockers. "The girl who got Liam suspended."
"I heard she provoked Jax just to watch them fight," another voice added, louder this time. "Now the team has to play the opening game without their Captain because of a charity case."
I kept my eyes fixed on the floor, my knuckles white as I gripped the handles of my crutches. The hate was a physical thing in the air, thick and suffocating. It didn't matter that I was the one who had been hit by a car. It didn't matter that I was the one with the medical bills. In this school, Liam Vance was a god, and I was the girl who had dared to make him bleed.
I reached my locker, but I stopped short.
Someone had spray-painted the word SNITCH in jagged, red letters across the metal. Below it, my ruined Calculus notebook—the one Jax had kicked across the gym—was taped to the door, its pages ripped and covered in dirt.
"Do you like the decor?"
I turned my head slowly. Chloe was leaning against the wall, surrounded by her usual circle of vultures. She looked perfect, as always, her blonde hair bouncing in a ponytail that probably cost more than my mother’s car. There was no remorse in her eyes—only a cold, sharp triumph.
"You're late for class, Chloe," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Don't you have a hit-and-run to go lie about?"
The girls behind her gasped, but Chloe didn't flinch. She stepped closer, her expensive perfume filling my space.
"The police dropped the investigation, honey. 'Lack of evidence,'" she whispered, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. "But Liam didn't get off so easy, did he? One week suspension. No hockey. No team. All because he decided to play hero for a girl who doesn't even have a decent pair of shoes."
"He didn't play hero," I snapped. "He played himself. He’s a puppet, remember?"
"Maybe," Chloe shrugged, inspecting her manicure. "But now the whole school hates you. The team is furious. Jax is the acting Captain now, and let’s just say... he’s not as 'charitable' as Liam. If I were you, Elena, I’d watch those crutches. It would be a shame if you had another... accident."
She turned and walked away, her laughter trailing behind her like a poisonous mist.
I managed to get my locker open, my hands shaking. I didn't have time to clean the paint. I grabbed my books and started the long, painful trek to the library for my tutoring session. This was the deal. The school board had allowed me to keep my scholarship on the condition that I continued my "academic assistance" for Liam.
I hated it. I hated that I had to sit across from him for two hours every day while the whole school looked at me like I was the villain.
When I pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the library, the back corner table was already occupied. Liam was sitting there, but he wasn't studying. He was staring out the window, his jaw tight. He had a bandage over his eyebrow from where Jax had hit him, and his knuckles were bruised.
I hobbled over and let my crutches fall against the table with a loud clatter.
Liam didn't look up. "You’re late."
"It takes a little longer to get around when your leg is broken," I snapped, sliding into the chair. "Not that you’d care. I’m just an 'investment,' right?"
Liam finally turned his head. His eyes were dark, shadowed by a lack of sleep. He looked at my crutches, then at the bruises on my face, and for a split second, I saw a flicker of that raw guilt. But then he masked it with a sneer.
"The whole school is talking about you, Elena," he said, his voice cold. "Jax is already making moves. He told the team that you’re the reason I’m sidelined. If you think it was bad before, just wait until the first game on Friday."
"I don't care about your team, Liam! I care about the fact that your girlfriend is threatening me in the hallways and your friends are defacing my locker!" I leaned across the table, my voice a sharp whisper. "You said you’d handle it. You said you’d tell the truth. Instead, you got into a brawl and made me the target."
"I was defending you!" he roared, slamming his hand on the table. A few students at the nearby tables looked over, but he didn't care. "Jax was mocking you! He was standing over your hospital bed acting like he owned you!"
"And now he does own the team!" I fired back. "You gave him exactly what he wanted. You’re suspended, and I’m the girl who ruined the season. You didn't save me, Liam. You just made the cage smaller."
Liam stared at me, his chest heaving. "What do you want from me, Elena? Do you want me to apologize again? Do you want more money?"
"I want you to leave me alone," I said, the words feeling like lead. "But I can't have that, can I? Because if I stop tutoring you, I lose my scholarship. And if you stop coming, you lose your trust fund. We’re stuck in this hell together."
"Fine," Liam said, reaching for his backpack. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper—the History assignment. "Then teach. Do your job, Scholarship. Let’s get this over with."
We spent the next hour in a cold, brittle silence, the only sound the scratching of my pen and the distant hum of the library’s heater. I could feel his eyes on me whenever I looked down at the book. It wasn't the look of a friend. It was the look of a hunter who had realized his trap had caught something he didn't know how to kill.
As the session ended, I stood up, struggling to get my crutches into position. Liam didn't help me. He just stood there, watching me struggle.
"One more thing," he said as I turned to leave. "Jax and Chloe are planning something for the pep rally tomorrow. Don't go."
"I have to go, Liam. It’s mandatory for scholarship students to sell programs," I said, looking him in the eye. "I’m not hiding just because your friends are bullies."
"It’s not bullying, Elena," Liam said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous warning. "It’s a ritual. If you go out there, I won't be there to stop them. I'm suspended. I'm not even allowed in the building during the rally."
"Good," I said, adjusting my grip on the crutches. "Maybe for once, I’ll be able to breathe without you hovering over me like a curse."
I walked away, the rhythmic thump-thump of my crutches echoing in the quiet room. I didn't look back. I didn't see the way Liam’s hand curled into a fist, or the way he kicked the chair over as soon as the doors closed behind me.
I reached the hallway just as the bell rang. A group of hockey players in their jerseys were standing by the exit. As I passed, one of them "accidentally" kicked the tip of my crutch.
I stumbled, my heart leaping into my throat as I nearly fell forward. I caught myself at the last second, my breath coming in short, jagged gasps.
The boys laughed.
"Watch your step, Ghost," one of them called out. "Friday is coming. And the King won't be there to catch you."
I hurried toward the exit, my heart pounding, when my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from an unknown number. It was a video—shot from a hidden angle inside the library just minutes ago. It showed Liam kicking the chair, but then it showed him picking up my discarded pen and pressing it to his lips before shoving it into his pocket. The caption read: 'He hates you, but he's obsessed. Do you want to know what the real bet was?'