Chapter 138: Biting Back

Micah’s POV

The last thing I wanted in this entire world was to look like the weakling they presumed me to be.

Especially in front of her.

Jennifer Riley.

Just looking at her smug, arrogant face brought all the suffocating humiliation from the mall rushing back into my throat.

I could still see her perfectly in my mind... clinging to Damon’s arm like she owned him, pressing her chest against him, walking through that luxury store with that disgusting, victorious smile. She had acted like Damon’s girlfriend, parading him around like a prize, when in reality she was nothing more than a manipulative fake who used cheap blackmail just to force him on a date.

And now, she was standing in front of me on my own campus, looking down at me like I was dirt beneath her expensive designer shoes.

A hot fury clawed up from the bottom of my stomach. I gritted my teeth together so hard my jaw muscles throbbed. I was sick of it. I was so damn sick of being the person everyone thought they could push around, kidnap, threaten, and mock without facing a single consequence.

"What should we do to him?" Jenny asked, turning her head toward her two friends with a cruel sneer. "Lock him up in the janitor’s closet or what? Maybe leave him in the dark for a few hours so he learns his place?"

The two girls beside her burst into loud, obnoxious laughter.

"Come on now, Jenny," the girl on her left chimed in, tossing her dyed hair over her shoulder. "This isn’t high school anymore. If you lock him in a closet, he might run straight to his holy pastor father and cry about being bullied. You know how those church freaks love playing the victim."

The three of them laughed harder, their shrill voices echoing off the brick walls of the lecture hall.

Hearing them mention my father made me even angry. They had no idea what kind of monster Bernard Miller really was. They had no idea what real terror felt like. They were just spoiled, bored campus brats who thought their parents’ bank accounts made them untouchable.

The third girl took a slow step toward me. Her eyes dropped down to the two heavy thermal bags I was holding against my chest.

"What’s in the bags, anyway?" she asked, reaching her hand out toward the strap. "Did you bring lunch for your big, scary brother, little boy?"

I immediately yanked both bags behind my back, stepping out of her reach. My pulse was pounding in my ears.

"I have somewhere important to be," I said coldly, keeping my voice firm, refusing to let it tremble even a little bit.

I didn’t wait for permission. I took a hard step forward, aiming straight for the narrow gap between Jenny and the girl on her right. I slammed my shoulders directly into theirs, shoving my way through with all the force I had in my body.

"Hey!" Jenny gasped, stumbling sideways as our shoulders collided.

"Watch where you’re going, you little freak!" the other girl snapped, rubbing her arm where I had bumped her.

I kept walking, not even bothering to look back. I had ten minutes to get up to Room 304 for Raven’s briefing, and I wasn’t going to let three shallow bullies make me late.

"That tiny, pesky bastard..." one of them grunted behind me.

Before I could take another three steps, a sharp, violent blow caught me completely off guard.

From behind, a heavy kick struck the bottom of my right arm!

The force jerked my arm upward, ripping the handle of the first thermal bag straight out of my grip.

"No!" I shouted.

I watched in horror as the heavy bag flipped through the air. It hit the hard concrete paving stones with a crash. The zipper burst open. The glass container inside shattered, sending warm white rice, seasoned roasted chicken, and rich dark sauce spraying across the dirty pavement.

The entire meal was ruined.

I froze dead in my tracks, staring down at the scattered glass and food on the ground.

My heart felt like it stopped beating.

That was Noah’s dinner.

I had spent two entire hours in the kitchen preparing that food for him. I had carefully roasted that chicken, seasoned the vegetables, and packed his favorite side dishes so he would have something hot and nourishing to eat after breaking his body on the ice for seventy-two straight hours. Noah was pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion just to get revenge on the people who had hurt me, and now his dinner was smashed into the dirt.

Behind me, the sound of cruel, high-pitched giggles filled the quiet air.

"Oops," a voice laughed. "My foot must have slipped."

I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted the sharp, metallic tang of blood in my mouth.

Something inside my chest completely snapped.

The quiet, terrified boy who had spent his entire life shrinking into the background, bowing his head, and letting people walk all over him was suddenly gone. In his place was a blinding, suffocating rage that made my entire vision flash red.

I clenched my free hand into a tight, trembling fist.

I slowly turned around on my heel.

Standing right behind me, less than two feet away, was Jennifer Riley. She had her hands rested smugly on her hips, her lips curved into a triumphant grin. She was the one who had kicked the bag. She was standing right over the spilled rice, looking down at me like she had just won a prize.

"Look at that mess," Jenny taunted, tilting her chin up. "Maybe you should get on your knees and lick it up like the little dog you are—"

SMACK!

A loud crack echoed through the open courtyard.

I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate. I lifted my right arm and struck her across the face.

The impact was so loud and vicious that the two girls behind her let out a collective gasp.

Jenny’s head whipped violently to the left. Her hair flew wildly across her face.

A few students who were walking along the distant main path stopped dead in their tracks, turning their heads to stare at us in silence. Whispers immediately broke out across the quad.

Jenny stood frozen for a second, her hand slowly rising to clutch her bright red, stinging cheek.

Her eyes widened in shock. Tears of sudden pain and humiliation welled up in the corners of her eyes, her chest heaving as she glared at me like she couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.

"How... How dare you?!" Jenny shrieked, her voice shaking violently with rage. "You worthless piece of trash! Do you have any idea who—"

Before she could finish the sentence, I raised my right hand again, pulling it back as if to strike her a second time.

Jenny gasped, flinching backward in panic.

She took a step backward, completely forgetting that she was wearing four-inch designer stiletto heels. Her ankle bent sideways on the paving stones with a wobble.

"Ah!" she cried out.

Her balance completely gave out. Her legs slipped beneath her, and she fell hard, crashing flat onto her butt right on the cold, dirty concrete.

The two girls beside her froze in utter shock, their mouths hanging wide open, too stunned to even reach down and help her up.

I took two slow steps toward where she sat sprawled on the ground.

I lowered myself onto one knee, crouching down until my face was hovering right beside hers.

Jenny shrank back against the paving stones, her eyes wide with fear, her lips quivering as she looked at me. She had expected a timid, helpless victim she could step on, but she was looking directly into the cold, dangerous fury of someone who had survived being thrown off a third-floor building three days ago.

I leaned in closer, my lips hovering right next to her ear, and spoke in a low, poisonous whisper that only she could hear.

"If you really want to find out how I was able to get Damon’s attention..." I paused, letting every single word sink deep into her skull, "...why don’t you start by having a dick?"

Jenny’s entire body went rigid.

The color drained out of her face so fast she looked like a corpse. Her mouth opened, her painted lips trembling pathetically as she tried to form words, tried to spit out an insult, tried to scream at me... but nothing came out. Not a single sound. She was completely paralyzed by the humiliation in my voice.

I pulled away, rising smoothly to my feet.

I looked down at the three of them sitting and standing there like useless statues.

"Tsk... Brats," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head with pure, unadulterated disgust.

I bent down, grabbed the broken thermal bag by its torn strap, and picked up the shattered, empty glass container from the ground. I carried the ruined mess over to a nearby concrete trash bin, dumping it inside with a clatter before wiping my hands roughly on the fabric of my trousers.

I walked back to where my second bag was sitting untouched on the pavement.

I picked up Damon’s food bag, clutching the heavy strap tightly in my grip.

My chest ached with frustration. Noah’s dinner was completely destroyed because of those three idiots. There was no way in hell I could walk into the arena locker room and hand Damon a fresh, hot meal while my own brother sat there with nothing to eat.

"Let’s just go for the meeting first," I whispered softly to myself, forcing the burning rage down into a cold, steady focus. "Think about the food later, Micah."

I adjusted the strap over my shoulder, turned my back on the pathetic scene behind me, and walked straight through the double doors of the Media Arts building toward Room 304.