Author's note: As I have said, this is a darker fic and this chapter brings up some things that happened in Chapter 16. This fic is called Lovesick Toxicity for a reason. There's still a lot of this fic left, so I hope that you enjoy the journey...because let me tell you, it's going to be a journey. Both Damon and Elena are incredibly flawed and have a long way to go. Thank you for reading and thank you for the kind reviews! Enjoy :)

Chapter 24

Elena

"I'm only wearing this because you hid all of my other clothes," I defend, standing by his car, getting ready to walk into school in an outfit unlike anything I've ever worn before.

Damon wraps an arm around my shoulder. "You forfeited the game, so I won by default."

I shake his arm off, still not over his mood from last night. I left him in the car last night and stomped back to the pool house alone. It wasn't until three in the morning that I felt his arms wrap around me and move me so I was in my Damon cocoon with his warm limbs holding me captive.

By the time my alarm went off, he was gone, along with all my clothes. Hanging up in the bathroom was an incredibly expensive designer school girl outfit with a note pinned to it, "I won."

I'll admit, I almost wore the tank and boxers I wore to bed, just to see what Damon would do. Considering his mood, I decide it's not the time to test the limits of his sense of humor.

I know the outfit's expensive because the tags were still on- like he left it there to remind me that this wasn't your typical trashy outfit. A Burberry plaid mini skirt, a white button-down Carolina Herrera dress shirt, and a black oversize Alice + Olivia blazer— I mention these brand names because if you ripped off the label, I would've thought the outfit was purchased from a Party City. The knee-high socks and heals were overkill, so I didn't even think about wearing them.

By the time I put on the ensemble, complete with matching lace underthings, I decided the most humiliating aspect of this outfit is the fact that I don't wear anything like this to school. I wear overalls or jean shorts and if it's cold jeans. Notice a theme? Comfort is what I go for, not fashion. Believe me, I love fashion, I know who all the famous designers that hired people to design my clothing are— I don't see the point of dressing this way at school, because when I'm there, I want to learn not make a statement or become Insta-famous.

In all honestly, it's not that bad. Once I remove the knee-high socks and heels and replace them with Doc Martin boots, it's not something I'd choose to wear, but it's cute— I guess. I shift slightly in the mirror, making sure my skirt is long enough and my shirt doesn't bunch up. I pushed up the sleeves of the oversized blazer and I decide that it gives the school girl look a modern vibe— and the skirt follows dress code, thank the good lord.

I don't wear makeup and pull my hair in a top knot as a way to tell Damon that I do not approve of his antics and meet him in the kitchen of the main house where he has a travel mug of coffee waiting for me. He doesn't say anything, but gives me an approving smirk before handing me a new bag to put my books in and leading me out to his car.

Now here we are, standing in front of the school.

"Let's leave," I suggest.

Damon looks out at the building alongside me. "I'm fine with that, but you do realize you'd have to go through this all over again tomorrow, right?"

I let out a long sigh. "Yeah."

I take a sip of my coffee and am so caught off guard by the taste that I spit it out, spraying it everywhere. "Seriously, Damon?"

"I thought it'd help calm your nerves."

He isn't wrong.

I take another sip, this time letting it slowly go down my throat and warm my insides. "As long as I don't have a noticeably high blood alcohol level by third period, I appreciate the thought."

He glances sideways at me. "We can ditch this place for the day and go to Falls City," he offers.

I heave another big sigh and take a step toward the entrance. "Thanks to you, I look fucking stupid."

He leans down, matching my stride as we walk. "You know what I see?"

"Hmm?"

"Confidence, intelligence, the funniest person I know," he places a well position palm on my ass. "With a great ass that has easy access in that skirt for her boyfriend."

I slap his hand away. "Neanderthal!"

But I'm also smiling because it put me at ease.

People stare as we walk in together, but considering I'm used to it, it doesn't bother me. Damon sticks to my side like glue as we walk through the hallway. The closer we get to my locker, the louder the comments get. Most people say, "what the fuck" or "no way" but it's not as bad as the scathing remarks. Scathing remarks as simple as "Is this another one of Damon's pranks?"

Senior hall is a different story. Before we enter the long hallway, Damon wraps his arm around my shoulders and walks in step with me. By the way he holds me, it's like we're joined at the hip. I don't think air could pass through our bodies. No one says anything, they just stare as Damon strides toward my locker. In clusters they watch, waiting to see who the first to comment is.

Jessica Snyder is the first to make her move. Her petite body filling out a maroon cheerleading uniform, she prances toward us. "Damon, can you help me get a book from my locker? You helped me put it away last week, and now I can't reach it!"

Did he, now?

She tugs on his arm. "It'll only take a minute, please Damon!"

Damon pays her no attention, but I do not. "I can help you, Jessica!"

She frowns. "I don't think you can reach it, it's really high up."

"Oh, when I set my mind to something, you'd be surprised by what I can accomplish."

"It's just that, while you were mysteriously gone last week, Damon was ever so helpful. He bought me lunch when I forgot my lunch money, he carried me to my car after I was injured during cheer practice, and he took the time to help me with my math homework during study hall. The fact is, if you weren't here, he'd be helping me get the chem book out of my locker," she says, so sweetly that I want to vomit.

"The fact is, sweetie, I am here," I state with a shrug of my shoulders. "And if you need help getting that fucking book out of your locker, I'll gladly do it and then shove it up your lying ass."

There's a hush and then a stifled laugh breaks out- a laugh that only happens when you have to laugh but you know you can't. Jessica is about to say something, but Kate comes prancing over. The two woodland creatures, with big doe eyes give me the nastiest look their pinched faces can muster. "Just because you won the case against Noah, does not make you a victor in our eyes, Elena. You will always be the stripper daughter of drug dealer."

Not able to take any more, Damon pushes me against a nearby locker and captures my lips with his. Our kiss is worthy of HBO, it's dirty and so consuming, I forget that about fifty students are looking on. His right hand slides against my thigh and clasps firmly beneath my knee so he can hike it up and get closer. I know what he's doing and the moment his tongue slides against mine, I decide I do not care.

Damon Salvatore, the Prince of Darkness, does not do public displays of affection like this. He pays no attention to the girls that sit on his lap during lunch and the fact that Jessica is claiming he helped her put a book away is laughable. The Prince of Darkness does not do nice. Even right now, he's downright cruel with the things that he's doing with those velvet lips while his hand runs up and down my thigh.

Damon doesn't break away on his own, an administrator has to break us up. Specifically, Principal Hale. "Split it up, you two! This inappropriate display will not be tolerated in the halls of this school."

Damon doesn't listen. To make a point, I think, although, by the way he's kissing me he could simply not hear Principal Hale's bland voice. I don't stop him. Damon smells like his sandalwood shampoo and coffee and I don't want him to leave me. "More," I moan into his ear, biting on his lobe.

My back bites into a combination dial of the locker as he closes the gap between our bodies. His head tilts down toward my ear. "You like this, don't you?" He whispers into my ear. "Me kissing you like this in front of everyone who's hated you since you walked through those doors wearing those fucking jean shorts."

"Yes," I breathe, as a shudder runs through me.

Then a completely different feeling runs through me: shame. The bell rings and it's like someone turned up the volume, Damon is still making out with my neck, but I'm easily able to push him off of me.

Principal Hale stands a couple of feet away, his arms folded, wearing a look of irritation. "You two, come with me."

I wipe my mouth in embarrassment, while Damon looks beyond Principal Hale, at the audience that gathered to watch the Prince of Darkness make a statement. He wears a lazy smirk and his eyes smolder at the crowd. "First time I've been called to the principal's office for making out in the hallways," he says to the crowd. "Probably won't be the last."

That. There. That's what he was trying to do. Make a point. I'm the only person he's ever publicly made out with like this. It shuts up Jessica and Kate, who both look like they swallowed something foul.

"That's enough, Mr. Salvatore," Principal Hale says.

I'm standing like an idiot, completely caught off guard by what just transpired. Damon wraps an arm around my shoulder and guides me to the front office behind the principal. Principal Hale makes me wait in a chair outside his office while he talks to Damon. Damon isn't in there for but a minute when he leaves, holding a slip of paper that looks like a hall pass. Great. Damon will get off scot-free while I'll probably end up with detention.

"Keep your phone on," he says, leaving the front office to go to his first class of the day.

"Ms. Gilbert!" The principal calls from his door.

I stand up and walk into his office. He closes the door behind him but instead of taking the seat across his desk as he sits in his leather high-back chair, I remain standing.

"You need to stay away from Damon Salvatore- he's dangerous."

Well, I did not expect our conversation to go this way.

"Why do you say that?"

"In this town, you need money and a name in order to be powerful, and he has both. He'll only break you," he pauses, moving forward in his chair, he places his hands on his desk, intertwining his fingers. "I heard about the race on Saturday. I never thought you'd amount to much but you proved me wrong. Top of the graduating class, won state, and based on the phone calls I've been receiving, the choice of any college. If you stay with Damon Salvatore, he'll only bring you down."

This coming from the man that objectified me in his office not too long ago. Now that I won the case and brought down Noah, I'm suddenly a perfect representative of Mystic Falls High School and I make him, the principal, look good. "What did you say to Damon?"

"Told him to keep it PG in the hallways," he replies, simply. He signs a slip and hands it to me. "Go to class."

And here I was thinking I'd possibly get suspended. Is this how it feels to be on top? Did I replace Noah as one of Mr. Hale's favorites?

I take the slip. "Thank you, Principal Hale."

I turn to walk out. "Oh, Ms. Gilbert?"

I turn on my heels back around. His fingers indicate my outfit. "This look is much more reflective of your potential."

There it is.

I was waiting for it, the bastard. "Thanks, Damon picked it out for me."

I spin back around and walk out the door with a smile on my face.

XXX

"Where were you last week?"

I turn in my desk to see Caroline sitting next to me in the back, her blonde hair perfectly styled and lying sleekly down her back while her blue eyes look imploringly in mine. "Why do you care?"

"You won the case and then you disappear for over a week," she says. "Next thing I know, you're winning some big cross country meet, and Principal Hale wants to know if there's room for you on student government."

"Well, rest assured Caroline, I won't be seeking out a spot on your illustrious council," I reply.

"I didn't know you were number one in the class," she continues, ignoring my comment. "I'm in the top ten, but Kidd's AP Physics class killed me Junior year. How did you pass it?"

This is how little she thinks of me? Am I that surprising to everyone? I've known Caroline since we were kids, I guess it goes to show you how quickly rumors become facts in people's minds.

"I studied," I state.

"Really?" She continues. "Because people are saying you blew Mr. Kidd after the final exam."

"The magnitude of the total force acting on a ball rolling without slipping down a ramp is greater than the magnitude of the total force acting on the same ball if it slides down the ramp without friction," I explain. When she looks dumbfounded, I continue. "The magnitude of the velocity of an object must change if the magnitude of its acceleration is a constant."

"What?"

"Exactly," I state. "Physics requires logic, and if you believed everything everyone said about me after knowing me for as long as you have, clearly you lack logic."

I'm not satisfied with the look on her face. I'm saddened by it because I thought that one day we'd be able to repair what we had but clearly I was wrong. The teacher saves Caroline from having to utter a response, and instead, lectures for the next hour about cultural geography in ancient China. I take notes until I feel my phone vibrate. I secretly look at it and see that it's a text from Damon, "The teacher isn't looking, leave now!"

I sit up and look out the door window. No one is there. When I look at our teacher, she is in fact writing on the whiteboard with her back to the class. I glance around at the class and find that no one is really paying attention. Most people are either asleep or on their phones. I could easily slip out without anyone noticing that I left. Instead of raising my hand and asking to go to the bathroom, like any sane high school student, I wait for Caroline to turn away, silently grab my things and walk out. The moment I step foot outside, Damon pops up out of nowhere, grabs my forearm, and hauls me into an empty nearby classroom. He tugs me past the empty desks and lackluster bulletin boards. With his hands on my waist, he lifts me up on a teacher's desk and paces back and forth in front of me.

He looks stressed.

I can't help but laugh. "You okay?"

He waves his hand as paces. "I can't decide…"

"Can't decide what?" I reply, crossing my legs and leaning back by placing my palms on the desk and jutting out my chest.

He finally stops and stares at me. "I spent all of first period fantasizing what I would've done with you if we hadn't been interrupted and now that you're here, I can't decide where to start."

I chuckle. "Well, that's quite a problem."

He runs his hands through his hair, like the image of me is torture. "You have no idea."

"You know, Principal Hale told me to stay away from you," I goad.

He pauses, his eyes do that thing that makes me want to drop to my knees. "Did he now?"

"Mmm-hmm," I hum with a pop of my lips.

It's like something sets in him, his eyes darken and he seems taller and broader. "Take off your blazer."

I hop off the desk and shrug off the jacket. Damon doesn't let it fall to the floor, instead, he takes it and folds it over a desk chair.

"Turn around and place your hands on the edge of the desk."

I swallow. "Why?"

Not at all liking my hesitation, he strides over, places his hands on my hips, and flips me over. His slowly graze along my arm and holding me by my wrists, position them where he wants them. He pulls the bun out of my hair and runs his fingers through my locks before gently sweeping it to one side.

"Damon, we don't have time," I whisper, praying he doesn't listen to me.

With his chest firmly pressed against my back, his lips kiss the spot just below my ear. "Haven't we already established that you'd like it if my cock was deep inside you, slowly pumping in and out while these people that treated you like trash, watched me worship you?"

I moan at his words. Damon flips my skirt up and runs his hand along my backside. "I have thought about this ass, filling out those little shorts you wear, for too long."

"Really?"

His lips move to the back of my neck before his hand moves from my backside to my chest. His fingers play with the buttons of my blouse. "And these tits in those sports bras you wear during practice."

It only takes a slight tug, and he's ripped open the blouse. A couple buttons ping to the floor. "I liked this shirt, Damon," I chastise.

"I'll buy you another one," he replies, his hands reaching underneath my camisole and shoving the cups of my bra down so he can play with my hardened nipples.

"Oh, God," I cry. The combination of his lips on my neck, his fingers on my breasts, and my ass exposed in an empty classroom quickly bring back the interrupted feelings I had in the hallway.

"You are a need, Elena," he states. "Like air, water, and food, I need you and when I'm not with you…." He hesitates…his fingers pause their ministrations. "…I'm dying."

"Then don't leave me."

His fingers reach into my panties. "Do you mean that?"

What does he mean by this? Is this dirty talk or does he really think I never want to leave him? I don't to a degree, but we don't have all our classes together and even though the cross country season is over, I don't want him to accompany me on my runs and I don't want us to be joined at the hip.

He takes my hesitation for rejection, which only makes him more crazed. "I won't let you leave me," he argues. "I will make you need me like I need you."

With that, his fingers expertly press into my clit. He's not messing around, because he doesn't wait for me to recover from that sensation, he plunges two fingers inside me. I cry out, but it doesn't stop his assault. With his other hand, his hand grazes the top of my panties and pulls down with such force, they rip off and drop to my ankle. The combination of the friction of his hardened length concealed by jeans along with his long fingers playing with me like I am in this classroom only to be molded to his pleasure, I come undone. A moan that I don't realize is my own escapes my lips.

I feel the cool air of the classroom on my backside as Damon moves away. My thoughts are confirmed when I hear his zipper come down. I turn my head to see him holding his cock in his hands, rubbing up and down his length. He runs the tip of his cock along my backside tauntingly. "Do you want me to give this to someone else?"

Oh, God. If anyone came near him, I don't know whatever it is would force me to have use Diego Romano as my one phone call. Instead of letting him taunt me, I spin around and drop to my knees. The cold tile doesn't feel great on my knees, but I don't care. I slap his hands away and replace them with my own. My fingers don't fit completely around his length, but I don't care because I only tug a couple of times before wrapping my lips around his cock. Damon does not mess around, he groans and taking a fistful of my hair thrusts into my welcome mouth. With my fingers grasping his thighs for support, I let him abuse my mouth with his long, thick cock.

Damon only allows this to go on for a minute before he places his hands underneath my arms and hauls me to my feet. Then he flips me back around, presses me against the teacher's desk, and thrusts into me. We both let out a groan together. "Don't you see, baby?"

He says while he's balls deep in me. He grasps my chin, turns me to face him, and captures my lips with his. It's our first kiss since entering the room and I know we both needed it. He sucks my tongue, much like I sucked his cock before thrusting long and slow. In and out, taking his time like we don't have a class in a few minutes. "We need each other," he finishes.

Damon's hands slide beneath the hem of my now untucked blouse and beneath my white camisole. His fingers leave a painful trail from my navel to my breast. "Our journey is worthy of Shakespeare."

"So, we're tragic," I sigh, feeling myself tense up again.

His lips graze my ear. "Quite the opposite."

"How so?"

"You could've been born halfway around the world and my heart would've founded you," he whispers. "Because in order to breathe, we need each other. When you wake up in my arms, I exhale."

"When I see you after a long day and you make me laugh, I inhale. You pump oxygen into my veins," I whisper back.

Damon withdraws himself from me completely, turns me around so I'm facing him, and places me on the edge of the teacher's desk. His fingers adoringly cup my chin as his head lowers and he kisses me, truly like I am something he needs to survive. I know it's not true. I know we're lust and a lot of how we feel is pent up emotions. But I allow myself to enjoy his kiss, and when he thrusts his cock inside me, I enjoy being at the receiving end of his lust.

Damon cups my bare ass and brings me to him. I rely on my one leg firmly planted to the tile for support. I reach beneath my skirt and press against my clit, and the moment I do, I feel myself tighten around Damon's cock and I feel him spill inside me.

As we ride our orgasms, Damon runs his tongue along my clavicle, up my neck, until he's kissing me with such fervor, I almost believe the words he said. "Again," he says.

I shake my head and push him off. "I've got trig and you can't miss gym. I know you ditch when you can."

"You could come with me," he suggests, not caring that the class is only for guys. "We could run around the track together and I could teach you how to throw a punch."

"Yeah, I'm sure Coach Blackstone would love that," I reply, still sitting bare-assed on the desk. Damon goes to the sink in the back of the classroom and wets a couple paper towels. When he walks back, I make to grab them, but he shoves my hands away and on his knees, cleans me up. When he's done, he sweetly kisses my labia and it takes everything in me to not try to ride his face at this angle.

His hands clasp around the shredded remnants of my panties and pockets them. "Sorry you no longer have underwear."

He does not sound sorry.

I shrug, innocently. "Easy access for Rafe. I have my next class with him, after all."

"Take it back!"

I stand and straighten my shirt before putting my blazer back on. "You're the one that put me in a school girl's uniform. Whatever happens is on you."

I hear him curse and realize that he doesn't think I'm joking. "I am two seconds away from flipping you over my shoulder and taking you off campus for the day."

"Well, that would be a nice view for everyone, given that you ripped my panties."

A growl.

I laugh and place a placating hand on his shoulder. "Damon, let this moment serve as a reminder to not leaving me bare-assed beneath a skirt because you couldn't control yourself."
His eyes smolder.

"Oh my God," I say, finally figuring it out. "You like me bare because it'll leave me needy. You already know I'll make sure no one sees what's beneath this incredibly expensive plaid skirt."

He doesn't deny it.

"Asshole!" I shout, pushing him away from me.

I grab the backpack that fell off the floor and sling it over my shoulders.

"I'll see you at lunch!"

"If you think I'm going to sit with you at lunch, you're crazy," I throw back.

I feel a tug at my wrist, which I easily yank free from. Damon stands in my way of leaving, wearing an incredibly scary expression. With his black v-neck shirt and low slung dark jeans, he's an imposing force. "Do you really want to find out what'll happen if I don't get to seat you firmly on my knee in the middle of the cafeteria?"

I. SEE. RED.

"Do I need to remind you that I am not Ainsley, or Kate, or Jessica, or any of the other girls in your contacts?" I fix the remaining button on my shirt so it doesn't look as though it was ripped off. "I am not a member of your fan club."

"You're not?" He casts his eyes down, looking somewhat offended. This only irritates me.

I push him away from me, and he's so caught off guard he stumbles back- but not by much. It's a joke, really. Like a fly landed on him and he stepped back to flick it away. "Ugh," I grunt loudly. How can he not get this? "I am the fan club!" I yell. "There should be no competition because it should only be me, the treasurer, secretary, and president!"

And with that, he's so taken aback that I'm able to leave out of the classroom door without him stopping me. I run to the bathroom to clean myself up. I keep a bunch of disposable, single-use toothbrushes in my bag, along with wet wipes for when I have practice. My cheeks are flushed and my hair looks…well, freshly fucked. Damon has my hair tie, so I run my fingers through it and try to tame it as much as possible before the next bell.

Once I'm sure I can sit through my next class without offending anyone, I walk toward AP Chemistry and sit at one of the lab tables in the back. Everyone sits down and the professor explains that because I was gone when they reassigned lab partners I could either work in a group of three or work by myself. I decide to work on my own, relieved by the solace.

The professor is explaining chemical equilibrium when another student walks into the room and hands the teacher a note. He reads it before calling my name. "Elena Gilbert, the principal wants to talk to you."

I put my textbook and notebook back in my bag before walking through the rows of desks to the teacher's desk. On my way to the front, someone sticks out their leg. It's so juvenile that I decide to go along with it, except instead of tripping, I kick their shin. I hear a curse and don't bother to acknowledge who it is, except I can narrow it down to a girl based off the shoe choice. I take the pink slip from the teacher, thank him, and walk out.

What did I do? Is this about this morning? Did someone see Damon and I go into that classroom together? These thoughts swirl through my mind until I make it to the front office. I expected to see Damon sitting in one of the chairs outside of Principal Hale's office, but I don't see him or any other student in the office. I offer Janice a smile and hand her the pink slip. "Principal Hale wanted to see me?"

She nods her head, but I can't tell if it's to me or her computer monitor. "You can go on in."

Great.

I walk behind her desk and open the door, but Principal Hale isn't at the other end of the door. It's a very good looking, impeccably dressed, Italian maffioso. "Proving a point, Dom?"
He sits behind the principal's desk like he owns it. I'm more intimidated by him than I ever was of Principal Hale. Although, that could be the holster I see peeking out of his black Armani jacket. "I am very sad, Ms. Gilbert."

My stomach lurches. Surely he won't shoot me right here, although, even after Principal Hale's comments this morning, I highly doubt he'd mind if I was shot dead. I'm sure Moretti would pay him well for the use of his office. "Well, the school psychologist's office is two doors down. I suggest you talk to her about your feelings."

He laughs. "I am sad because I found out that half my Chirow was confiscated by the police. This will not do, Ms. Gilbert."

Oh shit.

"I sold all of your product, Dom," I defend. "Just as we agreed."

He nods in slight approval. "This, I know. But I believed I explained that I want my product on the streets, not in the evidence room of the Mystic Falls Police Department."

"It's not my fault what happens after I sell your product!" I yell desperately. "How was I supposed to know he'd get caught?"

"You should not have sold that much to one person," he explains.

"Ohhhhh!" I drag out the oh with dripping sarcasm. "I am so sorry that I didn't understand the finer points of drug dealing my first time out!"

"Sit down, Ms. Gilbert."

"No!"

He reaches into his jacket, takes the gun out of his holster, and places it on the same desk where Hale wrote me a late excuse slip just a few hours earlier. "Sit down."

I don't move, instead, I glare at him. "So are you and Michael Hale buddies or something?"

"I do not like this man. He is very irritating, but owes me many favors," his hands motion for me to sit, which I do not.

"You need me, you're not going to shoot me," I observe. "The least you can do is ask nicely and not order me around like I'm one of your goons."

His dark eyes blaze into mine. I am about a second from following his orders when he says, "Ms. Gilbert, please sit down."

I nod my head appreciatively. "Of course!"

I stride over to the desk and politely sit down in the chair across from his desk. When I've settled, he presses a button on the phone. "Janice, please bring me and Elena coffee."

My eyes widen. "You really know how to weld your power, don't you? Bossing around high school secretaries? What's next? Are you going to order the driver's ed instructor to take you home?"

He tilts his head to the side and gazes at what I'm wearing. "I could make you get on your knees, crawl under this desk, and wrap those sassy lips around my cock."

Well, that shut me up. No thank you, although I do squirm slightly in my chair. Goddamn Damon, forcing me to go commando.

"You are flushed," he observes.

"And you think it's because of you?" I laugh, hopefully convincingly. "I knew today was my deadline, but I thought you'd call me first. I didn't expect you to interrupt my chemistry class. I have the money, it's at home in a safe place."

"We can get it together," he suggests.

I didn't expect this. If he drives me home, he's going to see a stripper living there. I can't let him take me to Damon's because he can't know I live there. "I have class," I explain. "I can bring it to wherever you're at, later."

"That is not how this works."

"Why? What's the difference between now and six hours from now?"

"Because I want it now, not six hours from now," he explains. "However, I could be forgiving…that is if you still want the documents your father left you."

Did I just fall into a trap? He knew I wouldn't have the money, so he ambushed me here?

I heave a heavy sigh. I really am sick of this bullshit. "Cut the manipulation tactics and tell me what you want, or are you going to continue to hold the items my dead father left me over my head."

Blatantly interrupting us. Janice walks in with a tray of two cups, sugar, cream, and a coffee press. She places it on the table and excuses herself. Domenico takes time pouring us each a cup. I refuse my coffee with a glare. "What do you want, Dom?"

He takes a long sip of his coffee and glances at me. "You are not drinking your coffee."

"It'll taste like shit and I want to get this over with- rip the bandaid off and all that," I explain.

Dom doesn't care, he continues to patiently sip his coffee. "I have never seen you dressed like this."

Oh jeez.

"You are missing a couple of buttons," he observes.

Yes, I am.

"Is this some sort of torture tactic they teach you in capo school?"

"You are upset?"

"Of course, I'm upset. I sold your fucking drugs, but didn't expect you to want them while I was at school!" I yell.

"Language, Ms. Gilbert."

I sigh, in a resigned sort of way. Dom likes to keep things friendly, even if there's a gun in between the two of us. "So, how do you know Michael Hale?"

"He is a cousin."

I give him my most skeptical look.

"On my sister-in-law's side," he explains.

"Very loyal family," I mutter.

"My little brother did not marry in the Cosa Nostra."

"And you didn't disown him?"

He chuckles and shakes his head. "He is family but he is also an idiot."

"So he followed his dick instead of his brain?"

"Something like that."

I nod. "Well, Principal Hale is a jackass, so if his sister is anything like him, I'd actually find myself feeling sorry for you."

"We wouldn't want that, would we?"

"Nope."

Dom reaches into his jacket and pulls out a smartphone. "You will deliver a shipment to the location on this phone."

I take the phone and play with it momentarily. "So this is so I can find the location and so you can track me?"

A nod.

"I'll deliver your shipment, but I'm ditching the phone once I deliver it, understood? You have no right to track my whereabouts, not when you already have so much control over my life."

He reaches into his jacket again, and for a moment, I think he's going to pull out another gun and shoot me. Instead, it's a set of keys and an envelope full of cash. "You will leave now. I have talked to Hale and he knows you will not be at school for a couple of days."

I just missed school!

Then he does something incredibly unexpected. He reaches under the desk and hands me a bag. "This has all of the materials for the classes you are missing. There is a blue compact SUV parked behind the school, near the bleachers where you eat lunch." I ignore that little detail. "You will do this alone, if anyone helps you as they did on Friday with Chirow, I will burn the information your Grayson Gilbert left."

I…

"What am I transporting?"

"It is best if you do not know," he explains. "If you run into trouble call Diego."

Fuck! What am I supposed to do? Damon will know I've skipped out and he'll want to know why. Not to mention, Santiago and Mal are stationed outside the school…but not behind the school. What's behind the school other than grass and the track? "It's parked near the cafeteria loading dock?"

"Between two Sysco trucks."

Walking to the car is going to be even more tricky because the halls are empty. Anyone who sees me will report to Damon, it's a guarantee. He probably knows I'm in Hale's office right now. I wouldn't be surprised if he was waiting outside the door. Even if he's not, the bell for lunch is about to ring.

I really hate to do what I'm about to do, so I have to ask. "No more tricks, Domenico. I need those files Grayson left me. If I do this, I need you to give me your word I'll get all of the documents he left me."

He casually takes another sip of his coffee. "I will and I'll even let you keep the money you collected selling my drugs."

That's…thousands of dollars. That's college money. "Deal."

"The cash in the envelope will pay for gas and hotel," he adds, then slides the gun across the desk toward me. ME? "Take this for your safety."

"Am I going to be in a situation where I'll need it?"

"Probably."

"Not very reassuring, Dom," I state, taking the gun with my index finger and thumb and placing it in my backpack like I'm disposing of a dead sewer rat.

"Be sure to take the safety off before you shoot," he comments. "I sent you an email with YouTube tutorials on how to shoot a gun."

I think he's trying to scare me but I roll my eyes. "It's a Glock 17. I've known how to shoot one of these since I was in diapers."

Thanks to Uncle John.

"Just because I'm not a fan of carrying around a gun, doesn't mean I don't know how to use one," I add.

"Fine. Fine. You, Ms. Gilbert, are a badass," he acquiesces.

"Better."

Dom stands up, indicating that I can as well. He buttons up his jacket while I sling the backpack with a freaking gun in it, over my shoulder. I also take the bag Dom gave me with my books and homework. I stop him just before we leave the office. "There's one tiny itty bitty little thing I need you to do for me," I request.

He straightens, obviously thinking if indulging me is worth the trouble. Curiosity wins out. "Okay Ms. Gilbert, what is it?"

"When you walk to the visitor's parking lot, take the south hallway."

"And?"

I sigh, wondering how this is going to go over. I doubt Domenico Moretti is used to taking orders. "Pull the fire alarm."

Damon

I don't feel in control.

Of anything.

Her hair wildly swings down her back as she walks to class. The sleeves of the oversized blazer purposefully bunch up around her elbows, the hem grazes her skirt. I love what Elena wears, whatever she wears, but she deserves nice things. Today was going to be hard no matter what I did, but a designer outfit for her to wear when she walked into school would help give her the extra edge she didn't know she had.

I'm a different person than who I was a couple of months ago when I left rehab. I've become more crazed. It's because of her. With every moment we're together, I become more obsessed and less in control of who I was before that party. That fucking party that started this all.

I haven't received any news about the video. It's out there and I have no control over what happens next. Lockwood told me to wait, and I don't want to. Lockwood told me that we have to smoke them out, if we act now, they'll sell to the first buyer. Right now, they don't know we know. The plan is to buy it through an anonymous second party, but we still don't know who they're going through. I've called Lockwood so many times, and every time he says the same thing, "Be patient, Damon."

I am not a patient man.

Ford runs beside me on the school's track. "Damon, what's with you lately?"

I pick up my pace. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're like, never around man, and then I heard you put Frederick in the hospital," he says. "He's getting out today, in case you cared."

Patience.

"My only regret is that he wasn't conscious enough to watch me beat the ever-living shit out of him," I say, continuing to pick up my pace. Ford is all right, but I don't have time for this right now.

"He is a tool," Ford agrees. "Hey, just because you and Gilbert are together, doesn't mean we can't all hang out. If you, of all people, like her this much, she can't be that bad."

I grunt in reply and keep running.

Ford doesn't stop. "Worthington and Scott took things too far," he finally admits. "If I'd known what had actually happened that night, I would've never participated in those pranks or said what I've said about her. You have no reason to trust me, Damon, but we have most of the school year left. You're going to need allies."

Instead of listening to the rest of what he's about to say, I ditch him by taking a sharp turn and head for the locker room. Once I'm there, I dig into my locker for my boxing gloves and jump rope. I put them in one hand while I take my AirPods and phone out of my bag so I don't have the same problem that I did on the track. I put the AirPods in my ears and scroll through my mix of music, settling on a mix of 90s rock.

The moment I'm standing in front of the punching bag in the gym, with my hands taped up and my gloves on, a feeling of peace settles over me the moment Sabotage by the Beastie Boys comes on the mix.

Sweat drips down my forehead while I work the bag, I'm in such a zone, I lose track of time and don't hear the bell ring. I guess I'm not going to my next class. I take off my gloves and tape and finish my workout by jumping rope for ten minutes. When I'm done I shower and change, looking forward to seeing Elena at lunch. There's never a gym class before lunch, so the locker room is empty while I get ready.

My backpack is over my shoulders and I'm about to leave the locker room when I see someone who should not be around right now.

Patience.

"Just the person I was looking for," Chase says, walking between the rows of red lockers toward me.

I drop my bag on the bench. "Considering you're suspended and not supposed to be on campus, it must be important."

"You set us up," he yells, walking angrily toward me. He punches a locker in frustration.

I shrug innocently, watching his meltdown. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"This all started with you, you know. You're the one that started with the pranks and you're the one that spread the rumors," he adds. "Now you're with her, and you turn on us? We had your back for years before that party."

I raise my hands, palm up. "I believe I also ordered that no one touch her, you knew what would happen if you did."

"Noah is going to go to jail, man," he shouts. "I lost my scholarships and admission to Duke. Frederick is getting out of the hospital today. You took this too far."

Patience.

"I don't think I've taken it far enough," I say, folding my arms and leaning against one of the lockers.

I don't think Chase knows that I know about the cabin. They left me a note, but that could've been Noah's doing. While Elena was recovering in the pool house, Chase was the one that acted as though nothing happened. I spend a few seconds reading him. He looks like a mess, wearing a hoodie and gym shorts. He looks like he just got out of bed or just got done spending the last thirty-six hours playing the X-Box.

"How would Elena feel about you once I tell her about what really happened that night in August? How do you think she'll feel about you when she finds out how badly you wanted her out of town? Or what about what you almost did the week of her trial?" He argues. "I'll tell her everything, unless you come clean to the cops and help get Noah out of jail."

I drop my hands to the side and clench my fists. "You will never go near her again."

"I've gotten to her a few times before, shouldn't be hard to do it again," he adds, walking toward me.

I tilt my head to the side.

Fuck it.

"Where's the video?"

"What video?"

"The one you're trying to sell to the highest bidder."

"Damon, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about," he replies, confusion marring his face.

"Let me refresh your memory," I say, slowly walking toward him. Chase tries to back away, but there's nowhere for him to go. He could get expelled for being on campus if he's caught by a coach. "You drugged her, raped her, and then sent me her location written in her blood, to me."

"You know," he says, shifting his feet.

"I know."

A pause and then he licks his lips and looks up. "She loved it, Damon," Chase says. "She was begging to suck my dick while Scott rammed into her from behind. Noah had the honors of breaking that tight pussy in, but we all took turns. We could've kept her longer, but Frederick mixed up the dosage and she passed out earlier than we planned."

I. SEE. RED.

I growl and lunge for Chase so quickly, he doesn't have time to recover.

This time, I don't make the mistake of knocking out Chase on the first swing. I punch him across the face, successfully breaking his nose and keep going. He tries to fight me off, but I'm too crazed. I punch his face over and over and over and when he looks like he's about to pass out, I fist his shirt in my hands and pull him up. "You will be sorry for ever going against my very clear orders to not touch Elena Gilbert. You a fucking piece of shit and you will never be able to rest because I will take pleasure in letting you think the worst is over, and then I'll rip everything away from you."

Then I punch him a final time, effectively knocking him out. Like a bell going off in the boxing ring, the fire alarm resounds across the empty locker room.

I have to get out of here. I grab my bag and leave, but one of the football coaches stops me. "Fire alarm went off, Salvatore. You have to follow procedure, exit out those doors and walk to the front of the school so they can do a count."

I nod but Coach Harper stops me. "What happened to your knuckles, Salvatore?"

"I boxed without gloves," I lie.

"There's blood all over your shirt."

I look down. Fuck. I'm covered in Chase's blood.

"Help!" Someone calls from where I came. "Someone get the nurse!"

Coach must see something in my expression. "Follow me."

"But the fire alarm went off," I argue. "I really should line up with the rest of the school."

"Someone pulled the alarm, but admin decided to treat it like a regular drill," he explains. "Follow me, Salvatore."

I stand away from the lockers where Chase's unconscious body lays. Standing between the rows of lockers, Coach looks at the scene, his eyes cast toward me and he sends me to his office while he helps Worthington. It isn't long before Coach enters the office and sits across from me. "The police are going to come, so we need to get your story straight," he says.

What?
"There aren't cameras in the locker room," he explains. "Worthington isn't supposed to set foot on campus. You say he attacked you because he's jealous you're with Ms. Gilbert. I'll confirm whatever you say."

"Why are you helping me?"

"Coach Dean is a friend," he replies. "He brags about Ms. Gilbert's talent all the time. I saw the trial, we all saw the video of that little piece of shit drugging the water before she was attacked. I was glad when he was removed from the team, but most people don't want to believe what happened, happened. I've seen what that girl's been through over the years. Worthington got off easy. I'm not supposed to condone violence, but if they did that to my wife, I wouldn't have hesitated to do what you did."

He doesn't even know the full story but I'm grateful.

"The cops will be here soon, you need to change and wash the blood off of your knuckles," he orders. "Is there someone you need to call?"

I nod. "Thank you."

I leave the office so I can clean up. I already tried to call Elena, but she's not picking up. I decide to call Cameron.

"What?"

"I need you to meet me at the police station," I say.

"Again?"

"Yup," I reply. "Same story, different person."

"Goddammit, Damon!" He yells. "You're going to have to wait at the station because I'm scheduled to go into trial. You know the drill, don't say anything and make note of all the laws they break when they take you in."

Then he hangs up. Cameron is worth every cent I pay for. He taught me the basics after the first time I was arrested. I try Elena again while I change out of my shirt, but she's still not picking up.

"Damon!" Coach Harper hisses.

I put the phone back in my bag and rush back to his office. He gives me a confident nod as the police walk in. I'm cuffed and marched through the halls of the school. People are coming in from the fire drill, so there's a big audience. I glare at everyone while scanning the crowd for Elena.

She's not there.

Something isn't right.

My only comfort is that Santiago and Malohi are watching the perimeter of the campus. But something could've happened on campus. I'm supposed to be the one to protect her on campus and anything could've happened. Chase could've done something to her before he found me. I don't trust Rafe Powell not to try something. I don't trust Principal Hale either.

As I'm shoved into the back of a police cruiser for the second time in twenty-four hours, I decide that I need to change my schedule. Elena isn't going to like it, but she also doesn't know about the video. Elena Gilbert doesn't know about a lot of things, and I'd like to keep her in the dark about most of them.