I suck on my lower lip. “I’m not interested in living a dark, violent life. But when violence is called for… it’s called for.As you know.”
“Yeah, in the moment, there’s no help for it. Sometimes a girl has to grab a bookend and use it as a weapon. But it’s worth remembering, Erik, that violence can cause more trouble than it’s worth. Especially after the fact.” Her fingers touch my jaw. “I’d like us to have a chance to be together. That’s what I’m saying.”
Swallowing, I glance down to where her knees are touching the outsides of my legs. And I’m thinking about her sitting on my lap to give me a kiss. “Yeah, same,” I say, raising my eyes again to meet hers.
“Let’s not jeopardize this,” she whispers.
I want Delmer and Wilson dead. But Arya’s not wrong. Killing rich college boys with connections carries significant risk. Especially with the FBI and local PD hovering around campus.
“If you want me to ignore the past, I will,” I say. “As long as it stays there.”
Arya wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. The unforgettable taste of her kiss hits me like a raging storm at sea. One that could drag me into an abyss. In this moment, I’m the most alive I’ll ever be.
From the beginning, I’ve had zero control over how I feel about Arya.
Not when I want to fuck her. Not when I’m furious at her.
And not now, when I’m falling in love with her.
For me, the girl is a force of nature.
32
ERIK
With Shane’s encouragement, Arya and Avery take their spiked coffees to the back of the loft where I’ve got a projector for streaming. Once they’re tucked in on a sofa with blankets and the space heater between them, I set the system up for them.
Shane and I return to the living room.
The volume rises on some action flick, and the soundtrack blares, echoing off the rafters. I grimace, and Shane smirks.
“How’s it going having a roommate who doesn’t go for your home’s silent-as-a-tomb vibe?”
“How is it trailing your girl to lectures on Women’s Studies?”
Shane’s smile widens. “A lot of things are tolerable when there’s a beautiful woman involved.”
Agreed, I think but don’t say it. “So, the Lambda Deltas. The mail bomb investigation comes down to one thing. Arya said she was with a friend the frat guys assumed wouldn’t balk at a gangbang/orgy scenario. Assuming it was Octavia Muñiz—”
“She wouldn’t say who the friend was?”
“No, but it was Octavia. No Lambda Delta would drag an heiress with Dean Nyball on speed dial into a room to rape her, so not Eden Buchanan.” I tap my fingertips against the side of my thumb. “Wilson assumed that in a he-said-she-said match, he would win over a scholarship girl who’s been a willing participant in other gangbangs. Wilson’s mistake was he underestimated Arya’s ability to wield a bookend.”
Shane exhales a long breath through pursed lips, his face a dark scowl.
“Here’s the thing.” I swallow, trying to rebury my rage. “In general, Octavia keeps things on the downlow. After the Lambda House incident, Tavi realized the brothers knew about her group scene activities. She thought Arya had told her then-boyfriend, Delmer. Arya swears she didn’t. So, how did the Lambda Deltas know? This would’ve been sophomore year.”
“You think an Ex Fato sugar daddy bragged to a Lambda Delta? Risky. Those DK alums have a lot to lose if the arrangement is exposed. It would blow up the operationandtheir lives.” Shane leans forward and pours more whiskey into his mostly empty mug.
I do the same with mine. “With the Lambda Deltas, we haven’t found anything other than surface connections to the Dark Knights, right?”
“Right.” Shane glances up. “On your six.”
I look over my shoulder to find Arya approaching.
“Hey.” She perches on the arm of the couch near me. “Did you see the text Heyworth forwarded from the Dean of Academic Affairs?”
“No.”
