Annoyed at her assumption that this hadanythingto do with Alex, I heaved myself off the floor. Not without a small moan of pain, though. Fucking Brandon had zero finesse or talent when it came to fighting, but you didn’t need a whole lot of skill when your opponent wasn’t fighting back.
“She’s hurt,” I heard Mattie tell someone, then muffled voices replied to her.
“I’m fine,” I snapped back. “Alex had nothing to do with this, so put your damn pitchforks away.”
“He had nothing to do withwhat, Violet?” Mattie demanded, sharp as a fucking tack. “What happened? Tell me!”
“Leave it alone, Mattie!” I barked back at her. I ached all over, my head pounded, and my uniform was covered in blood. Mattie was just looking out for me—I think—but she was going to catch the sharp edge of my foul mood if she didn’t drop it.
“I’ve got to go,” I added, gritting my teeth as I pushed up to standing. Sort of. I needed to support myself against the wall as my whole damn body shrieked at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Mattie blurted something about Drake’s party, but I ended the call. There was no way in ice-covered hell I’d make it to Drake’s party. I’d be lucky to even make it back to my room in this state. Most probably I should be heading to the nurse, but I trusted that bitch less than zero. I’d figure out how to find the supplies to stitch myself up … somehow.
My wrist buzzed incessantly as I cracked the door open and peered into the hall. It was deserted again. I’d been there so long that the next class had started.
Blood trickled down from a cut at my hairline, and my anger burned.
One thing was for fucking sure, Brandon wasn’t getting away with this. Not by a long shot.
I made it about halfway down the empty hall before I needed to stop and lean on the wall for a rest. My wrist was still buzzing away, so I glanced down at the display.
“What the fuck?” I muttered out loud at Rafe’s smirking face lighting up the screen. Curious, I pressed accept. “How the fuck did you get my number?” I demanded. “And why is yours saved into my palm reader?”
“Where are you, Violet?” he snapped. Not “Cinderella,” huh? They must be really concerned. That or he just wanted to see my messed-up face so he could laugh.
“Go to hell, Rafe,” I replied, too tired to play games. I hit end on the call and sucked up enough determination to keep going.
My wrist buzzed the whole way back to my room, and when I only had one corner left to turn, I gave in and checked the display. Twenty-seven messages and eighteen missed calls from Mattie, a similar number from Nolan, nine messages and six calls from Jordan, and a couple of texts from Alex.
There was just one message from Rafe:Don’t be such a bitch, Vi.
The fuck?
Fuck you. We’re not on nickname terms, it’sViolet.
Rafe:Vi is short for Violence. A more fitting name for you than Vengeance.
Oh, so were dropping the act now, huh? Nolan must have ratted me out, the bastard.
You think?
I meant it sarcastically, and hopefully my tone conveyed over message. I sure as shit wasn’t in the mood for a voice call just to trade barbs with the infuriating prick.
Rafe:You’ll see.
Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean. Ugh.
Angry at his cryptic reply, I leaned heavily on the wall while trying to figure out how to change his name in my contacts.
Angel:Reply to Mattie. She’s worried.
I smirked at his girly name in my contacts and decided not to reply. I’d been a bit of a bitch to her, and she’d really done nothing to deserve it. I’d call her later… after I’d cleaned up a bit.
I sighed, then pushed off the wall and kept going toward my room. It was a damn miracle I hadn’t run into anyone on my way back to the housing wing…
“Violet?” Alex’s sharp voice pulled me out of myone foot after anotherdaze, and I froze. “What the hell happened to you?”
My new boyfriend was standing outside my bedroom door like he’d been waiting there for me. Funny that it was him staking out my room and none of the others.
