I’m not prepared for what seeing him again does to me. My body locks up, my limbs shuddering to a stop so I cause a traffic jam in the aisle. Alec looks up. He brushes his hair from his face and stares me down, and I want to run and also to pummel his head against the wall until his face is mush.
He smiles at me – a sinister smile, devoid of cockiness. This smile isn’t saying –I’ve come back to taunt you.
It says,I’ve come back to kill you.
Before I can react, Gabriel leans over Alec’s desk. “Don’t you dare look at Mackenzie.”
“It’s a free country, Fallen.” Alec flashes Gabe a toothy grin.
“We’re watching you. If we hear you’ve touched a girl in this school, Mackenzie will cut your dick off.”
Alec peers at Tiberius, begging him for help. Tiberius reads the situation in my face and leans back in his chair, arms behind his head, a smug smile playing across his scarred face. Alec’s smile freezes as he realizes the teacher isn’t rushing to help him. He recognizes Tiberius from the night we broke into his house and branded his forehead. His face pales, his shoulders stiffen, his whole body goes limp.
Gabriel lets go of his collar and slides into a seat, deliberately placing himself between me and Alec.
“Hello, students. My name is Mr. Garcia, and I’ll be your new English teacher for the rest of the year while Mrs. Berkdale deals with some family business. I know you’re excited to get back to your study of Oscar Wilde, so we’ll begin by discussing the importance of sin and redemption in Wilde’s work, and how it reflects the social and racial landscape of the period—”
“Where is Mrs. Berkdale, really?” Gabriel whispers to me as Tiberius drones on.
“Relax. We didn’t bury her in the desert, if that’s what you’re asking. Antony gave her a generous payment to invent a family emergency and fuck off for the rest of the year. At this moment she’s probably enjoying her complimentary piña colada on her flight to Aruba.”
“Who’s going to believe this guy’s an English teacher?”
“Way to make assumptions based on someone’s looks, Fallen. He’s got a Masters in English Lit from Yale,” I shoot back. “He’s a mobster because teaching a bunch of spoiled prep-school brats pays shit. Now, back straight and pay attention. You don’t want to know what Tiberius Garcia does to naughty Brit boys who act up in class.”
Gabriel laughs, but he swivels his chair to face the front of the room and refers to his notes like he’s actually taking in what Tiberius says.
I wish I could enjoy Tiberius’ English class, not least because Cleo’s lame attempts to get his attention were pathetic beyond measure. But even though I don’t look into the corner once, I can still feel Alec’s presence in the room – a poison gas that I suck with every breath.How is he back? How can he possibly be back?
Even though I don’t hear a word of what Tiberius says, I notice that even the guys pay more attention than usual, and while there are a lot of meaningful glances, no one dares pass notes or act up. You don’t see people who look like Tiberius at Stonehurst Prep, and the guy has a certain…presence. Sure, there are jocks – Eli’s toned in a lean, crisp way, and Noah is jacked AF – but Tiberius could destroy any of them with his pinkie finger and they knew it.
Most of all, I love Alec LeMarque’s white, terrified face.
I watch out of the corner of my eye as Alec pulls his phone from his pocket and texts someone. If he’s hoping his daddy will pull some strings for him at the school, he’s shit out of luck. Money talks, but violence is louder. I control Stonehurst Prep now.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Gabriel asks as we shuffle toward our next class.
“I heard military school wouldn’t take him.” A guy named Mark comes up beside us – one of the jocks who hangs out in Eli and Noah’s crowd. I remember him from the desert. He was the one whose cheek I sliced open with my blade. Mark runs a hand through his hair and blinks at me. “Hi, Mackenzie.”
He sounds nervous. He should be. I had a feeling he’s only being friendly now because he doesn’t want to have my initials branded into his forehead. Normally, I hate a suck-up, but we need all the allies we can get in Stonehurst, so I force a smile. “Nice to see you again, Mark.”
“See you at lunch.” Gabe pats the guy on the shoulder. I can tell he hates doing it, but he knows the rules the same as I do. We need to own this school, and that means making nice with people who watched Alec hold me down over a car hood.
At lunchtime, I slide into a seat at our new table, between George and Noah. Mark and a few of his jock friends take the empty seats around us, while others throw us dirty looks and head to Alec and Cleo’s table. All eyes flicker to us, watching where the popular kids choose to form their alliances.
My breath hitches as Eli enters the room. Noah’s talking to me, but I don’t hear a word as I watch Eli fill his plate at the salad bar. His fingers grip his tray so hard they turn white. His gaze flicks to our table, catching my eyes. He quickly looks away.
I don’t think I can stand it if he sits down next to Alec. Noah leans forward, his eyes locked on Eli, as invested in his decision as I am. Eli stalks toward their table but at the last moment, he veers away, dumps his full tray of food into a trash can, and stalks outside.
I shove out of my chair. Noah catches my hand. “Leave him,” he says. “He needs space.”
Noahneeds space. That’s how he deals with shit – by bottling it up until he explodes in a fireball of delicious rage. But I don’t think that’s Eli’s way. Eli revels in logic. He loves to solve problems. He wants to be the hero.
Just not for me.
I swallow down the bitter pill of his rejection and bite into my sandwich. I have to let Eli Hart go. It’s the only way I can think to keep him safe from Brutus.
* * *
