“Maybe you should,” Theo says, not lifting his eyes from his iPad. “Unless you’d prefer your sister get kicked out of the hospital program.” He tips his chin up, staring at him with a face devoid of emotion. “She’ll probably die without that experimental drug, right?”
I’m not surprised the assholes have done their homework. It’s basic survival of the fittest. You don’t rock up to a new school without ammunition. And there’s no better ammunition than secrets and weak spots. My experience taught me that as well.
Secrets are the most important currency around these parts.
“Sit at the jock table, Emmett,” I say through clenched teeth. “It was never going to happen anyway.”
In another lifetime, before I was forced down this path, I could see myself with someone like Emmett. A nice guy with a side order of bad. Someone who could push my buttonsandrein me in.
But this is my reality. And the Emmetts of this world don’t belong in it.
He’s seething. His fists are balled up and ready to unleash pain. But starting something would not be smart. And he’s obviously got smarts because, a couple seconds later, he turns around and wordlessly retreats to the jock table.
“Let go of my wrist,” I demand, plastering a neutral expression on my face as I eyeball Saint.
“Are you going to behave?” His thumb makes circular motions against my skin.
“No.”
He smirks, and his eyes burn with intensity as he rakes his gaze up and down my body. His inked fingers continue exploring the skin on the underside of my wrist, and I squirm on my seat as a trail of shivers ghosts over my flesh. He notices, his full lips kicking up in amusement, the dark glint in his eyes flaring with liquid heat.
My core throbs, pulsing in fast succession as his intense gaze does funny things to my insides.
Why the hell does the bastard have to be so freaking hot?And why the hell is he the first guy to ever evoke this type of visceral reaction in me?
I don’t answer my inner monologue because I already know the answers. I just don’t want to admit it or act on it.
“Then, I’m not letting go.”
I’m sure the sharp edge of a blade pressed against that growing bulge in his jeans would do the job. And I could easily reach down and remove my knife from the inside of my boot, but showing my hand this early would be a bad move, so I shut my mouth and urge my twitching fingers to retreat.
“Let her go,” Sean says, casually peeling an orange as he stares at Saint over the table. “Agree to leave Sariah and Harlow alone, and I’ll help you claim the crown at Lowell High.”
Saint grins, yanking me in closer to his side. His arm locks around my shoulders, keeping me firmly in place. “We don’t need any help claiming the crown. We already own it. Tomorrow’s planned little show is just that.A show. A demonstration of what will happen to anyone who dares challenge our authority.”
“You underestimate Finn’s reach if you think a visual threat will bring everyone to heel,” Sean coolly replies. “But if you have the jocks and the cheerleaders on your side, any lingering resistance will die out. It’ll make for a smoother transition.”
Saint runs his free hand over his cropped hairline. “Why would you help?”
“Because I’m a pragmatist. This will happen either way. And I’d rather it happened without anyone getting hurt.”
Galen snorts. “What the fuck do you see in this sap?” He directs his question at Sariah. “You need to sample a real man, sweetheart,” he adds, cupping his crotch. I don’t know if he’s flirting with my bestie to piss me off, incite a fight with Sean, or if he genuinely is interested in her, but he’s already rubbing me the wrong way, and I hate that he’s getting to me.
That they’reallgetting to me.
Galen needs taken down a peg or ten. “I’ve already had a sample, and trust me, it’s nothing to brag about,” I drawl, wresting myself out from under Saint’s arm. I glare at him as he slams my hand to the table, pinning it underneath his much stronger, much larger, palm. And fuck him. Because he knows how to incapacitate me. If I had the use of that hand, I could free myself. Elbow him in the ribs. Hit his carotid at the perfect point to render him unconscious. Grab his nuts and twist so hard he’d see stars. I could attempt it with my free hand, but I’d have to stretch across my body to reach him, and his reflexes are too sharp. He’d see me coming and stop the move before I’d have time to engage.
“Try telling that to your greedy pussy,” Galen replies, slanting me with a poisonous look. “Your pussy was riding my cock so hard I almost impaled your womb.” He says this deliberately loud, and chuckles surround me as the crowd gives him the attention he seeks.
“I was squeezing that hard in the hope I’d break your cock,” I coolly retort. “Don’t convince yourself it was anything but an angry fuck when we both know the truth.”
“Enough.” Saint hauls me to my feet, wrapping his arm snuggly under my breasts in a way that screams possession. Holding me securely to his body, with my back against his chest, he whispers in my ear, “Make any move, and I’ll humiliate you in front of the entire cafeteria.”
As if I’d care.
I’m tempted to do it, just to piss him off, but I’m more intrigued to know exactly what The Sainthood’s game plan is. Nothing they do is without calculation. And I want to know their angle so I can counteract it.
So, for now, I’ll play their little game while I’m in the intel-gathering phase.
