“He does what he can for his people.”
“Yes, yes, you’re both so fucking amusing. I had to re-sit a test for history, because apparently Mr. Smithton gets hard over ruining my life. He called my dad, so now I’m truly fucked. Why can’t I just drop out and make music and fuck groupies and get fucking blind drunk every night? Why do I have to learn inane bullshit about dead people? Why?”
“Ah, good. The dramatics have started, Mounty, settle in. We’re going to be here for hours while he gets this out of his system.”
Blaise slumps into his chair theatrically, and I scoff at him. He looks like a poor little rock star, forced to be a scholar. He groans and tugs at his hair roughly so it stands up everywhere. He has sex hair at the best of times, but now it’s bordering on obscene. I can’t tear my eyes away from it no matter how hard I try.
“I hate this place and I hate my dad’s business and I hate the expectations he has for me.”
Ash drops his hands and looks over at his friend with fake sympathy, nodding at him.
“Yes, so unfair to be the sole heir to a billion-dollar empire that your father sold his soul to be able to create. So sad. Do you want a drink, Mounty? May as well drown this tirade out while we have the chance.”
Ash starts snapping his fingers, like a bartender is going to appear out of nowhere. I smoother a laugh in my blazer sleeve. My chest aches at being so close to their friendship and playful banter, my favorite blend of sarcasm and fondness. The world is a cruel place to put this so close to me, but so wildly out of my reach.
“You know what, fuck capitalism. If we could be happy with what we have instead of constantly striving to be at the top, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Let’s be fucking hippies instead. Let’s make music and throw away all of our worldly possessions and ask the moon what it thinks about our problems.”
That strikes a familiar chord in my chest. My mom used to get high and talk like that all the time. It’s how I got my name, for god’s sake.
“No, no, I won’t be growing a beard and smoking joints out of a van like a fucking pedophile. Get it all out, though. Bottling it up will only make it worse.”
I tune out their banter, as amusing as it is, to look over Blaise’s classwork. He’s started bringing in bigger and bigger piles, and it’s clear to me just how far behind he really is. How he managed to convince his parents and the faculty that he could afford to miss the first few weeks of the year is beyond me. I’m good, but I’m not sure even I can work this miracle, given how little time we actually interact.
I’m about to interrupt the pity party to suggest we start in on the mountain of work when I feel someone walk up behind me. I tense, expecting it to be Joey, and a dark, hidden part of my mind expects him to have a knife. Ash and Blaise fall silent as the chair next to mine pulls back and a student I don’t recognize sits down. He’s blond and broad, but with none of the grace or stunning features that Harley has.
“Can I help you?” I say, aiming for a light tone.
“Sure you can. I wanted to discuss the sweep Joey started.”
For fuck’s sake.I cut him an icy glare, but he just smiles in return. His teeth are too straight, a fake white row that makes him look like an android. Everything about him makes my teeth clench so hard my jaw aches.
“Look, it’s admirable that you’re taking a stand and refusing to fuck anyone for the sake of the money. It shows you have more integrity than the average Mounty. At some point, someone is going to fuck you and get the money. Why not give Joey a taste of his own medicine and let me fuck you for it? I’ll even give you a percentage of the sweep for your troubles.”
A percentage. For my troubles. I silently weigh up my options. There’s three librarians, and two are within eyesight of our table. If I slam his face into the desk and break his pompous nose, there’ll be too many witnesses. If I ignore him, he might go away, or maybe he’ll start stalking me instead. I could call the Jackal and have him murdered in his sleep.
The guy, who still hasn’t even told me his name, slings an arm over my shoulders and his hand ends up hovering over my chest. I have what can only be described as a full rage blackout.
One minute he’s laughing and touching me, and the next he’s howling and clutching his now-broken hand to his chest like it’s a baby bird. I’m much faster than he is, and while he’s flailing, I slap a hand over his mouth so the librarians don’t assume he’s being murdered and come over here to stop me. He could push me off, but he’s too busy losing his shit over his mangled hand.
“What’s your name, asshole?” I whisper. He’s swearing and sweating too much to answer, so Blaise surprises me by doing it for him.
“Mounty, this is Samuel Hanson. He’s a sophomore and he’s at risk of being kicked out by his parents because he’s been caught gambling away his trust fund. Is that why you need the money, Sammy-boy? Run out of funds to feed your addiction?”
Samuel manages to stop screaming, so I let my hand drop away from his face. He’s panting and his eyes keep rolling back into his head. It’s pathetic.
“Your pain tolerance is worse than a child’s,” I hiss at him, and Ash snickers, but I don’t spare him a glance. I need to make a point with this guy. It’s been too long since I hurt someone for propositioning me, and they’ve forgotten what I can do.
“I won’t fuck you. I won’t fuck anyone at this school, not for a hundred grand.”
“The pot is sitting around the seven hundred grand mark now, Mounty,” Ash drawls. I don’t let the shock show on my face. These fucking wealthy bastards.
“Well, I won’t fuck you for that either, even if mypercentagewas a hundred percent. If you so much as look in my direction again, I willburyyou. Do those rumors make their way up here about us Mountys too? About how easily I can and will kill you for insulting me?”
He’s managed to pull himself together enough to kick back into obnoxious rich-kid mode. “I will report you, and you’ll be out for this, you little cunt.”
I. Hate. That. Word.
My mom’s boyfriends all used to call her that, or me, or they’d tell me all about my mom’s gaping cunt. I was six the first time I realized what they were talking about. It still sends me to a crazy place in my head to hear it uttered.
