I’m enjoying the quiet of one particular study nook when Joey slips into the chair beside me. I tense and slip my hand into my blazer pocket to clutch at my knife. There is no one close by. I’m aware that has never stopped Joey in the past, but I’d prefer to never be alone with him again. The images of his maid’s autopsy flash into my mind and focus to keep my breathing even.
“It’s been such a long time since we last spoke, Mounty. I’ve missed you,” he drawls as he flicks my colored pens so they roll around the desk.
“Is there something you want, Beaumont?” I try to keep my tone civil but uninviting. I watch him from the corners of my eyes, assessing just how high he is.
“There are so many things I want, but I’ve just been told I can’t have one of them. Tell me, how is it you know the Jackal? I received a personal phone call from him.”
I shrug and look back down at my notes. I knew this was coming. When I don’t answer he continues.
“I’ve met quite a lot of his, shall we say, associates. I enjoy his products. They’re much more pure than the crap you get out here or in the city. So I do a pickup with my usual supplier, and he tells me his boss needs a word with me. I’m thinking I’m going to get a frequent shopper card or a job offer, and instead I’m given an order. Stay away from one Eclipse Anderson.”
I set my pen down and turn in my chair to look at him. His eyes are clearer than they were in the library, but he is still having trouble tracking. His cheek has a little tick as he talks, and his brow is furrowed like I’m confusing him. I decide it’s safe enough to speak calmly to him.
“He’s a friend of mine. It came up in conversation that you were interested in me, and he was concerned that I’m too young for such a thing, so he told me he would have a friendly chat. That’s all this is.” That is not even close to what this is.
“He told me you belong to him. He told me if even a single Hannaford boy touches your pussy, he’s going to come here and deal with it personally.”
I clench my jaw so the words I want to say don’t come flying out of my mouth. When I have myself under control, I say, “So you’re going to leave me alone, then?”
He tips his head back and laughs.
I can’t stand the manic sound of it, so I grab my books and leave.
Chapter 27
Iarrive to my last tutoring session in the library early and set up the table. I’ve written pages and pages of notes for Blaise’s final math test, and if he nails this one, he’s got the B-plus. He’s still being a dick to me at every opportunity, but I’m letting everything just bounce off me. He can believe whatever he wants about me; I know who I am. Plus, I’m doing all of this so I have a new Vanth album to listen to. I want to know what he’s going to write now that I’ve actually met him. Not that I think I’m going to affect his writing at all, I’m nothing to him, but the rock star Blaise and the Hannaford Blaise still don’t completely gel together in my mind yet.
When neither of the guys arrive on time, I’m pissed. When they’re both twenty minutes late, I’m starting to get worried. Ash always comes to our tutoring sessions, and he’s always on time. There’s a chance they had both been held up in their last class, they shared biology, but there’s also a chance Joey has escalated. I’m about to pack up and leave when Ash walks in, without his bag, and sits down across the table from me.
Something is wrong.
The softness I’d once seen in Ash’s eyes is gone. He’s looking at me the same way he did back when I first started tutoring him and he wanted to get rid of me. I don’t know what’s happened. I feel like we were close to being… friends? Or friendly, at least.
“You know, the very first week we got to Hannaford, I set up a camera to watch Joey’s door. We all try to keep tabs on his movements,” he says without a greeting. “I’ve got footage of you sneaking in, and then back out again, on the day he was arrested for drugs.” He’s glaring at me. This is not what I was expecting at all.
I speak carefully. “So you’re going to tell Joey you have proof it was me, then?”
Ash doesn’t move. He doesn’t lean back in his chair and cross his arms with a cocky grin. He doesn’t lean forward to whisper at me. He doesn’t move an inch as he says, “Joey has told his friends you’re off limits.”
I close my textbook. I should have known this was coming. Matteo had told me he was going to step in now that he knows Joey wants to rape me. Not that Matteo gives a shit about rapists; he just doesn’t want anyone breaking his toys. I feel sick at the thought.
“I’m going to send Trevelen the videos. I’m going to tell him if he doesn’t expel you, I’ll go to my father.”
I look up at him. Ash is staring at me with his face carefully blank. There’s no conflict in his eyes. He’s called me names and laughed at everything that’s happened to me, but he’s never actually tried to get me out. He’s never actively campaigned against me like Avery and Joey have, but I have never doubted that he was capable of doing whatever he deemed necessary to get what he wants.
If he wants me out, then telling his father will make that happen.
Whatever the dirt Matteo has on Trevelen, I doubt it would trump the hell that billionaire Joseph Beaumont Sr could unleash. Plus, the warning from Matteo’s file rings in my head. If Ash tells his father, I will have his attention. I’ve been very careful about the things I’ve done in my life, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be able to uncover something and destroy me. He could also just hire someone to take me out. Diarmuid comes to mind. But there is something I’m missing about the Beaumonts, a piece to this puzzle that I haven’t quite placed yet—but I can feel the answer dancing just out of my grasp. Why do the twins protect him?
“So your brother finally leaves me alone, and you’re just going to take his place? Is there a standard number of fucked-up Beaumonts that must bully me at any one time?” My voice is level even as my heart thuds violently in my chest.
“Joey didn’t just warn them off for his own enjoyment. He told them you were permanently off limits.” I nod. I already know this but it’s nice to have it confirmed. I might start getting some sleep if I didn’t have to worry about being killed during lunch.
“Harley told me you were dangerous, but I didn’t believe him until now. You’re out of this school by Friday.” He moves as if to stand up and leave me. I shoot out a hand and grab him by the wrist, and he freezes. He eyes are the color of a summer storm, seething rage. It makes no sense. I’ve been moving the pieces on the board to get away from this sort of hatred.
“If you’ve chosen to take Joey’s side, then I’m getting you out. I can’t have you sleeping across the hall from Avery.” My fingers loosen a fraction, and he rips his arm out from my grasp. I’m gaping at him; I don’t even try to hide it. He shakes out his arm like he’s trying to shake of the feel of my touch. I’m just Mounty trash to him.
“I would never take Joey’s side. The guy is a serial killer in the making.”
