“Of course there’s a reason. I registered late and had very few choices, but I had no idea you would be here. The schedule doesn’t list the TA.” I can’t help the hint of venom in my voice.
“So you’re taking this class to impress Mr. Morwen, then.” He laughs.
“You know better than anyone that this class is not enough to impress Mr. Morwen. You teach it, yet you haven’t managed to impress him.”
Bringing up his weird relationship with Lex is the right move, but the wrong way to do it. Right because I wanted to piss him off, and by the look on his face, I just succeeded. Wrong because I’m alone with this creep, and I shouldn’t be messing with him. “You would know all about being a disappointment, wouldn’t you?”
My cheeks burn. There are so very many things he could be referring to, but I don’t feel like having this conversation with him. He isn’t my father or brother, and he doesn’t get an opinion on how I lead my life.
“Why am I here right now, Cillian?” I decide to ask directly, tired of this whole conversation.
“You know, Miss Briarwick, a lot of people at this university think they know your family history. They laugh and talk about you, sure they know you well, but they don’t really, do they?”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “No, not particularly.”
“People gossip a lot around these halls, and it never costs you much, but I would be very careful about the ones who actually do.”
“The Briarwick curse isn’t even real. Who cares what they know?” I ask with a laugh. “My dad is dead, and I’m the only one left.” I shrug.
“Your dad.” He laughs. “Your father wasn’t a particularly memorable man, so why would I be referring to him?”
I freeze, wondering who he could possibly mean then. People in these circles rarely talk about women like they’re important, and his phrasing doesn’t lead me to believe he’s talking about my mother. Plus, how the hell would he know she went here?
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I tell him, but in the back of my mind, I fear that I do.
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. They are filled with pure hatred, and I can’t fathom where that came from. I’ve never seen it before this moment, but it’s clear as day. He doesn’t just hate me. I disgust him.
“You don’t have much of a chance in this class or at this school if everything you just said is true.”
I open and close my mouth, tasting the words before saying them. “Why don’t you explain it to me, then? Nice and slow.”
“Your mother has a legacy at Bellthorn too.”
“What do you know about my mother?” I ask, biting my tongue a moment too late. He wants to dig into my family, prove that he knows more than me. I feel it’s his superiority playing a role, and I refuse to fall for it.
“What do you?” He raises an eyebrow, and the point he’s making is so similar to the one Nina made that my stomach turns with guilt. The days of my living in blissful ignorance are long over.
“Cillian, I don’t know what the guys did to your room, but if you know something about my family, you should just tell me, given they’re all dead and can’t speak for themselves.”
He looks me up and down. “You have no idea what happened to my room?”
“No, I swear. Do you know something about my mother?” I soften my pitch, as if it would mean a whole lot to me if he did.
He blows out a breath like he’s giving up this fight. “Not much, actually.” He rubs his face like he’s tired, and if I didn’t know better, I would believe the act. “As long as you pay attention in this class, we should be fine.” If I weren’t watching so closely, I would miss the wicked glint in his eyes entirely. He’s fucking hiding something. It’s like being given a bunch of puzzle pieces, none of which perfectly match the next.
“Is that all?” I ask.
“Yes.” He nods, moving his intense glare from me. “I have everything I need from you. You can go.”
I turn immediately, absolutely freaked out by our conversation, even more so the false sense of complacency he tried to lure me into at the end. I don’t want to let him see that, though. He wanted to get under my skin, and the best thing I can do is make him think that he failed.
“And Sable?” he calls.
I turn back again to look at him.
“Keep this conversation between us. Lex isn’t in this class, and it’s not up to him whether or not you pass.”
“Yeah, of course,” I lie.
