“Somewhere underneath the good-girl facade is a wild bitch waiting to emerge,” Clara whispers, taking notice of my rolling thoughts.
I roll my eyes and start changing. Clara pops her lips, applying a deep shade of pink to her pouty little Cupid’s bow. I inspect the corset, holding it out in front of me. How the heck does this thing even go on? I wrinkle my nose at the same time Clara rolls her eyes and sails around behind me, plucking it from my grasp.
“Like this,” she instructs, fastening it around my waist. My boobs spill over the top, threatening to burst free. I shield my healing bite marks from her view. The soft, satin texture hugs my curves, hiding the faint aftermath of Jax’s attack.
She takes her time tying it. I brace myself against my vanity. I still can’t get used to the image of me in clothes like these. I apply some light mascara and lip gloss while Clara changes into a tight dress, then I shrug on my cute leather jacket and Docs.
***
Flurries fall and land on my jacket before melting into a wet blob. We shuffle across campus, through the slew of people leaving their Friday classes. With the weekend upon us, everyone is out to party and have a good time.
We cross to the back of the Scribe Building as a shortcut, then push through the metal door to get out of the elements. Even if it’s only for a few minutes, the warmth is welcome.
“If it helps alleviate your worry, Jax hasn’t been seen in days,” Clara says, turning to me. The school has already started hanging up Christmas decorations. Cute little trees with black bulbs and fake snow decorate the foyer. Dark lights are strung up over the ledges and winding staircases. We pass through the building, exiting out the other side.
I shrug. “Zain put the fear of God in him.” I shrug. I should be thanking him, but staying away is smarter. I don’t belong to their lifestyle. It’s been easier to swallow down the pull I have towards him when he’s been absent from my life.
She smirks. “Speaking of Zain…” She giggles and tilts her head towards the wall. There stands Zain, leaning against the stone, looking absolutely appetizing in a pair of low-hung black sweatpants and matching hoodie.
I freeze, my insides turn to fire, and that strange pull erupts from my stomach and knots in my throat.
“You should thank him,” she nudges my side gently, but I refuse to dislodge from my spot. My boots are tacked to the ground. As usual, I can’t tell if he sees me or not. His eyes are obscured thanks to his dark, scraggly mop. His hood is pulled low over his face. Strangely, it feels like we have an invisible tether that tangles us together. The moment he tips his head up, I can feel his heated gaze on me. My entire body pricks with awareness. It’s as if I sense him.
“Do you want me to wait?” she asks.
I muster up the courage to shake my head. “Go ahead,” I say meekly.She nods. “Call me if you need anything. Don’t worry about me. I’m not taking anything tonight. Not with finals so close,” she assures me. The sound of heels slapping the pavement recedes, and before I know it, my feet are carrying me to Zain. As soon as I approach, he cracks a half smirk, half scowl. I can never tell with him. “Hi,” I say weakly, cranking my neck up. I twiddle with my fingers, rubbing my hands along the borrowed leather pants.
The familiar scent of vanilla and cigarettes cling to the air around him. His hands are jammed into his hoodie. His hands move slowly, like he’s toying with something.
“I never got a chance to say thanks.” I swallow thickly, remembering his dark words after he rescued me. The memory is embedded so deep inside my brain at this point.
Not today, songbird. When you want it, you’ll beg me for it.
His tongue runs over his teeth. “He won’t bother you anymore,” he says simply. I blink a few times, processing his words. What does he mean?
He lets out a cruel laugh at my confusion. “Let’s just say he’ll remember not to fuck with you.”
I take a subtle step back. He matches it, stepping forward and pushing off from the stone wall, crowding my space.
He tilts his head and pulls his hood back so I can get a good look at his face. It’s like an offering. He threads both hands through his midnight mane. “What’s the matter, songbird? Scared of me?”
Yes. “No,” I squeak out, eyes trained on his features. His sharp jawline and angular face. Sinister and unnerving but sinfully gorgeous. Like Clara, he’s also broken. The endless void of nothingness in his eyes makes me pity him.
He must read me like a book because he lets his hair fall back over his face.
I purse my cherry lips and look in the direction Clara disappeared to. “I should go.” I turn on my boots, hoping to evade him. I couldn’t be so lucky. Before I take a single step, his tattooed hand clasps over my arm. His dark black ring digs into my skin.
His grip is forceful, claiming. My back slams into his chest. That scent takes me over again, hijacking my senses. I close my eyes. His knuckles sweep down my arms, sending my mind reeling. No one has ever made me feel this way, so why him?
“Not alone,” he whispers into my ear darkly, twirling a stray strand of my hair. “Wouldn’t want to get hurt, would you?”
It should be soothing, assuring, but instead it feels like a warning. I must have a taste for danger, because I don’t pull away. For some reason, being in the arms of an unstable bad boy makes me feel as safe as I’ve ever been.
“Zain,” I breathe. My words come out in a broken heady moan.
I feel his chest undulating against me. His hot breath roves over my neck and I’m a hair away from unraveling. His hard body looms behind me. It’s a false sense of security.
“Vesper.” His voice comes out rough and deepens to an ominous pitch, as if he’s testing my name on his tongue.
