Ava huffs out a breath, uncrossing her arms. “What’s with all the secrets?”
A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth. “That’s kinda the point of asecretsociety, babe.”
She frowns back at me, clearly unimpressed. “How far does all of this go?”
“Further than you can imagine,” I mutter, dragging a hand down my face. “The Invictus predates the founding of this country. Its origins trace back to Europe centuries ago. Over time, it spread– across cities, governments, corporations. Its influence reaches farther than anyone can even fathom.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “So it’s everywhere.”
“More or less.”
“Who’s all involved?” she presses. “And who’s in charge?”
“You’ll learn more after you’re initiated,” I reply, closing the textbook in front of me with a soft thud. “That’s enough questions for today.”
She holds my gaze for a few more seconds, clearly dissatisfied with how many of them I deflected. At least I answered the few I could. It’s more than Raf or Ford would’ve given– you’d think she’d be grateful that I’m at least trying to help her out here.
She doesn’t thank me. Doesn’t even give me a smile. Instead, she just picks up her pencil and goes back to studying, as if she didn’t just ask me to lay the entire world at her feet.
“Are you ever gonna stop punishing me?” I blurt, frustration bubbling over.
“For what?” she asks, not even looking up.
I grind my molars, considering what it’d cost to actually say the words. “For that day in Stoker Hall.”
Her eyes flicker up to meet mine. “If you think I’m punishing you, that implies you’re feeling guilty,” she replies dryly. “I wasn’t aware you possessed that emotion.”
I bristle, heat rising up my neck. “What do you want?” I demand, the words coming out sharper than intended. “An apology?”
Something shifts in her eyes– a peek at the old Ava, the one who used to cry rather than fight back. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, her delicate throat bobbing with a swallow. “That’d be a start.”
My jaw tightens, hands curling into fists atop the table. “Fine,” I grit out, knowing full well what this’ll cost me and pushing forward nonetheless. “I’m sorry, okay? Now can we stop with the cold shoulder, put this behind us? Will you sleep in my bed tonight?”
“Ford already asked me to sleep in his,” she replies curtly, sweeping her pages of notes into a neat little stack.
My jaw snaps shut. A cold, sharp feeling slices through my gut as I glare at her, then at the wall behind her, then at my hands.
“I appreciate the apology, but it’ll take more than a few empty words to make up for the hell you guys put me through since I got here,” Ava says as she packs up her things, shoving them into her backpack.
“Like what?” I ask, lifting my gaze as she rises to stand across from me.
“You’re a big boy, Wes,” she replies, slinging her backpack over a shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
She turns away, striding toward the door. “See you back at the apartment,” she calls out before disappearing through it.
I should probably ask where she’s going and insist on escorting her through campus. Instead, I just let her walk out, leaving me stewing in my own frustration.
CHAPTER 12
AVA
The echoof my footsteps is the only sound in the corridor as I make my way to Bryce’s dorm room on the second floor of Sutton Hall. I’m clutching the strap of my backpack so tightly my fingers ache, the black nylon digging a groove into my palm. I tried to shake off my conversation with Wes on the walk over here, but his placating ‘You’re safe, Ava’sticks in my ear like a parasite.
As if I could ever be safe with the Kings.
I hesitate outside Bryce’s door, then draw a deep breath before rapping my knuckles against the wood.
“One second!” his voice calls from inside, followed by a series of shuffles and clatters. A minute later, the lock disengages, and the door cracks open just wide enough for his head to poke through. His platinum hair is a mess atop his head, red-rimmed eyes squinting against the fluorescent hallway lights.
