That’s it. Not even a goddamn hello. Just another one of his orders like I’m supposed to drop everything and come running because the Grand High Asshole of SKU wants a meeting.
It takes everything in me not to tell him to eat shit. My fingers even hover over the reply button, but what comes out is the complete opposite.
Kane:All right.
Nearly an hour later, I enter the reception area, letting the door swing shut behind me. I slow in front of the office door and reach for the knob as it’s instantly yanked open. I’m nearly run over by someone. She freezes, eyes wide, skin drained of life, with something between panic and shame tightening her whole frame.
“Excuse me.” She pushes past me, her eyes downcast as she sprints away.
Gracie?
I watch as she races for the exit. She’s a mess, eyes red,shoulders curled inward like she’s trying to disappear into herself.
What the hell?
I glance toward my father’s door. If he’s not being an asshole to everyone he comes in contact with, then the world is sure as shit coming to an end. But it is strange that he’s meeting students so late in the night.
I hear his voice through the cracked opening. It’s low and sharp as steel.
“I don’t know what she was looking for, but I don’t care. Make sure there’s nothing to be found.”
He ends the call as I step into the room. We make eye contact, and for the first time that permanent snarl of his isn’t meant for me but for whoever is on the other end of the line.
“Have a seat.” He gestures to the leather covered chair, but I’m already settling into it before he can finish the statement.
“What’s this about?”
His eyes fall to the laptop on his desk, and his jaw ticks as he sucks in a breath.
I frown at that, a subtle tick in my face as I wonder what’s gotten him so worked up. Whatever he’s looking at has his grip strangling the mouse and his teeth grinding like he’s holding something back.
“Samantha Collins,” he deadpans.
I wince at the mention of her name. Why on earth is he asking me about her?
“What about her?”
With the flick of his wrist, he spins the laptop around. My brows pull tight as I try to register what I’m seeing. Security footage of Sam outside the admin building at night.
But that’s not what perplexes me the most. She’s not alone, andshe’s doing a lot more than sneaking around. Alex is with her, his body pressed into hers, and her mouth on his, back arched, eyes closed like she’s savoring every second of it. He has one hand on her hip, the other laced at the nape of her neck, while mine curls into a fist against my lap. I feel the frown lines cementing in place, disdain bubbling at the back of my throat.
It shouldn’t surprise me. This is Alex we’re talking about—golden boy, campus charmer, always gets what he wants. I just didn’t think Sam would be on that wish list.
And that shouldn’t get to me. I don’t care about Sam, what she does, or who she does it with. But maybe that’s another lie I’ve told myself, right along with the one about not caring about anything. It was working. People looked at me and saw exactly what I wanted them to—the bitter asshole too checked out to feel anything about anyone, someone cold enough to be untouchable.
But no matter how hard I try to keep her at bay, try to ignore her existence, she’s there. She’s everywhere, incessantly getting under my skin, plaguing me at practice, at games, and in my head.
Hell, I can’t even escape her during a meeting with my father. Richard studies me, almost as if he’s waiting for me to react. As if showing me this solves the question of why I’m here. Or answers why seeing them together angers me so much.
“What’s this have to do with me?” I shift in my seat, working overtime to steel my emotions, refusing to let him see that he’s rattled me.
“I know her mother was a patient at the same facility as yours ten years ago. Know that you were friendly with her.”
I flinch, every nerve tingling as numbness rushes through my veins.He’s been watching. All this time.I’ve known for two years that he’s been aware of me, but he wasn’t a parent, never trulygave a damn aside from financially providing for us. Like I’m some experiment left to rot in the corner while he poured all his attention into the golden boy Alex—my brother.
For years he denied us that relationship, kept us so far removed from each other, but close enough to be nothing more than friends. He’s never asked about my mother’s episodes, never called after the emergency admissions. Never visited, not that I really expected that since she was clearly his mistress. But somehow, he knows the year that my life crossed paths with Sam’s.
Is that why she’s here? Was this some meticulous dossier he’s been curating from afar?
