“I didn’t... I wasn’t implying that you’re—”
“It’s what you thought, isn’t it? Don’t answer that. You can tell my father I’m fine. If he doesn’t think so, he knows where to find me.”
“Of course. I’ll tell him you’re being... sensible. Maybe it’s best if we don’t mention your boyfriend. Charlie has a lot on his mind without worrying about your heart, too. He’s a shadow of the man he used to be and he wouldn’t send you here if he was concerned about any student.”
My insides riot, the anger and resentment replaced by a sudden longing. I swat away the tears pricking my eyes and swallow the lump clogging my throat.
“You’re right, I’m sorry, it’s...”
“Hard,” he finishes for me, scooting close to drape an arm over my shoulders. “I’ll tell you what. Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in. If you ever want to talk, I’ll come down.”
I lean into his embrace, the scent of his cologne vaguely familiar though I can’t remember where I smelled it before.
Probably during those countless boardgame nights he mentioned. My chest tightens again.
I’ve lost so much... things I’m not even aware of, connections I might never rebuild, relationships, parties, first kisses, all the wild nights and the thrill of sneaking around with Alex.
All I’m getting back is the bad stuff and it’s not fair.
It’s not fuckingfair.
29
Carter
Phone in hand, I head toward the parking lot, scrolling through my contacts. If I don’t call Rhett now, he’ll be blowing up my phone by midday.
Before I slide my thumb across the screen, a familiar voice reaches my ears. My head whips up, eyes finding Jensen thirty feet ahead, his keys in hand, a phone to his ear.
Everything about this fucker gets on my nerves. From the way he walks, dragging his feet like a moody five-year-old, to the tone of his voice. Last night replays in my head and I can’t believe I reined in my temper.
I grew up without a father, reason enough to get bullied. The smallest kid in class for years before puberty hit. Poor. So fuckingpoor. I was picked on throughout elementary and middle schools. It sucked, but I learned an important lesson. Or rather, my mother taught me.
Pick your battles. Start with words. Do it again, if they come at you a second time, but... if they push you a third time—forget words.
Hit and hit hard.
I stuck to that rule most of my school life. Say it once, say it twice, but never repeat it a third time. Strike.
Before Rhett whisked me into his world, it was always a three-step. Then, his business made me compromise to a two-step. Now, it’s usually an immediate strike, but at Lakeside, back in an education environment, my mother’s golden rule comes in handy, helps me play the role of an ordinary guy.
Ordinary guys don’t strike immediately, so Jensen got words. Once, twice... and last night, hetouchedmy girl after I specifically told him not to. It was time tohithard, but I didn’t, swallowing the same pill I dished out to Hailey:smarter.
Nailing Jensen in the middle of the dance floor would’ve been anything but smart. Now, he’s alone. I can make good on my promise without any witnesses.
He’s a civilian.
Exactly: nothing more than a nuisance.
“Yeah, man, I’m heading out now. I’m of out condoms,” Jensen yaps into his phone, then laughs at whatever the other person says. “I fucking hope so! Man, that ass isfine.” He cackles again. “I have a plan. Flowers, chocolates, candles—” He pauses, listening as he heads toward his car, parked not far from mine.
A peculiar sense of dread makes me walk faster. He hasn’t mentioned her name, but I’m almost certain he’s talking about Hailey.
“Wine will do the trick. She’s a lightweight; she’ll be stripping after two glasses.” He presses a button on the remote and his BMW beeps twice. “Are you kidding? Fuck Nash, man. He’s all bark and no bite.”
A grenade goes off in my head. No countdown, notick... tick... tick, no warning, just an instant blast. I jump forward, whacking the back of Jensen’s head, my signet tearing through skin. He yelps going down, his phone falling to crack on the tarmac.
“No bite, huh?” I clip, using my boot to flip him onto his back. “You’ve had more chances than any other—” I stop talking, seeing his closed eyes and unresponsive body.
