I blink. What a dumb thing to say.
“Yes, you did. That’s why you said, hello.”
The boy chuckles, crossing his arms, and I frown as I recognize the cocky grin on his pale and freckled face—Deacon, and peering out from his shadow, Covington.
“Hi, Covington,” I greet him. “Did your books dry all right?”
Covington blanches, unable to meet my eyes, and Deacon passes him an impatient glare as he sputters out, “Oh, uh…H-hi, Iris. Yes. They’re fine.”
“Do you need something?” Dame asks, tipping the last remnants of the bag into his mouth.
“No,” Deacon responds, a little too quickly. But Covington elbows him in the side, and he coughs as he corrects himself. “I mean, yes. I just-I wanted to apologize. To Ashbourne. For the other night. I shouldn’t have?—”
I cut him off.
“Great. Apology not accepted.”
Deacon’s head jerks back.
“What?”
“I’m not interested in your apology,” I say simply. “You can go now.”
I wave a hand, but Deacon doesn’t move.
It takes him a moment to realize that I’m serious. And when he does, he stands there for a few breaths longer, too shocked to move. Or maybe he’s angry, I’m not sure.
I can hear him grinding his teeth, but the taste of his ever-present lust only grows stronger.
He looks to Dame for confirmation, but Dame only shrugs and mumbles around a mouthful of crumbs.
“Better get out of her face before you make her mad,” Dame says.
With Covington tugging him out of the room, Deacon makes his retreat, crossing paths with Elliot on the way out. Deacon and Covington duck their heads as low as they can manage before scurrying down the hall.
“What was that?” Elliot asks.
In response, I hold out my hand, palm up.
“Ugh!” He groans. “Those two idiots. I should’ve just killed them last weekend. Could’ve saved myself some money.”
I smile as he shuffles through his pockets, looking for his wallet, and when he lays the 50 drac in my hand, I can’t help but utter a single, “Told you so.”
I shove the bills in my bra, as Dame and Kitty laugh, and Elliot pulls me from between the cushions.
“What did he want?” he asks, throwing his arm around my shoulders.
“He apologized.”
“And?”
I shrug.
“And I told him to fuck off.”
“That’s my girl,” he says, tail wagging.
He presses a kiss to my temple as he crushes me close, and I resist the urge to shrug him off on account of Kitty and Dame sitting two feet away. But that doesn’t stop me from muttering a reminder under my breath as he ushers me from the room.
