Each time they threaten me, I will take it out on Kalen; everyone has a weakness. People learn fast when you exploit that.
My handy knife is returned to my grasp and pressed tightly against Kalen’s throat.
“I wonder if the girls will still find you so pretty if you’re cut up a little?”
I move so that blade knicks his cheek, a surface wound at best. The scaring will be minimal but his pretty face will bear a permanent mark.
“You think my face is my best asset, aww, I’m flattered.”
I lean in and whisper in his ear, “I know better, it’s the hair.” Kalen fights under his restraints, but I wind his hair in my hand and draw my blade beneath, a swift flick of the wrist and he has a haircut made for a man.
“I won’t be too hasty with you though, I actually think you care about her. I know you think you love her, but a real man wouldn’t bow down to other men, if it puts the girl he loves at risk. Men should be their protectors, not their fucking predators. Amelie is not your fucking prey. Remember that.”
I decide that’s enough talking. A few love taps isn’t enough. They need to realise my message is serious.
It’s time to leave some damage on three of them, the twins and Kalen can explain away some bruises. For Sawyer, the pain of watching his brothers should suffice.
Blow after blow rains down and I blank out. I’m sure some shrink mentioned this being a problem once or twice before. But by the time I’m done, blood paints everything in sight: them, the floor, me. It’s a sight I’m familiar with, but this may just be my favourite work of art yet. A mural in Amelie's honour.
Sawyer has managed to knock his chair to the ground. I move to him and squat so he can hear what I have to say.
“Clean your brothers up, keep your mouths shut. I’m the least of your worries when it comes to her. You think your family has reach? You have no idea about her. And if you so much as fuck with her emotions anymore, let alone actually fucking touch her, I won’t be the one paying you a visit next time.”
He doesn’t say anything, he just nods in defeat, realising I hold all the power here. Standing, I deal him a swift kick to the ribs, enough to incapacitate him whilst I get away.
I owe him a solid from a year ago, cutting him free, I make it known we are now even.
Leaving the bunker, I pull a burner phone from my pocket, dialling the number I was instructed to.
“It’s done,” I say before snapping the old flip phone in half and throwing the bits in opposite directions. I look down at myself and realise that Ireallyneed a shower. It can wait though, I decide. First, I have other fish to fry and the blood will certainly make a statement.
Chapter Thirty-One
Amelie
Saturday morning, crack of dawn, sees me leaving my room for the first time all week. I’m dressed in my workout gear, needing to run before my detention starts. After being sent to my dorm Monday morning and being told to stay there all day, I cried myself to sleep. I woke up later that afternoon with a killer migraine which seems to have brought on a full-blown cold. I knew it was only a matter of time before the dismal weather in this godforsaken country made me ill. Elsie has visited me all week, bringing me schoolwork and meals, homework and gossip. The Knox boys have not. I guess that says it all. They really were fucking with me. I refused to ask her about them, and she refused to mention them. So we danced around the elephant in the room.
I begin stretching when I reach the oval, the first one here. I’ve even beat Onyx to his run, unless he's changed his schedule to avoid me. I try not to care, and start running.
By the time I’m done, my legs are jelly. I hobble over to where the other students in detention are gathered.
“Amelie, you’re late,” Sawyer snaps, even though at the start of the week he was kissing me. Even though I’m clearly not late, I just got started before everyone else. “Right, guys, start running. When you hear my whistle, return… Amelie, Slate, you sit this one out. Off you go!”
“Sir, I can run!” I tell him. I don’t want special treatment, I don’t want to be singled out.
“No. You’ve done enough today,” he tells me softly, meeting my gaze when everyone has gone. “You can barely stand.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can run,” I insist. Truthfully, I can’t. I have no idea why I’m pushing this so hard. It’s stupid.
“Sit down, Amelie, before you fall down. I’m going to keep an eye on them. We have a few characters in detention today. Slate? Watch her and make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.”
I glance up to see Slate scowling at his brother, clearly not happy at being stuck with me either. Sawyer disappears and Slate refuses to meet my eye for several minutes, so I drop to the floor to recover. I lay on my back, arm flung over my eyes, shutting out the world.
“Heard what you did,” Slate says after a moment. His voice is distant, but not as cold as it was towards me in the past. He sounds as unhappy as I feel.
“Yeah, and?”
“You’re stupid if you think my dad would keep anything of value in a school full of criminals.”
