Page 32 of The Honor Society

He didn’t kill me before but before I had no idea what he was, now I do. Now I know why he was almost amused with me. He held all the cards and thought it was funny that I even tried to argue that I had an ace behind my back.

Idiot.

“Miss me?” He crosses his arms and tilts his head.

“Terribly.” I try to sound bored. “Should I thank you for saving my life or would I be wasting my breath since you’re probably going to take it…Proctor.”

His arms slowly unfold as he leans forward, one gloved finger tilts my chin towards him. “Say it again.”

“Say what?”

“My name. Proctor.”

I swallow. “Proctor.”

“A woman saying a man’s name like that might just bring him to his knees at the most inopportune time for say someone fortunate enough not to be tied to a chair.” He circles me until he’s right behind me and then both gloved hands move to my neck.

I immediately tense.

“So small, pretty, frail,” His fingers release then slide down to my shoulders, the tips of them dancing along my collarbone. What the hell? My body instantly heats.

No. This is wrong. All of this is wrong and yet, his touch isn’t repulsive, instead the weight of his hands feels familiar.

Why?

Those same fingertips suddenly leave.

A chill washes over me at the loss of his heat.

And then the ropes loosen around my hands and I’m suddenly getting picked up out of the chair. The Proctor doesn’t ask if I can walk, he doesn’t ask if it’s okay to touch me, he just does. His side profile is strong masculine, I can barely make out the color of his hair even then it’s so dark in the warehouse or wherever I am that I can’t see many details.

“Keep staring at me like that and I’ll take it as an invitation, Charlie.”

I jerk my head away. “I was just curious who you were.”

“Unfortunate. I thought you wanted to kiss me.”

I go very still in his arms. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Shall I kill him for you and eliminate my competition?”

“No!” I yell. “No, he’s, I, he’s,” pathetic. “He’s not important. You don’t want him. He doesn’t know anything, all he had was The Dean’s List, and all I know is Jude's mother gave it to him because he’s literally the person you would suspect the least. It was safe. Until⁠—”

“—Until you shot him?” He chuckles. “Ah, I do love a violent lovers quarrel. Blood always makes things more interesting don’t you think?”

“Where are you taking me?”

“To my lair so I can fuck you.”

I gasp.

“I’m kidding, my lair is way better than this. I’m not going to ravish you, we aren’t in a spy novel, Charlie.”

He’s teasing me.

Why the hell am I smiling?

And why does he remind me of Axel? That’s so something he would say to get me to stop freaking out. God, I miss him. I really don’t want to die.