Page 17 of Wicked Titan

“Even if I know something, why would I reveal my hand in middle of the game?” He releases my knee as he steps back, and turning, he strides away. “Stay away from Grant.”

“Why would I listen to the enemy who’s using me for some dumbass game?”

He hesitates for a moment before resuming his confident stride out the door, leaving me alone to make some sense of everything that just happened. The only thing that is certain—rubbing the dog’s ass didn’t help one damn bit.

12

The obnoxious jerk is staring at me from his favorite spot in the courtyard, sitting on the stone wall like it’s his frickin’ throne. If I was smarter, I’d be dealing with the librarian and her snake for lunch. I want to keep my head down to get through the day, but I’ll be damned if I hide away like some coward. The last thing I want is Asher to think I’m running scared. I have a feeling that sensing my fear would make him push harder. And there’s a side of me that fears whatever is locked in his demented mind. Another side just wants to torture him, make him feel half the misery I feel from both his actions and everything else around me that I have no control over.

Studying the textbook in front of me, I see Victoria’s shadow when she resumes her seat at the wooden picnic table.

“You need to stay away from Grant.”

Looking up, I meet Victoria’s gaze. “You too?”

“Yes. You really should stay far away from him.” She pauses for a moment, looking down at the table before her attentive gaze snaps to me. “He’s not a good person.”

“Neither is your brother.” The memory of the darkroom surfaces as I attempt to push it out of my head.

“You’re correct, but Grant is worse.”

“Worse than Asher?” I can’t help but laugh at her choice of words. She is on her brother’s side. “I get that he’s your brother, and I’m sure you heard his version of the story already, but Grant wasn’t doing anything wrong. Elliot and Asher approached us.”

“Please be careful, Quinn.”

Slamming my book closed, I stand. I’m not running away. I’m removing myself from whatever bizarre problem they all have with each other.

“I’ll try to keep that in mind the next time your brother yanks me into a darkroom and gropes my ass.”

A slight blush rises on her cheeks. She might want to believe her brother isn’t worse than Grant, but he’s shown me a side I can’t forget. And trust me, I’m trying my best to forget every side—and feeling—of Asher Hastings.

* * *

Woodshop. I’d signed up for woodshop. No wonder Grant kept asking me if I was sure. Maybe reading one of the damn pamphlets would’ve been beneficial. Then again, after the last hour spent sitting across from Asher in Environmental Science, with Elliot’s noticeably empty chair next to mine, I welcome any class without Asher’s presence.

The smell of pine and burning wood overwhelms my senses. The shop is a far stretch from the other fancy classrooms. Smooth cement floors replace the usual marble tiles and there are basic wooden tables throughout the room. The machinery, on the other hand, looks like the best of the best. Even in its woodshop, this school flaunts that they have more money than your run-of-the-mill public school.

Tossing my bag on the table, I slide onto the cold metal stool. My fingers trace a few indentations in the wood table, smoothing over carved initials and symbols. I wonder if my dad ever took a woodshop class.

“Another tradition.”

My head snaps up to see Grant, sliding onto the stool next to me.

His face. My stomach turns as I study the gash across the bridge of his nose, which peeks out from under a fresh bandage, and his left eye is bruised, nearly swollen shut.

“Every student carves something into the table at the end of the school year.”

Automatically, my hand reaches forward, almost touching his face before I jerk back, realizing what I’m doing. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It looks worse than it feels.”

A voice mocks from across the table, “That’s what all pussies say when they get their ass kicked.”

Wade is sitting across the table from us. When did he get there and how had I not noticed? Ignoring Asher’s ignorant minion, I turn back to Grant.

“I figured you and Elliot were expelled, or at least suspended.”

He chuckles. “Nah, there’s not much you can do at this school to get expelled.”