Page 2 of Ruthless Deliverance

Standing, I’m almost in the clear when he calls my name. Slowly, I glance back over my shoulder to him as I try to keep my breath steady when I see his grin. “Stop by anytime you need a break from the lion’s den.”

I’m guessing he meant it in a nice way, being that the school mascot is a lion. But something about his offer rubs me the wrong way, like he knows this school is all kinds of fucked up. And if that’s the case, he is probably part of the problem.

Hurrying out of Mr. Chipper Creep’s office, I keep my eyes on the paper with the schedule I’ve already memorized and make my way out of the front office. When I step into the empty corridor, relief hits me out of nowhere. Even if it’s only for a moment, I’m alone. No pretending. No putting on a show. Just a moment to breathe. And that’s what I do, closing my eyes, my back presses against the cold metal locker, my head dropping back. Even with the momentary relief, the question repeats. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

There’s no point in actually contemplating the question longer than a few seconds, because I already know the answer. Though I can’t accept it just yet, I know I’m in deep, utter shit—that’s what I’ve gotten myself into. And there’s no way I’ll escape this unscathed, but I can at least try to remain somewhat intact.

Shoving off the locker, I head to my first class and reach the doorway way too soon. English lit with Mr. Garbo. It’s no more appealing now than it was the first go-round. And the instructor seems just as disappointed by my presence as I am to be here. His beady eyes look over the rim of his glasses, meeting mine as he remains silent for a beat before dropping his judgy mug back to his desk. “First day. First class. And late. Yes. Good plan. Start the year off with low expectations so there’s nothing to live up to.” He waves a hand towards the desks situated around the classroom. “Take a seat.”

Unsurprisingly, my thoughts fly out of my mouth without hesitation. “Pity. Exceeding your expectations was on the top of my agenda this morning.” Philip is correct that I have the sullen teenage attitude down, not difficult given the situation. But the situation is exactly why I need to fly under the radar for the time being. At least until I get some solid footing. Or at least a grasp on the assignment. And I have a feeling that assignment will be easier than acing this class. With the teacher’s full attention on me as I take a seat in the back of the classroom, he asks, “And whom, might I ask, do we have the pleasure of having in our presence?”

Fucker. “Dani Graham.”

Mr. Garbo’s attention moves to the computer monitor on his desk before he nods and turns his attention back to me. “Well, Danica. If you’re done interrupting my class with your late arrival, I’d like to proceed with what’s on my agenda this splendid morning.”

A few snickers sound around the room as I remain in a stare down with Instructor Asshat until a whistle pulls my attention to the right of the classroom. “I’d like Dani Graham to be on the agenda a little longer.” The jock adds a tongue flick that I’m assuming he thinks is sexy or alluring in some way. But it only makes me want to vomit on his identical uniform—well, identical blazer, shirt, and tie because of course his came with a pair of pants.

“Has that ever worked?” I ask, the snickers around the room grow louder as I hold my hand up, waving it in the air. “Like ever?” God, I can’t imagine that it does, and the sly grin that turns into a sneer clues me in that it doesn’t have the desired effect the majority of the time.

His arrogance soon returns in full swing as he runs his fingers through his slicked back hair. “I’ve had no complaints.” Another trademark tongue flick. Deciding to go all out, he also offers me a nauseating wink on top of it.

“Doubt you’d listen even if you had any complaints.”

Maintaining his dickish ways, he leans back in his desk, nodding at me. “Come take a ride on the Beau coaster and find out for yourself.”

“That’s enough, Mr. Reid.” Mr. Garbo attempts to rein in the shithead who doesn’t look like he plans on stopping anytime soon.

“Kiddie rides aren’t my thing.” My blunt reply is enough to finally completely remove the smirk from his face as he pushes to stand from his seat. My fingers curl into a fist, anticipating this asshat actually approaching me, but he suddenly halts mid-stance. His harsh gawk stays on me before he awkwardly sits back down. His eyes only leave mine long enough to look to the sandy blond guy next to him who has leaned in his direction, apparently summoning the magic words to shut down the dipshit carnival. Beau stiffly turns his eyes to the front of the classroom where Mr. Garbo rambles on about us shutting up and letting him teach.

And I intend to turn my focus to him until Beau’s ringmaster turns to look my way, his intense icy blue eyes freeze me in his watch. As opposed to his dark haired, overly self-assured buddy, this one looks like he possibly lives up to whatever game he talks. He’s an enticing dream, a perfect sculpture come to life. The way he holds me in his stare, I know he’s gotta be nothing but a fucking nightmare. He and his perfectly carved jawline can fuck off.

“You’re as great as making friends as I am.” An annoyed voice sounds from my left. Finally breaking away from Icy Blues, I look to find the source. Her annoyed expression matches her tone, and she gives the two dicks (I’m assuming with Icy Blues) a look of disgust before turning her gaze back to me. “But trust me, you’re not missing out on anything where Beau is concerned. He’s all bark and no bite.” Her expression doesn’t change, but she leans in, uttering, “Creed, though … you’ll want to steer clear of him.”

“And who is Creed?” I already know exactly who she’s referring to, but this is how I should play my role, right?

“The guy next to Beau who’s eye fucking you.”

Yes. His look was intense, but I didn’t get any hint of eye fucking. It felt more like an invasive assessment holding me hostage. And when I glance back to my right, I find the same gaze still keeping me on lockdown. Fuck. This is not me being discreet. At all. I give him a good old annoyed-teenager eye roll and look back to the girl who sports full-on combat boots, chipped black nail polish, holes in her fishnet stockings, topped off with jet-black hair accented with purple highlights. She seems more approachable than anyone else.

“Noted.” I pull out a notebook, plopping it on my desk. Creed. “Who names their kid after a school?”

She leans over, her voice just above a whisper. “The academy is named after him. Creed Kincaid III. Well, more like named after his family.” She glances over my shoulder. Her expression is tight, but I can’t tell if it’s anger or something else. “They own the school. And the pretentious bastards think they own everyone in it.”

Son of a bitch. There’s no way to completely hide my shock as I glance to him, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of his lip like he’s glad he’s caught me by surprise. Only he didn’t. The fact that I won’t be able to avoid him is what has caught me off guard.

Fuck. I take it back. Acing Mr. Garbo’s class will be a walk in the park compared to my actual assignment. Digging into the dark secrets of Sacred Creed Academy. And if Creed’s family built the school, that very well includes the secrets of his family—not to mention his own.

2

CREED

She hasn’t been out of my sight since she entered the school café. And every so often, her eyes find me. It’s a quick glance before hurriedly looking away. I’m not gathering anything resembling fear from her; it’s more like dread. And all she’s doing is inciting my curiosity with each glance. Even more so when she leans over to whisper to Luna who shakes her head, grimaces at me, then strikes up a conversation.

“What’s the plan?” Beau knocks against the table, a look of sheer hatred aimed at the one person who wouldn’t deal with his shit and had no hesitation in telling him so. And I’d be lying if I said that fact hadn’t drawn my attention to her. Now I can’t decide if I want to tame her or conquer her, or both.

“Plan for what?”

“You know what. New bitch. The same one who you’ve been watching all day and has now BFF’d your fave goth bitch.”