“Is our practice room a hotel now?”
“Shut up, Zane.”
“I’m just saying. Who’s the one who said we don’t bring girls in here?”
“She’s not just a girl to him. Obviously.”
“Finn has a point.”
“Keep your voices down. If you wake her, I’ll rearrange your teeth.”
Groggily, I open my eyes. At first, there’s a blast of sunlight. And then three faces too beautiful for this earth crowd over me.
For a second, I wonder if I’m looking at angels.
But that’s not right.
Angels wouldn’t have tattoos. Or muscles. Or flickers of darkness shadowing their eyes.
I blink and Redwood Prep jackets come into focus.
Blink again.
Spy the guitars, drums and sound-dampening wall panels.
I stiffen.
I’m in The Kings’ practice room.
I’m with The Kings.
I was sleeping, limp and defenseless, while four giant boys—three of whom did their part in torturing me for weeks—had full access to me. Self-preservation kicks in and I whip to a sitting position, my eyes dropping to my clothes.
I’m still wearing my blue shirt with the bow at the neck. My skirt is still on. So are my panties.
Despite knowing I’m fully dressed, my heart races.
It’s not like any of these boys are saints.
Not even Dutch.
Especially Dutch.
Zane offers me a bottle of water and I frown at it. He arches a brow. “Would you like a beer instead?”
I take the bottle he offers, my fingers trembling.
Dutch’s twin gestures to the sofa. “You snore.”
“I do not,” I snap, my face flushing.
“He’s kidding,” Sol says, folding his arms over his chest. “You didn’t snore, but you looked really tired. And worried. Even in your sleep.”
Finn nods. “That’s true.”
Dutch is the only one who says nothing. He leans against the wall, watching me intently. He’s not explaining my presence at all. Probably because he wants to see how I’ll handle myself. A king throwing a gladiator into the ring and waiting to be entertained.
I scowl at him and scoot to the edge of the sofa.
They all watch me as if I’m a curious animal who wandered in during a rainstorm. I can’t help but shudder under their heavy gazes.
Predators.
That’s what they remind me of. A pack of lions, all strong, glorious and capable of killing for a meal.
The thing is, I’m no one’s freaking dinner.
“Did you guys like how I redecorated the place?” I gesture to the trophy case and the empty space where the coffee table should have been.
Finn smirks.
Zane shakes his head. “You really are fearless, aren’t you?”
Dutch watches me with those honey eyes of his. From this distance, it’s hard to see the golden flecks that swim in their depths. But I know they’re there.
I glance away and twist the cap of my water. I’m thirsty.
“She’s the one who trashed the place?” Sol asks, his voice climbing in surprise.
“They didn’t tell you?” I set the bottle down and tilt my chin up. “I cut the strings on Dutch’s guitar.”
Sol doesn’t respond, but his eyes dart immediately to Dutch.
Zane laughs. “Damn it, Cadence. You really want to fight.”
“At this point, you don’t scare me.” I glance at him and then at Finn. “What more can you boys possibly do to me that you haven’t already?”
“A lot,” Dutch says finally, straightening away from the wall. “There’s a lot we haven’t done to you, Cadey.”
A shiver goes down my spine when he flashes a sharp look in my direction. I wonder if I imagined the Dutch who held me tenderly and whispered that I could rest with him. Did I dream it? Were those pancakes drugged?
Wait, but I didn’t eat anything.
So what happened? Why does Dutch look so intense now?
He drags a chair away from the table, drops it in front of the couch and takes a seat like a king on his throne. He leans forward, full of confidence.
I scowl at his lofty expression. Even more annoying is the fact that his arrogance is earned. He’s a guy who can summon a private cleaning team at will and bend the arm of the principal to get me out of work service. Power. Near unlimited power. He can have whatever he wants—so why does he insist on torturing me?
My nails dig into my skirt.
“Start talking.” Dutch drops his feet to the floor and leans his elbows on his knees. All he needs is a cigar dangling from his lips and he would pass for a gangster. Easily.
I glare at him. Open my mouth. “Who the hell do you think—”
“You said I don’t know what you’re dealing with. So give me a list.” He gestures to his brothers. “We’ll tackle them one at a time.”
Zane nods at me.
Finn just folds his arms over his chest.
My brows tighten in confusion. What’s the trick? Does he really expect me to believe that they’ll help me?
Dutch frowns impatiently.
I glare at him. “First on the list… is getting you to leave me the hell alone.”
“Not happening. Next.” He flicks his fingers.
I scowl.
He waits, his face a cryptic mask.
I realize he’s not going to let me leave until I name something. What should I say? I can’t tell Dutch that I’m planning on working with his dad to get Jinx’s information. If I jeopardize my agreement with her, Serena will never survive.
“We’re waiting, Brahms,” Dutch says, tilting his head to one side. Sunlight falls over his golden hair. His tongue slides across his bottom lip. “Don’t make us wait long.”
I’m pretty sure he’s used that tone on me before. Right before he sent my favorite teacher, Mr. Mulliez, packing.
My heart thunders.
“Serena,” I blurt, hating that I’m trapped. Hating that a part of me is willing to put hope in these dangerous, reckless boys. If I could, I’d set them on fire. All of them. Except Sol.
Or maybe I’d throw him in the flames too.
For the sin of being Dutch Cross’s friend.
“I want her name cleared. I want her back in Redwood.”
“Okay—”
“And I want the real culprit caught. I want him to bleed. I want him burned at the freaking stake.”
Sol goes pale.
Finn scowls at me.
Zane glances away.
Dutch’s eyes flash to mine, less amber, more black. Two endless pits of shadows.
When he speaks, his words are gritty. “We’ll find a way.”
Sol whips a sharp look over at Dutch.
I nod and rise to my feet.
Dutch stops me with a raised hand. “Is that it?”
“Get that done first.” I sling my purse over my shoulder. “Then I’ll tell you the rest.”
His mouth twists into a hard line.
I don’t care. I’m not depending on him to fix anything for me, but if he wants to use his evil for good this time, I’m not going to stop him.
Musical chimes ring faintly.
How long was I asleep? It’s already time for class.
My eyes slide over Dutch and land on Sol. “You coming?”
“Where?”
“Algebra.” I nod at The Kings. “I don’t expect them to actually care about their education.”
Zane chuckles and falls into the couch, right in the place where I was sleeping. “You really didn’t tame her well enough, Dutch.”
My fingers coil into fists. I’d punch him if not for the bell chiming again.
“Am I free to go or do you want me to lie back down so you can creepily watch me while I sleep?” I arch an eyebrow in challenge.
Finn looks amused. He withdraws from us and settles into the nook with a tablet balanced on his knee.
“You can go,” Dutch says.
I flounce past in a whirl of sleep-tussled hair and plaid, only to be snatched around the arm by Dutch. He shoves me into the wall near the trophy case and puts a hand next to my face, leaning in.
“Sit with us at lunch.”
“Get your hands off me,” I growl.
He doesn’t flinch. “If you make me look all over this school for you, Cadey, you won’t like what happens when I find you.” He covers me with his form, his hard chest brushing against the buttons on my shirt. “I’ll see you at lunch.”
My body arches into him, seeking him out like he’s my own personal drug.
I’m repulsed by the instant and desperate ache that forms between my legs.
Dutch grips my chin. “Got it?”
I yank my face out of his grasp.
He must take that as confirmation because he steps back and gestures for Sol to open the door.
I huff and stalk out, hearing Zane’s twisted laughter flowing behind me.
“How are you friends with them?” I grind out, my steps quick—not because I’m in a hurry to get to class but because I’m so pissed off. “They’re animals.”
Sol joins me. His tone is contemplative. “You seem different.”
“What do you mean?” I’m still upset so the words are hurled like an accusation.
He watches me with eyes that are sadder and darker than they were before.
Annoyed, I turn the corner.
Maybe I am different.
A lot has happened since Sol returned to Redwood. Life hammered me from all sides and broke me. Made the rough edges sharper. Made the softness inside dissolve. I’m colder now. Stronger. The last shred of my innocence was torn away by my worst enemy and now there’s nothing tying me to the childish, hopeful version of me.
Besides, the stakes are way higher now than they were before.
Four high school boys with power and cruelty don’t scare me as much as what mom could do to me and Vi.
Sol slips a hand into his pocket and stops in the middle of the hallway.
I stop too and look back at him. He’s staring at me, storm clouds gathering behind his dark irises.
My fingers tighten on my purse strap, but I don’t cower.
Sol was born on the south side.
He knows that life, even if he hangs with pricks like The Kings now.
He’s more like me than he is like them.
I draw near to him, no longer worried about class. The hallways are completely empty and the thud of my sneakers against the ground is loud.
“Is everything okay with you, Sol?” I frown at him. “You said you had something to tell me.”
“I did.”
I search his eyes.
He remains quiet.
“You can say it. Whatever it is, I won’t judge you,” I whisper gently. “We’re friends, right? People like us… we stick together.”
His lips arch up, but it’s not a smile. It’s too empty. Too broken. “We stick together.”
“Come on.” I grab his arm and tug. “Let’s get to class before our ‘tardy’ turns into an ‘absent’.”
“Actually, I don’t think I’ll go to class today.”
My eyes widen. “Why not?”
“I’ll catch you later, Cadence.”
As Sol walks away, a foreboding feeling scratches at my chest. What was he going to tell me? And why does it feel like his secrets are as black as all the others here at Redwood?
Jinx: Is Prince Charming Willing To Share?
Candles, flowers, and a gourmet breakfast were found dumped in the trash after Prince Charming failed to woo his very angry Cinderella. I guess private dinners aren’t enough to convince Cinderella to take our Prince’s hand.
But dry your tears, Prince Charming. You’ll need to keep your eyes wide open. You’re not the only one interested in popping Cinderella’s pumpkin. There are plenty of contenders in the kingdom. And just like mice can turn into footmen, friends can turn into enemies.
Until the next post, keep your enemies close and your secrets even closer.
– Jinx
