My fingers clump into fists. Without a care for all the people who are watching, I bang my hand against the door.
All this restless energy gathering in my chest is about to take me out. I want to do something. Throw my hands up. Scream bloody murder.
Anything.
But I can only stand here outside The King’s practice room—half of me out for blood and the other half… I don’t know what that part of me is hoping for.
A crowd forms in the hallway.
I know I’m making a spectacle of myself, but I don’t even care. My arms are jittery with anger. I’m trembling in shock. My body is strained, like someone’s pulling it tight. Tighter still.
I hear angry chords in my head.
E# G Bb
Fueling me on.
Righteous indignation.
It burns every inch of me.
I will not let Dutch ruin someone’s life again. I will not let him take anything else from the people that I care about.
I keep banging on the door until Dutch finally opens.
The moment I see him, my muscles tense. Like me, Dutch’s clothes are covered in soot, but his face is clean, frighteningly handsome.
He’s the picture of cold, ruthless elegance with his blond hair, amber eyes and inked arms. His biceps roll when he folds his hands over his chest. I know those muscles are built from hours of playing guitar and training to maintain his stamina during concerts.
In this moment, he doesn’t look like a high school student. Not with the darkness passing over his face or the shadows living under his soulless eyes.
He looks like a nightmare.
Something deep inside, the part of me that wanted to believe there was good in him, starts to ache.
“You have a death wish?” Dutch asks with an expressionless look.
When he watches me with those eyes of pure golden nonchalance, I feel the scales tipping further into blind rage. After all the ways he’s harassed and tormented me, he really doesn’t care, does he? Everyone is a pawn in his game. A throwaway.
I can’t believe I ever saw him as something redeemable.
I can’t believe I was starting to waver.
I genuinely thought he rescued me from the fire this morning. That maybe, deep down, he really cared about something other than himself.
But I was wrong.
I was wrong to be fooled.
I was wrong to believe that he could be anything better.
My eyes burning, I step right up to him and tilt my head back. For a moment, I see a flicker a frustration pass through his gaze.
But he doesn’t move.
“Did you do this?” I hiss.
His jaw clenches.
Again, he says nothing.
I push him. “Did you?”
He looks down at me. His voice is cold and lashing. “Would you be able to do anything even if I did?”
My heart explodes. Shatters just as hard as the windows this morning.
Dutch did this.
Which means that I did this.
I put Serena in the crosshairs by hanging around her, by being her friend. The people I want to protect are all targets for The Kings, like little bottles in a shooting game at the carnival. Helpless. Something to be discarded and thrown away. Playthings in the hands of the rich rulers of Redwood Prep.
The door widens. Zane and Finn step into my line of sight, close behind Dutch. They all look at me, the three of them. Perfect. Gorgeous. Predators.
But I’m nobody’s freaking prey.
I smile slightly.
A flicker of dismay crosses Dutch’s eyes.
I step closer. Closer. Until my chest brushes his.
“I will make you pay,” I growl.
He says nothing.
I whirl around and stomp out of school. The crowd makes way for me, watching me, filming me.
Screw them.
Screw them all.
I don’t stop until I’m outside and then I keep moving.
The sunshine screams. Heat touches every part of me. Burning me alive. Burning me to ashes.
I stop on the middle of the sidewalk, bend forward and let loose a scream that rattles the foundations of the buildings around me.
I’m so tired. I’m so done with always being on the receiving end of this crap.
I have to do something.
I’m just not sure what yet.
We need evidence. Miss Jamieson’s words linger in my head.
Although I’m dying inside, I force myself to go back to Redwood and attend class. Maybe I can talk to the security guards again and get more information that’ll help free Serena.
It’s impossible to focus on my lessons. The teachers’ words flow right past my head.
When I walk into the hallway later and see Dutch, my anger burns again. He looks totally normal after obliterating someone’s world.
My skin bristles. I crave his anger, his pain. But he doesn’t look at me. He only walks past me. Not saying a word. Pretending I’m not there.
I want to lodge myself in his path and punch him in the face, but I know his brothers will stop me.
Sol is with them. He gives me a strange look when he passes me by. His eyes are lingering. Always lingering. I want to smack him too. Whatever his deal is, how could he be friends with that pack of lions? How could he sit there and say nothing while they torment innocent people like Serena?
After school, I try to interview the security guards, but they all shoo me away and refuse to say a word. With no other recourse, I take the bus to the city hospital to talk to Serena again.
At the front desk, I ask for Serena since I don’t know her mom’s name. The nurse won’t give up the information.
I start to leave when I spot Serena walking down the hallway, her shoulders slumped and her steps slow and plodding. She’s still in her Redwood Prep uniform, but she’s cleaned up a bit. There’s no soot on her face and her hair seems clean.
I tiptoe behind Serena, following her into a hospital room. There are six beds. Each of the beds are occupied by patients in hospital gowns.
Serena goes to the bed in the middle and takes out a fruit cup. My eyes widen when I see her muster up a smile for the woman in the bed. It’s the brightest, fakest smile I’ve ever seen on her face.
“Hi, mom,” Serena says.
“Hi, sweetie,” a woman answers in a weak voice. She’s got a scarf on her head and her body is thin and frail.
“Before you ask,” Serena says, “I just got back from school. It was a good day. I even aced my music theory quiz.”
“Oh sweetie, that’s awesome,” her mom croaks.
I clutch my skirt hard as I stare at them.
Serena’s mother glances over and notices me. She offers a welcoming smile when she sees my Redwood Prep uniform.
“Is that your friend?”
Serena whips around and spots me. Her eyes widen with surprise and then narrow with anger and shame.
“What are you doing here, Cadence?”
“I’m sorry. I followed you. I…” My eyes dart to her mom again. She looks nothing like Serena. Was her hair once long and thick and dark like her daughter’s? It’s hard to tell.
Serena’s eyebrows lower over her eyes.
Her mother smacks her and she jumps.
“Serena, is that any way to treat a friend?” Turning a mega-watt smile on me, Serena’s mother waves. “I’m Lillian. And you are?”
I step closer to the bed. “Cadence. Cadence Cooper.”
“Oh, that’s a musical name. You must be a musician.” Her eyes sparkle.
“How did you know?”
“Because you’re friends with Ser.” Lillian turns fond eyes on her daughter. “She’s always gravitated to music. In the womb, she’d kick her legs whenever I played Frank Sinatra.”
“Okay, mom. There’s no need to show her the biopic.” Serena’s eyes meet mine and she juts her chin at the door. Come with me.
I follow her into the hallway.
Serena whirls around and folds her arms over her chest. “What are you spying on me now?”
“Look, Serena, I know you’re angry and you have every right to be. But I’m not the enemy here.” Even if it is my fault she’s in this mess. “I’m going to get them back, okay? And I’m going to bring you back to school.”
“Forget it.” Turning away slightly, she hangs her head. “And, for what it’s worth, I’m not angry with you. I’m just angry at this entire situation. I don’t know how I’m going to tell my mom.”
“Don’t tell her anything for now.”
Her shoulders lift and fall on a sigh. “I won’t. If her emotions get wrecked when she’s so weak…” Serena leans against the wall, picking at her black nail polish.
“How long has your mom been sick?” I ask quietly.
“A while.” She takes out the lighter and flicks it at me. “She’s been smoking since she was a kid. It was the only way she could make it through her hard life. She got lung cancer and couldn’t smoke anymore. But it comforts her to flick the lighter.”
My heart stirs. “The lighter belongs to your mother.”
“I picked up the habit. You know,” she licks her lips, “even if you don’t set anything on fire, it feels good to know that there’s some kind of light.” She catches herself and the mask of antipathy falls again. “I guess that’s stupid to you.”
“No, it’s really not. I get it.” I touch her shoulder. “Miss Jamieson was the one who helped me out when I almost got kicked out of school. I’m teaming up with her again. You will finish out your school year no matter what.”
She gives me a watery smile. “I’m such an awful friend in general. They say that like things attract, so how did I pick up a friend like you?”
I glance away. I’m the friend who got her into this mess. Maybe we really shouldn’t have met each other.
Serena sighs. “I should get back to my mom.”
“Remember, don’t tell her anything for now. Keep the school from contacting her too.”
“I will.”
Stepping outside once again, I tilt my face to the sky and think about Serena’s sad eyes.
I’m tired of always being on the receiving end of the brutality.
I’m tired of being hurt.
Dutch Cross messed with my people for the last time. I’ll find a way, any way, to hurt him back.
