Page List


Font:  

“It’s rare.” She points out with another shot going down her throat. “Worth at least two mill.”

“Oh, two mill, how fancy.” I smile and look away. “Is that a yes?”

She’s quiet.

I kind of hate it when she’s quiet. It’s not like her.

“She likes you,” Jenna whispers, not meeting my eyes. “And you’re hurting her. On purpose in order to be with me? To…do…” Her voice cracks.

“I’m saving her,” I correct. “On purpose.”

“Promise me.” Her eyes don’t leave mine. “Right now.”

“I promise.” I grab the knife from my pocket then open it, sliding it across my palm and holding it out to her.

Shaking, she holds out her hand; I slice it and press our blood together, our palms together.

“Blood oaths,” I say, “can’t be broken. Believe me when I say I’m saving her heart, her soul, her life, the only way I know how.”

“By breaking everything?” Tears fill her eyes.

I almost feel bad.

Who is this girl? I mean, really?

Something tells me she’s not just an ordinary college student, but she’s never been vulnerable with me like this. Again, she picks at her carrots.

I look at her, like really look at her. “Who are you?”

She jerks her hand back. “I’ll do it but only for five days, and you better pay up.”

The snotty attitude is back as she wipes her hand on a napkin like I’m unclean, and then she’s taking another shot.

We stay out there and talk a bit longer until I know for sure Izzy will be in her room.

I go around the corner and look up, double-checking that her lights are on. When I see that they are, I come back to Jenna. “Time to moan.”

She stumbles out of her chair. “Sounds like a blast.”

It won’t be.

I almost back out of it a billion times between the bar and my room. Once we’re in, I tell her to laugh.

She does it perfectly.

I slam my hand against the wall.

Jenna frowns at me.

Our clothes are still on.

I tell her to moan.

She does it again.

And I hit the bed with my body as if I’m fucking her.

I hate myself.

I love Izzy more.

A tear slides down my cheek five minutes later when Jenna leaves my room as if we just had a quickie.

“Call me.” She yawns; girl was reading a book on her phone while I was directing our little show and asking her to moan and scream in between jumping on my own bed.

Worst sex ever.

Not that we had sex but still.

When she leaves, I lie down on my mattress and strain to listen to the room next door. Is she there right now? Did she get pissed and leave?

I listen and listen.

And then my heart breaks as the sound of sobbing suddenly fills my room, followed by the words. “I hate him.”

I look up at the ceiling and whisper back. “Mission accomplished.”

I ignore the tears that follow and, minutes later, get up and inject more medicine into my arm, knowing full well, very soon, it won’t matter anyway.

Nothing will matter.

Because I’ll be dead.

Chapter Twelve

“Everyone lives by selling something, whatever his right to it..” —Robert Louis Stevenson

Izzy

“We caught them on one camera,” Ash said the next day while I was attempting to choke down breakfast with Maksim sitting next to me, acting like nothing was wrong when everything was sideways.

“Okay.” I processed what he said. “And what did they catch?”

“Well,” Tank spoke up, “it looks like someone has been watching you. They were hesitant, though; it was weird.”

“Hesitant?” A frown tugged at my forehead. “What does that mean?”

Ash sighed. “It meant they went to light the fire, and it took them a long-ass time to actually execute.”

“We think it was an amateur,” Junior finally said, shoving an entire pancake into his mouth and shrugging. “What?”

Serena rolled her eyes and stared me down. “Also, the culprit is short, not tall at all, so Sergio’s going through all the rest of the evidence to see if we can figure out who’s been close to your little compound for the last few weeks. No way would anyone ever be able to just infiltrate. They were either a new hire or had someone on the inside.”

“De Langes?” I offered.

Junior snorted. “Nope, trust me, they’re too busy making sure shit doesn’t hit the fan at Eagle Elite. Now that most of us are graduating, it’s literally their only job.”

“They’re super pissed that the cafeteria stopped making homemade chocolate chip cookies.” Tank piped up. “Other than that, all the recruits are doing great. It’s not any of them. I’d bet my life on it.”

“So…” I took a deep breath. “Our old enemies, the ones that wanted all of us dead—they’re the good guys, and now we have new enemies that we can’t even identify?”

“Gotta love a mystery.” Maksim finally spoke.

It actually hurt to hear his voice. The thought of shoving his face into his pancakes and suffocating him made me smile.


Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Mafia Royals Crime