Savannah. Trent. The four boys who bullied me, won me over, and then betrayed me.
I wasn’t prepared to share space with all of them again, to be in the same building with them all for over eight hours a day, and by the time I finally burst through the front doors of Linwood just after three o’clock, I’m a mess of pent up emotions and tightly wound tension.
My usual solution when I feel like this is to find a poker game to crash—it’s the only thing I’ve found that makes me feel in control again when my life seems to be spinning out around me.
But I don’t think that’ll work this time.
Because it’s not my life that’s spinning out of control. It’s my mom’s. And playing poker won’t help her, even if we could use the extra money.
The only way I can help her now is by proving her innocence. Proving that the man in black was the one who killed Iris.
The only problem is, I have no fucking idea how to do it.
It takes me almost an hour to get back to the Black family mansion, so Lincoln is already home when I walk in. And I only know that because when I enter through the service door on the second floor, I hear him talking to his dad near his bedroom.
Linc’s room is in the same wing as mine, but it faces the front of the house while mine faces the back. He’s around the corner and down a long hallway, which feels way too close when you’re trying to avoid someone.
And it’s not like I’m trying to eavesdrop. But even though they’re both out of sight, their voices carry to me easily as I reach my bedroom. I pause with my hand on the doorknob, cocking my head.
“Principal Osterhaut is doing the best he can,” Mr. Black says, his voice full of the intense, almost over-the-top earnestness I’ve come to expect from him. “But I don’t think he’s ever dealt with anything like this before. He knows tensions are bound to run high, what with Iris and Harlow both having been students at Linwood. Kids will pick sides, things could get nasty—and I personally think he’s smart to try to cut that off right now. To get ahead of it before it becomes a real problem.”
“Yeah.”
Lincoln’s one-word response is curt, and I have a feeling he doesn’t want to be having this conversation right now.
“Now, I don’t know what this Savannah girl said or didn’t say to Harlow, but if there’s serious bullying going on, you need to tell someone about it. Let the teachers and administrators deal with it. That’s their job. But Osterhaut was clear there’ll be no tolerance for fighting of any kind, even if you’re just defending your girlfriend. So be smart, Linc.”
I freeze, my hand still clutching the knob, and the door to my room half open.
Lincoln Black isn’t my boyfriend.
And I’m not his girlfriend.
Even before things went to absolute shit between us, we hadn’t defined what exactly we were doing. But we were… something. What existed between us was intense and combustive, sweet and sexy. It was miles away from anything I’d felt with previous boyfriends—even official ones. It was on a different fucking plane entirely.
There was something between me and the other three kings of Linwood too, although I never quite had the guts to define it or examine it too closely.
Lincoln doesn’t respond to his dad’s words with any of his own, and his silence makes the twisted mess of emotions in my chest pulse like a bomb about to explode. I don’t know what I want him to say. If he confirmed his dad’s assumption that I’m his girlfriend, I’d probably march down the hall and slap him in the face. But if he denied it, I think it might break my heart.
Fucking hell.
“She’s a sweet girl. Smart. Beautiful. Tough.” Mr. Black’s voice softens slightly. “I can see why you like her. Just… be smart, all right, son? Don’t go getting yourself in trouble defending her honor. Mr. Osterhaut said he’ll let this afternoon’s incident go with a warning, but with all the craziness going on right now, he needs to run a tight ship. He can’t cut you any more slack. Got it?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I got it.”
I can practically hear Lincoln inching away from his dad, trying to end this conversation already. And Mr. Black either notices too, or he’s just said everything he needs to, because I hear him clap Linc on the shoulder before footsteps start down the hall.
As quietly and quickly as I can, I slip inside my bedroom, keeping the knob turned so the latch doesn’t make a noise as I close the door. Then I lean against the heavy wood, blinking as I stare into space for a few seconds.
Well, shit. No matter how sneaky Lincoln and I thought we were being, his dad obviously picked up on the fact that something was going on between us. But, like an out-of-the-way town that’s about a decade behind the rest of the country in fashion and music, Mr. Black hasn’t realized yet that things between me and his son have changed again.
And what did he mean by “this afternoon’s incident”? The almost-fight between me and Savannah was this morning—and the guys were all there, but they didn’t actually do anything that could get them in trouble.
Did something else happen later in the day?
What? When?
Why?