“No,” I bark, refusing to accept fucking tutoring off Theo.
“Daemon, we all just want to help.”
“I’m fine. I can handle it myself.”
“You’ve only got a few weeks. Now isn’t the time to be too proud to accept help.”
“I’ve got it under control,” I growl, hoping like hell it’s the truth.
“Right. Well, you’re off duty while you make that happen. And if you don’t, I’ll stand by your father’s wishes and ensure you’re re-enrolled for September.”
“Boss,” I groan.
“You’re a fantastic soldier, Daemon. An asset to our Family. Sometimes, we just have to jump through a few hoops to get where we want to be.”
I mumble my agreement, but I don’t think he realises that passing these exams, even if I have fewer than all the others do, isn’t just as easy as jumping through a fucking hoop.
The second I hang up, my phone goes flying across the room, colliding with the wall that connects my flat to Alex’s, and I roar out my frustration with the world into the silence of my home.
My phone dings, clearly not busted enough to no longer work.
Stalking over, I pick it up and stare at the screen.
Alex: You okay, Bro?
“Just fucking perfect.”
Ignoring him, I stuff my phone into my pocket and head out for the strongest coffee I can make in the hope it helps get me through whatever bullshit Davenport has organised for me.
* * *
It turns out to be back-to-back, one-to-one support sessions around my regular classes.
By lunchtime, I’m so close to walking straight out of that goddamn school I can barely see straight.
My head spins, the dull ache behind my eyes only getting worse with every passing second, and to top it all off, I’m fucking starving thanks to my lack of breakfast.
“Daemon, wait up,” a familiar voice calls from behind me.
“What?” I bark, not bothering to look back.
“Dad said—“
“Fuck what your dad said, Theo. I don’t need your help.”
His concerned stare burns into the side of my face, but I still refuse to look at him.
“I never said you did. I’m sure you’re more than capable of doing this yourself. But if you want a study partner or anything, just know I’m here,” he says, softening the blow.
“I wouldn’t keep your phone close for that call.”
“The offer is there, man. And it can be between us.”
“I said, I don’t—“
“Right, got it. You going to the restaurant? Missed you this week, man.”
Finally, I glance over at him, my brows damn near hitting my hairline at his words.