I can see that he wants to argue, but I don’t give him a chance to. I pull away, out of his arms, and stand up. His mouth opens, forming the shape of my name, but I don’t wait to hear it.
I just walk away.
* * *
All throughout the next day,I felt guilty about what I said to him. I know he hurt me too, but I shouldn’t have taunted him with his ex, and I know it. He wasn’t at breakfast, and I can’t shake the feeling all day that I’ve done more harm than good, that I’ve succeeded only in pushing him further away rather than bringing him closer.
Despite all the work I did to stay current in my classes, I still feel lost. I can tell the professors are annoyed with the special treatment they were instructed to give me, too, which makes me feel even worse. I don’twantto be treated differently than everyone else. Still, I’m also grateful for it because I’d be failing everything if not for that.
After class, I head towards the coffee shop to meet up with Mia, a small thrill of excitement running through me at the realization that I’ll be able to buy my own coffee today, even treat Mia to something. It’s a small thing, but it feels so fucking good to have that freedom again. It’s one step closer to the ultimate freedom—getting away from this town and starting over, starting a new life.
It occurs to me that I could just go to an ATM, pull out a considerable cash advance with the card, ditch my phone, and do my best to disappear. Dean would still have his ways to follow me, maybe, but I could at least get a good head start. It’s tempting—terribly tempting, but something holds me back.
That something, of course, is two things, really. One is my mother—if I just run, leaving her here, she’ll be left wide open both for the vengeance of whoever is after me and for Dean and Cayde and their families to question. If I’m leaving, she has to come with me, and that’s going to take more convincing than I think I’m ready to explain to her just yet.
The second is my own revenge and the need to know who is really behind all of this. It’s not so much that I care about the people in this town. After all, some of them hurt me badly only a few weeks ago, but the fact that I don’t want this to continue. I want to know who hurt me, and I want my revenge. And I don’t want anyone else to go through what I have. I want to bring an end to entitled men tormenting a girl whose only fault is having been picked for a ritual she knew nothing about. The thought that there’s some future girl who will wake up in the Blackmoor House bedroom, alone and afraid with no memory of how she got there, about to be subjected to all the fear and cruelties that I was, makes me burn with anger.
It doesn’t matter if I ended up liking the punishments in the end. She might not. And anyway, it doesn’t change the fact that Dean and Cayde and even Jaxon should never have been entitled to me in the first place. This should never have happened. I should never have had to endure their bullying or their coercion, no matter how it turned out in the end.
This ends with me, I think, gritting my teeth as I pull my jacket a little more tightly around me and walk down the cobblestone path towards the small coffee shop on the edge of campus.This is never going to happen to any other girl. And no boy is going to be taught that this is his birthright.
I don’t care if I have to burn this whole fucking place to the ground.
Mia is waiting for me, her curly hair tied back, dressed in a plaid skirt and knee-high socks and a long-sleeved shirt with a wool vest over it that makes her look like she’s wearing a uniform even though we’re in college, and uniforms are no longer required.
“You’re really into that prep-school look, aren’t you?” I ask teasingly, joining her in line to order. “You know we graduated from the academy, right?”
Mia pushes her glasses up on her nose. They’re much more stylish now than what she wore in high school, frames that suit her face in size with a rose-gold rim. “It’s called ‘dark academia,’ and it’s a trend,” she says primly. “Besides, boys like these kinds of socks. They think they’re sexy.”
I take a long look at my best friend. Mia has never been what I’d call “sexy.” However, she certainly could be if she went in a slightly different direction with her look. But she’s certainly pretty, beautiful even, even with the prep-school clothing and the wild curly hair and glasses. “How is that working out for you?”
Mia sighs. “Not great. I even went to one of those social mixers last week, but no guys even really bothered talking to me. It’s like they can’t see past all the shiny blonde hair and fake tits.”
I have to admit, there is a surprising amount of girls with implants here. I can only imagine that a lot of girls spent the summer between graduation and college doing everything they could to catch the eye of one of the heirs. They must have been very disappointed, I think grimly, to realize that all three of the heirs only seem to have eyes for their pet.
I can’t blame the guys for thinking that the creepy note and the girl who’d been following me had just been someone who was jealous. There’s got to be no shortage of jealous girls here, especially after the party when it became very clear that at least two out of three are all mine. Jaxon isn’t exactly the type that invites girls to chase him. If anything, he probably scares them more than Cayde even would, with his side shave and dark eyes and motorcycle. Jaxon goes out of his way to be exactly the opposite of what those girls want—which is probably part of why I’m so irritatingly fucking attracted to him.
“You’ll meet someone when the time is right,” I tell her, turning my attention back to Mia. “I know that’s a really fucking annoying thing to hear. But it’s true. A lot of the guys on this campus aren’t even worth your time, and if they don’t want you the moment they see you, then they definitely don’t deserve you. You’re smart and beautiful, and you have a lot going for you—if a guy doesn’t recognize that, then it’s his loss.”
Mia smirks. “Thanks, Athena. But honestly, I’m not even looking for a boyfriend. I just want to lose my fucking virginity. I already look like enough of a nerd. I feel like I’m just going to be that shy girl with her nose in a book who doesn’t get fucked until she’s twenty-five.”
“I mean, a lot of these college guys don’t even know what they’re doing. Maybe you’re better off waiting until you get out of here, into the real world. Find someone who knows how to go down on you.”
She narrows her eyes. “Athena, are you, with your small harem of men, honestly telling me that no one on this campus knows what they’re doing in bed?”
Okay, that’s fair.“Is two men really a harem? Because Jaxon still hasn’t put out.” We’re next in line, and I glance at the bakery display. “Also, what do you want? Because it’s my treat today.”
Mia blinks at me. “Wait, you have money now?”
I nod, feeling suddenly awkward that it’s such a big deal. I’m an adult; if a young one, I should have my own fucking debit or credit card without it being a major event. But Mia is looking at me as if I just said I’d become a millionaire—which, to be fair, I might have. I have no idea if there’s even a limit on the card—which just reminds me of how strange and limiting my situation really is.
And it just increases my determination to make sure that I don’t wind up trapped in it.
“The guys gave me a credit card and a phone.” I fish the phone out of my back pocket. “I was told you helped them pick out the color.”
Mia grins. “Yeah, I did. I knew about the phone. Honestly, it’s shitty they ever took that away from you. And weird. But I’m glad they gave it back. You’ll be safer with it. And now we can text each other!” She pauses as I shove the phone back into my pocket. “I didn’t know about the credit card, though. That’s good—but Athena, they still control how much money you have. They still can track you through that phone. They still control you more than they should—”
“I know,” I interrupt her as we step up to the counter. I order a hot London fog and a piece of gingerbread and wait while Mia orders her pumpkin latte and some kind of double chocolate muffin that makes my teeth hurt just looking at it. When we step over to the counter to wait, I glance back over at her. “I’m doing my best. It’s just hard when—”