“No, I’m sorry. I need to grow a backbone when it comes to those three. I can face off against Blair and the bitch squad without really thinking twice, but there is just something dark about those three that makes my blood turn to ice.”
I shrug before picking at my lunch again. “I get it. Something’s definitely changed with them since I left, I just wish I knew what their game was.”
“With the rumors I’ve heard around this place, it could range from just some bored fun to something fucking deadly. Please be careful.” My eyebrows raise at her comment. What the actual fuck does she meandeadly? Apparently I’ve been away from here for way too long, but if they’ve set their sights on me, I’m not about to back down.
Deadly or not.
* * *
We make it through the rest of lunch without any drama, and I leave Indi to head to her class as I meander toward my locker. I have French next, and considering the amount of time I’ve spent in France, it’s not really a class I’m worried about passing. I speak six different languages, all fluently, thanks to my badass tour tutors.
“Octavia!” I groan at the sound of my name on Lincoln’s lips again. What is it with him and Maverick trying to steal the small moments of peace I find?
“Yes, Lincoln?” I turn to face him, crossing my arms. It might be a small barrier between us, but I’ll take any barriers I can get until I work out what the fuck he’s playing at. I don’t think he’d attack me in the hall, but I wouldn’t put anything past him at this point.
“I want you to reconsider the gifts.” He frowns at me, and it’s more than apparent that he’s not used to people telling him no. Despite their father not being around much, the Saints basically own this town, so I’m sure no one has ever really told him no in his life.
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t want the clothes, Lincoln.”
“Why not?”
“Because they weren’t a gift. I’m not a willing participant in this game you're playing. You can try to intimidate me all you like, but I’m not budging on this. You already took enough from me.”
His frown deepens, and his shoulders tense. “You always could see me like no other.”
His muttering makes absolutely no sense to me, so I just raise an eyebrow and wait for him to get on with whatever it is he has to say.
He takes a step forward, so close I can feel the heat of his skin as his warm, earthy scent assaults me. I refuse to step back and give him the space I did Maverick in the cafeteria. I can feel that he’s a different kind of dangerous, and I just need to work out exactly how. “A lot has changed since you left. You’d have been better off not coming back here.”
“Oh awesome, we’re back to this again. You’re a broken record, Lincoln. I already told you, I didn’t have a choice.”
His entire demeanor changes, turning icy cold. He narrows his eyes, and his calculating stare makes me hold my breath. Something just changed, and I have no idea what or why.
He grips my arms, so tightly I think I might bruise, before leaning down until we’re eye to eye. “Don’t get me started on things you don’t have a choice in, Octavia. You should’ve stayed away. But you’re here now, and that means you need to get the fuck in line before you get hurt.”
“The only thing hurting me right now, Lincoln, is you.” I try to pull away, but his grip is like a vise.
“You can’t imagine the things that could hurt you here. Everything so far… that's just a small taste. Your dad might have taken the easy way out, but at least he got out. He left you here to fend for yourself in his stead like a fucking coward.” His biting tone has nothing on the pain piercing my heart.
“You don’t get to talk about my dad like you knew him,” I hiss, pushing him away from me. “You have no idea what he went through or why he did what he did.” Tears threaten to fall at the thought, but I won’t let them fall here. Not in front of him. Not like this.
“You have no idea what I know,” he growls before standing up straight and smoothing down his blazer. I have no idea what the fuck he’s talking about, but I don’t have a chance to ask him before he turns on his heel and stalks away from me.
My emotions roar inside of me like a storm I can’t outrun.
Anger.
Confusion.
Devastation.
The emotions build to a roaring pitch inside of me as I watch him walk away. I’m startled by the bell followed by the principal’s voice through the intercom. “An assembly has been called in place of your next class. Please make your way to the auditorium. Attendance is mandatory.”
The halls fill with noise and bodies in an instant as kids spill out of their classrooms. It’s damn near suffocating, and I struggle to breathe as they force their way past me in the halls to get to the auditorium. This is all way too fucking much.
“Fuck this,” I mutter, and walk in the opposite direction of the auditorium. I need a refuge right now, and there is only one place I can think of to go.
* * *