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And if he ever figures out just how much Evangeline means to me, they’ll just go after her next.
Deguerre might be making a shot in the dark. He might not actually know that I never walked away from the girl he thinks is Olivia, that I couldn’t even if I tried. This might all be a bluff to see how I react.
“I’ll work on not giving a shit anymore. You seem good at that.”
He studies me with an expression that almost seems pitying. “Someone is always watching, Van Koch. You don’t have any secrets from us. The alumni will burn all of you to the ground before we let you destroy what we’ve built.”
I shrug, even as my belly clenches. “I want out of here today.”
The asshole is all smiles now that he’s gotten his way. “As a show of good faith, I’ll see what I can do. Just keep in mind that it won’t take much effort to put you right back here, or somewhere worse, if you make me. Be glad you’re one of us or we wouldn’t even be offering this second chance.”
This feels much less like a second chance than it does like straight out blackmail. “Where is Felicia?”
“She might make it back to campus before you do,” he replies easily. “I think it’s important to keep her close by, a constant reminder for you of what you have to lose.”
“If anything happens to her, all bets are off.”
It’s tempting to wrap the cuffs around his neck and squeeze the life out of Jack Deguerre. I might be tempted to do it, if I thought for a second that I’d actually manage to kill him. The guards will pull me away before I can do any real damage, and Felicia will still be at the mercy of the alumni.
But I still have to resist the urge to grab for him as he strolls past me.
Impotent rage is a hell of a drug.
As if he knows exactly what’s going through my mind, Jack winks at me from the door. “Chin up, Van Koch. We’re all getting something we want here. If you start growing a conscience again, just remember what you have to lose. Remember that look on your baby sister’s face. We can make sure things get very bad for her if you make us.”
“Just get me the fuck out of here.”
He winks as the door closes.
The alumni are offering me my life back, a return to the way things used to be, in exchange for my silence. I’ve been a part of Havoc House for four years, but this is the first time I’ve ever felt like I sold my soul to the devil.
I can only hope that Evangeline understands why I have to do this.
Chapter Six
For the first time in my entire life, I’m actually looking forward to attending class.
I haven’t heard so much as a single word from Drake, not that I expected to. Olivia has made it very clear that she has no intention of lifting a finger to help him. My phone has been physically on my body since he left, alert for the slightest vibration or ping of a message received, but I haven’t heard a damn thing.
Even though I know it’s stupid, I’ve tried calling him a few times. The call goes to voicemail every single time. The phone is either turned off or dead.
Which means he is still rotting in a cell somewhere.
Everyone is in the dining hall for breakfast on the first day of classes. My sister sits at one of the largest tables with every seat around her occupied. Some people hover around the edges without an actual place to sit, even though there are plenty of empty chairs at other tables.
I’m eating alone because Anya had to make a last-minute change to her schedule at the registrar’s office, and Felicia hasn’t gotten back to campus yet. I know she flew home to South Africa for break and there are a dozen reasons she could have gotten delayed, so I’m trying to let myself worry.
Sitting here and watching people fawn over my sister while she pretends to be me is even more annoying than I expected it to be. It seems unfair that she gets to sail through this place without any baggage.
As much as I hate to admit it, her identity was a burden that I thought I took on for the greater good. Not only did she not appreciate my efforts, but now she seems to relish in punishing me for just trying to help. Nothing about this is right and I don’t know how to fix it.
Assuming that any of this even can be fixed.
Like all identical twins, Olivia and I spent most of our childhood with people gleefully cataloguing our similarities and differences. Everyone loved to treat us like one of those Spot the Difference games you find on the back of kid’s menus in chain restaurants. If one of us is smart, the other has to be wild. One can be a wallflower, but that means the other must thrive as the life of the party.
I’ve gotten used to being compared to my twin and being the one found wanting, but not like this.
So I scarf my food down as quickly as I can and meander around campus until my first class starts. I’d much rather spend the next few hours listening to droning lectures than put up with another minute of the Olivia show.
