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Perkins is involving himself in our business more and more, not that he isn’t always snooping, but specifically now where Raven is involved.
Maybell is being left out of the loop.
There’re too many fucking things that aren’t sitting right.
I need answers, but I don’t even know the right questions to ask anymore.
She could very well be the poor girl who took the money and ran and there’s nothing to figure out.
I mean, fuck, all we offered her was a temporary place to lay her head, right?
I laugh at myself, that’s fucked if she felt that way.
She was more than that.
More than we ever could have thought.
More than we ever could have wanted.
Everything us three cold-hearted assholes needed.
I stuff my phone away and grab my backpack off the ground, heading for class.
Raven Carver is mine.One day.
Day fucking one and I’m ready to beat these bitches’ faces in.
I’ve never possessed so much self-control in my fucking life.
Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, I didn’t even know I had self-control.
Every class was a damn nightmare, but I didn’t once look up from my papers – thank hell for dumb ass district testing week.
It’s lunch now and the floozies are flying high and coming hard.
And I’m pretty sure I’ll explode if I don’t do something about it.
Right when I think it, like the flashing sign I needed, shiny black and teal in the form of an oversized bow catches my eye as Chloe sashays in the cafeteria like my mother when on the hunt.
I glare, tracking every swing of her step. Her steps carrying her straight to the boys’ table.
I jerk from my chair before Collins can stop me and swiftly move toward her.
I purposely step forward as she does, causing her to bump right into me, not missing the way the noise dies down the second I do.
She’s jolted back, and I’m nudged to the side slightly, but I recover easier than her.
Her cheer bag falls from her shoulders and she growls, looking from it to me, but her eyes widen just the slightest when she sees I’m the one she ‘bumped’ into.
“Watch out,” she snaps, but I smirk when her fingertips instinctively move to the tips of her itty bitty ponytail.
“How you likin’ the short look?” I goad her.
Her hand swiftly falls to her side and she stands tall. “Love it,” she lies through a nasty grin. “Thanks for the cut.”
“Anytime,” I say back, but I feel my eyes hardening the longer we stand here.
I take a step closer, and a zing shoots up my back, wrapping around my shoulders and making my head buzz.
Yes, I missed this feeling.
Her pupils grow, I can only imagine how my eyes have changed to evoke fear in the ice queen.
I’ve got a lot built up and haven’t let it out in a cool minute.
My body is tingling to, begging me to snap so it can crash – the troubles of virtually no sleep in days.
“Back off, Raven,” she whispers, her body leaning away while her feet stay planted.
I should. She only knocked into me, and because I made sure it happened while also making sure it looked like it was her fault, but we girls are as smart as we are dumb. They’ll understand.
“It’s Rae.” I snatch her bag off the floor and toss it in the garbage can beside me. “And I can’t do that.”
She gasps and darts forward, but I slide in front of her.
I stuff my hand in the side of my dress, pulling what I need out of the waist of my bottoms, making sure to close my fist around it so she can’t see. I hold my hand out over the garbage can.
“What are you doing...” She edges closer but freezes when a darkness passes over me. “My uniform is in there.”
Without taking my eyes off hers, I slide my lighter up and blindly flick the flame on.
Her stare snaps between me and the flame as she nervously licks her lips, attempting – and failing – to give a careless shrug. “Whatever, I’ll just pull out a replacement.”
I nod lightly, hiding my annoyance for not considering that beforehand, but when she shifts from one foot to the next, I tilt my head.
“No harm, then, hm?” I bait her quietly, my hand dropping an inch closer.
“Yeah, but—” She reacts before she can stop herself, clamping her mouth shut before more can be said.
A chill runs through me, and I drop my hand until the flame touches the edge of the bag folded over the edges.
She fights it, I give her that, but her bravado cracks, her shallow breathing giving her panic away. “Wait! Our signs are in there! Our music, props, everything we need!”
When I give her nothing, her eyes grow glossy, both anger and frustration front and center.
She’s angry because she knows she can’t stop me. “We fly out tomorrow night. There is no way we can replace all that in time!”
