River lets out an ugly laugh. “I guess not. One day, you’re going to fuck with the wrong person.” He lets go of me.
I could theoretically leave now, but I’m feeling particularly vindictive.
“Did your dad get in touch?” I ask.
If I thought he looked murderous before, that’s nothing compared to how he looks now. “You know what? You’re right. I don’t want to kiss you. I want to strangle you.”
“And this is why Blaze is more interesting.” I flash him a wicked smile. “He’s willing to do both at once.”
His jaw clenches. “How’s that working out for you?”
“He got fucked hard, I destroyed his friendship with Asch, and now he’s going to have even more of a mess on his hands,” I say. I blow a kiss at River. “I’d say it’s working out great for me.”
River scowls. “Yeah. You’ve definitely gotten your share of revenge.” He steps away from me. “Enjoy it while you can, Pandora. When you’re finished burning the world down around you, you’ll be the only one left to enjoy it.”
What a fucking stupid line.
I flip him off and storm off to the front door. I spot Blaze trying to do damage control. Tate’s already gone.
Everybody is talking about Tate though.
“Think he pissed himself on purpose?”
“He probably wanted to drink it.”
“Fucking nasty.”
“I don’t kink-shame—nah, I kid, I fucking kink-shame.”
Yeah. Let’s see how Tate enjoys the entire campus laughing about him. I’m sure videos of this will be all over the student social media before the hour is up.
“Did you see?”
“No, fuck, what happened?”
It’s hard to get past the crowds gathering out front. Everybody wants in on the commotion now. Some of the Nyxies are trying to corral the crowd, but it’s no use.
I elbow my way past a pair in dog and cat costumes. When I’m finally free, I breathe a sigh of relief.
It worked.
Not just the individual parts, but it was all coordinated perfectly. Anastasia hijacking the sound system, the diuretic I’d laced the candy with, Tate already being half drunk and full of liquids, it all came together beautifully.
See, I can take revenge without carving anybody up.
Even if Tate would deserve it.
“Not sticking around for the show?” a guy asks.
I look over my shoulder to see “Perseus” from earlier.
“Nah,” I say. “Can’t risk some no-good Greek hero chopping my head off. Although you might want to look at your shield instead of directly at me, buddy, or else you might turn to stone.”
“Just my cock though, right?” He gets closer to me, and I realize now he’s probably not a student. He’s a bit older, maybe late twenties, which makes me wonder why he’s here, at some college sorority party.
There’s only one type of guy that likes hanging out with women much younger than himself.
“Nah. I don’t discriminate against the more worthless parts of a man,” I retort. “Who are you, anyway? You’re not one of the Chaos losers.”
