Bastard is too damn aware.
I glare up at him.
He rolls his eyes. “It’s just school, Drea. I can handle it.”
“I know you can,” I murmur, tightening my arm around his. “Doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”
The gold in his hazel eyes flashes with pain. Then dulls. He extracts himself from me; it’s like fingers digging into a bruise.
“I’m fine. I promise.” He gives me another see-through smile— one that whispers,Please accept my lies. I’m too tired.Breathing hurts. My teeth dig into the inside of my cheek as he widens the distance between us. “I’ve gotta stop by the nurse anyway. I’ll see you in first period.”
I’m left to watch him disappear inside with my chest ripped open and my aching heart exposed to the miserable heat.
“Boyfriend trouble?”
Cade comes into focus as I blink away tears. He removes a pair of sunglasses.
“Not boyfriend,” I croak, clearing my throat and adjusting my bag. “Best friend. He’s having a hard time lately and… I don’t know how to help him.”
He nods, staring over my shoulder in the direction Remy fled.A line forms between his brows. “Maybe he doesn’t know how you can help either.”
His logic does nothing to relieve the agony caged by my ribs. Cade tucks his fingers into the front pockets of his baggy jeans, lost in a contemplative trance.
We’re interrupted by a snide scoff. “Damn, church girl, you sure do have a thing for gays, don’t you?”
Grant Larson approaches us, flanked by his cronies, Marcus and Jessica. Memories replay: a short horror film. Grant’s hand around Win’s throat. Jeers and cackling. The three of them surrounding him like vultures. Fury festers. I cling to it like a life raft. Because anger is easier than facing guilt or shame or helplessness.
But Cade isn’t Win.
There’s no fear in his eyes. Fire sparks— violent and deviant— his entire body deceptively loose as he spins on his heel and cocks his head.
“Lucky me then.”
Grant recoils.
Jessica wrinkles her nose.
Marcus stares slack-jawed. Then blurts, “What’s up with your eyes?”
A disturbingly calm smile curves Cade’s lips. “I’m actually a telekinetic telepath who uses his eyes to get into your head and wreak havoc.”
Marcus’s face contorts in horror.
Cade sighs. “Fuck, you’re dense. It’s called heterochromia, you incel.”
I bite back a laugh.
Grant’s nostrils flare as he sneers down at the unfazed blonde. “Got a mouth on you, huh?”
Cade runs the tip of his tongue over his teeth. “Unfortunately for you, you’ll never experience the magic I can do with it.”
Now my jaw is hanging.
Theballson this guy.
Grant jumps back like he’s been electrocuted. “The fuck, faggot!”
Snickering, Cade steers me toward the entrance, calling over his shoulder. “Takes one to know one, sweetheart!”
