Page 27 of Cruel Titan

“No. I never really thought about it because it doesn’t matter. My dad wouldn’t have been able to afford to send me either.” Obviously, since he’d attended on scholarship. Which makes me believe I was at least told the truth about some part of their life. A thought crosses my mind as I search for Rogers—Candace’s maiden name—and I promptly locate the folder. The Bennett Foundation paid for both of my parents to attend Golden Olympus. Why does that feel so out of place and way too coincidental?

“I guess we have more in common than I thought,” Connor says softly as he brushes his thumb along my cheek. It reminds me of how Asher does the same thing, but it feels so different, feels more natural.

Connor slowly bends forward, his face inching closer before his lips brush against mine, softly kissing me. I swiftly step back. This doesn’t feel right. I think some day it could, but not here, not when I’m in such turmoil, and not when my mind is thinking about the way another guy’s lips feel right. Asher’s words still ring in my ears, I can hear his voice saying how I didn’t want anyone’s touch but his. For some sick and twisted reason, it’s still true, I do want it. But that doesn’t mean I should.

I just can’t do this.

Connor holds his hands up in front of him as he whispers, “Quinn, I’m sorry. I just … I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No. It’s not. I really am sorry. You’re upset and I’m making a move on you when I should just be here to be your friend.”

“I’m just not ready for anything right now.”

“I get that.” He rubs his hand on his neck, looking around the room before looking back to me. “Can I still finish that dance with you, or did I just completely blow everything?”

“We still need to finish that dance, but first will you help me load all these files onto a cart so we can haul them upstairs?” Giving him a reassuring smile, I hope someday I can rid my mind of craving Asher’s touch. I need to replace that desire with someone sweet and kind, like Connor.

“Let’s get them loaded up.” He gives me a playful nudge on the shoulder before heading across the room to grab a cart.

As I’m placing the files in the cart, I realize the slideshow just got a lot longer and will take me more time to prepare than I’d thought. With all the files retrieved, we push the overloaded cart back to the elevator. Returning to the conference room, Connor and I stack them on the table as I prepare for the tedious task of uploading all the pictures. But first, curiosity gets the best of me. I sit, flipping through the files. Noting the faces and names, I search for something helpful, but nothing jumps out at me until I open a folder and stare at a very familiar face. It takes me a few seconds …

“The yearbook,” I whisper under my breath. I’d recognize her face anywhere after searching for it fruitlessly for so long. It’s the girl my dad was dancing with in the prom photo. The one that I searched the yearbook for, with no luck, until I handed it off to Davis at the café.

“What?” Connor asks, flipping through a random file on the table.

“Nothing. I’m just thinking this is going to take me awhile, so I think I’ll just get a fresh start on it tomorrow.”

He stretches, standing from the chair. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll walk you to your car.”

For once, I wish Connor wasn’t so polite because I need to do something I don’t want him to see. “Can you return these to Sophie while I shut down the laptop?” I say, holding the key ring out.

“Sure.” He takes the keys, walking out the room, and I wait until he’s past the edge of the glass wall before swiftly stacking the mystery girl’s file folder on top of the two files for my parents, then shove all three into my messenger bag. Maybe the files will provide some answers and not lead to even more questions, because the girl has to relate to this somehow. If she was also a scholarship student, why is she nowhere to be found in the yearbook?

Davis. I need to show him this, but he’s still recovering and warned me to stay away. Even if I show him, he can’t help me right now.

“Ready to go?” Connor asks as I startle.

“Yep,” I whisper, eyeing the bag that might be housing the answer I need. Even a clue to point me in the right direction would be welcome. The real question isn’t if I’m ready to go but rather will I be ready when I arrive where I’m headed. I fear that once I get to the truth, I might not like where I’ve ended up.

20

Asher

The lights flash by in a blur as I stare out the limousine’s window. I really wish the nagging voice in my ear would blur out too, but I can’t seem to block her out.

“Asher.” Victoria slaps my arm. “Are you listening to me?”

“How can I not?” I shove back, pulling at the tie that is snug against my neck. It feels like it’s choking me already, and it’s only been on a few minutes.

“Well, you should’ve listened to me earlier because now we’re late since you couldn’t be bothered to get dressed on time. You’re lucky Mom and Dad had the driver drop them early and return later for us or you’d be listening to all three of us.”

“Nothing new. Besides, I told you I could drive myself.”

“Yeah. Okay. Because you and your stupid date aren’t plastered already.” Victoria points across the car to where Elliot is seated. He watches her with an amused smile.

Knowing Elliot is brewing up something to piss her off further, he doesn’t disappoint when he throws his arm over Dalton’s shoulder next to him. Why he’d insisted on sitting next to Victoria’s date on the ride to the fundraiser, I could only guess. “You might want to drink up if you’ll have to deal with that all night.” He flicks his finger in Victoria’s direction as he passes the chump a drink, and Dalton downs it immediately.