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The girl I’d been just a year ago might’ve been happy to be here. She might’ve been glad to be seen on the arm of the son of one of the most powerful families in Baltimore. She would’ve been among the groups of girls whispering together, complimenting each other’s dresses, admiring each other’s jewelry.
The girl I was today took one look around and marched toward the drink table, wishing there was something to spike the fucking punch with.
Minutes ticked by as more and more students arrived, and the lights in the gymnasium were dimmed as music blared through the space. Barrett stood awkwardly at my side for a while, casting me glances out of the corners of his eyes every now and then.
Finally, he turned to me. “Would you like to dance?”
I looked over at him slowly, brows pulling together. “No.”
He scoffed, then shook his head. “You think you’re being so tough, saying ‘no, no, no’ over and over? Well, let me break it to you, sweetheart. You’re not. All you’re doing is acting like a fucking baby, whining about how this isn’t what you want.” He turned to face me fully, and he reminded me so much of my father for an instant that I fell back a step. “This is happening. You’re not stopping it by being a fucking bitch every step of the way. I think you know that. So why don’t you climb off your fucking high horse, come to grips with reality, and dance with me. Your parents want pictures, remember?”
He smirked as he said the last bit, and something inside me snapped.
No, not snapped.
Tore.
It was as if someone had taken the two halves of me, the two sides I’d spent the past months trying to reconcile, and physically torn them apart. A deep ache spread through my chest, radiating outward as if the tear in my being had left me bleeding internally.
“You’re wrong.” My voice was so low I could barely hear it over the music, thick with emotion. “You’re so fucking wrong. I will never be yours. You’re a smarmy, greasy, ugly-souled hypocrite who thinks the world owes you more than the wealth and power you were lucky enough to be born into. There are people who love me who would never forgive me for saying this, but I’ll die before I marry you. I fucking mean it.”
My hands shook as I turned on my heel, wanting to get as far away from Barrett as possible. But before I could walk away, he grabbed my wrist.
“What the hell, Cora? You can’t just—”
I yanked my arm free and shoved at his chest, and his eyes flew wide as he caught his balance. I hit him again, my hands curled into fists this time, and several people around us stepped back, their eyes widening.
Barrett’s body tensed, like he was going to retaliate or grab me again. But his gaze flicked around the room, realizing how much attention we’d already drawn, and he slowly took a step back, his eyes burning into mine.
“Get your rebellious phase out of the way now, Cora,” he drawled, a cruel smile curving his lips. “Because the first thing I’m going to do when we get married is teach you some fucking manners.”
A burst of cold fear tried to break through the anger pulsing inside my veins, but I could barely register it. All I saw was red. Turning away from the boy I despised more than almost anyone in the world, I stalked away, scanning the edges of the gymnasium as I looked for someplace quiet and dark to pass the rest of the evening.
My skin prickled, a sudden awareness making my whole body buzz.
I froze, my feet stopping in place so I could inspect the edges of the room more carefully.
My heart beat hard and fast when I recognized the broad frame of the boy with short blond hair who stood just inside one of the doors that led to the courtyard outside.
Kace.
Seventeen
My entire body reacted to the sight of him, and I glanced behind him, searching for the other two Lost Boys. I didn’t see them though. Kace was alone.
What was he doing here?
How much of my fight with Barrett had he seen?
Sudden fear swept through me, and my feet started moving toward him before I even consciously gave them the command. Kace had a bigger heart than almost anyone I knew. But he’d been raised on violence, and he was protective and possessive of the things he loved. If he had seen Barrett grab my wrist, seen him manhandle me like that…
Fuck.
I couldn’t let Kace get into a fight on Highland Park grounds. If shit went down between the two of them, Barrett would get his ass handed to him—but he’d be only too fucking happy to press charges.
I was practically running by the time I reached Kace and threw myself into his arms. He was so solid and big that he didn’t even stagger at the collision, and although he stayed still, I could feel his heart beating hard against mine.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered.
