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NINETEEN
Remi
“What the fuck happened in here?!” Bentley’s growl makes me press my back against the door, and I second-guess my decision.
“I bet it was that fucker, Vaughn.” I make a small sound at Cashel’s words, and both boys whirl around. Their eyes widen for a millisecond before narrowing dangerously.
Lions’ den, indeed.
A sinister smile hooks Cashel’s lips that sends my heart pounding in equal parts of fear and something a little more psychotic. Bitterwood has frazzled my mind because I seem to get off to the most fucked up things lately. Internally, I acknowledge that I’ve always been less vanilla than I look. I’ve secretly craved to be ravaged by monsters, and Bitterwood certainly brings out the beasts in the men.
“Hello, doll. Come to play?” Bentley drawls from my left, and I raise a brow, appraising him.
Both Cashel and he are dressed in the standard uniform. I remember seeing blood all over them, their clothes saturated, faces smeared red, but everything has been washed away and nothing looks to be bandaged—who the hell’s blood was it?
The haunted look on Cashel’s face flashes in my mind. These boys might be ruthless, but whatever happened to them wasn’t something they chose with pleasure. Cashel and Bianca share the same forlornness in their features. The thought of my roommate reminds me that I’m on borrowed time. My questions aren’t important—although I do want answers—only my objective is.
“Actually, Ihavecome to play.”
Bentley’s dark blue eyes light up in delight, and something about his looks and facial expression remind me of Professor Vaughn not hours ago when I conceded to play with him. Turning to look at Cashel, I suck in a swift breath at the raw emotions stamped into his face—excitement, victory, and wicked intent. There’s a sound outside and the dorm room door slowly opens, panic blooming inside of my chest.
Principal Windsor is here for me—the man has cameras everywhere—why did I think I could get away with this?
Huddling between the narrow space created by the opened door and the wall, my pulse pounding loudly in my ears, I watch in fear through the small opening by the door’s hinge as a man enters. My tension eases slightly when I realize he’s just a guard bringing in a tray of food, and I sigh in relief when I remain unnoticed as the guy leaves and closes the door behind him. As the lock clicks into place, I come to the realization I’m not escaping this little adventure unpunished—so I better damn well get what I came for.
Cashel squares his shoulders towards me, crossing his arms, head slightly tilted. “Didn’t find anything, did you lass?” Cashel’s assumption makes me snort. He’s such a pompous ass, and I long to tell him this, but again, honey not vinegar.
“Oh, I found something—something the two of youneed.”
Bentley shrugs nonchalantly. “I doubt it, doll.”
I grit my teeth at his condescending nickname. “And why’s that?”
“Because we have this.” He flashes a piece of paper at me briefly, but it’s long enough for me to read the words on it.
Fuck—these assholes found a free pass!
My blood boils at how unfair this is... buuuuuuuut, it also means they don’tneedthe box, not like I do. Giddiness sweeps through me before dissolving into something more pragmatic. These two aren’t going to just give me the box simply because they have something better, but it might mean I have a better chance of seducing them out of it—which is what I intended all along.
“Wow, you two got lucky—”
“It wasn’tluck,” Cashel bites out, and I pause, my brain making the connection between the emptiness in his gaze and the blood on his hands, literally and figuratively.
A shudder wracks my body. Cashel isn’t kind. He was already broken before he came to Bitterwood—that much is obvious—it’s why he’s thrived here. For him to look the slightest bit remorseful means what he did—what he had to do—is too heinous for even my brain to conjure. His regret is palpable, a thick tension that stretches around the room and leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
How do you ever become human again when it’s been stripped from you?
Against my better intentions, I soften. “I’m sorry—for whatever happened.”
Cashel flinches like I’ve struck him, but Bentley just purses his lips, stepping closer to me, blue eyes flashing. “Don’tapologize. We—Cash—did what we had to. Fuck everyone else.”
I swallow my pity. Bentley’s right—they don’t want it or need it. I shift to my right, attempting to peer around the boys in search of my prize. “I saw your black box. What’s inside of it?”
“I’ll be the one asking questions, lass, not you,” Cashel parries, eyes darkening, accent stronger than before. “Ben and I are very interested to learn what you got from Professor Vaughn.”
“E-e-excuse me?” My voice wobbles a bit in shock, my stammer pissing me off. I hate how weak I sound.
Cash uncrosses his arms, fists clenching. “Did I fucking stutter, or are you just stupid?” I scowl at his words, my throat clogging with hate and loathing as he repeats himself. “Let me say it again, slower this time so you can fucking understand. What. Did. You. Get. From. Vaughn?” My stomach plummets, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.How does he know?Cashel chuckles, aware of my struggle. “Didn’t he give you something for getting down on your knees like a whore before him?” He grins, stroking his chin with his fingers as if in deep thought when we both know he’s just fucking taunting me. “Perhaps you weren’t there to get anything at all—maybe you just wanted to polish his knob like the dirty little slut you are.”
