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Everyone acts as if this Electi Gravestone shit is a privilege. It's utter bullshit, if you ask me.
The fighting, the drugs, the secrets, lies, power, money. All of it is total bullshit, and I want nothing to do with it.
I just want a college degree and to get a decent job, have a decent life.
I never asked for any of this.
I shake my head at her excited smile, turn my back on her, and head upstairs.
"Bexley," Marcus greets me as I peer inside his study. "How do you feel?"
"Like shit," I answer honestly. At least I now know why my hangover is so fucking bad.
"Last night's party that good, huh? I remember the night I passed the initiation." A smile pulls at his lips as he relives his former life.
"Cade drugged me and forced me into sleeping with Brook Moore," I blurt. I'm not here to beat around the bush. I want some fucking answers.
"Sounds just like the parties I remember, although I don't ever remember it ever being forced," he mutters.
"This isn't a fucking joke. He found out that I—"
"That you're in love with Mia Thompson?" he finishes for me.
My lips open and close as I stand there in his doorway.
"Come in and sit down, Son."
I hesitate but eventually do as he requests.
"How'd you—"
“I make it my business to know things, Bexley." He leans forward on his elbows and looks me dead in the eyes.
"Well, thanks for the warning."
"I said I know things, not that I'm psychic."
"I'm done, Marcus. I'm so fucking done with this." I push to stand and begin pacing. I'm too irritable to sit still. "I'll transfer somewhere else. I don't need this fucking shit."
"You can't—"
"Because they'll find me? Kill me? Let them. I'm not fucking doing this. I'm not letting him do this, control us like this." I scrub my hand down my face. "The look on her face this morning… I've never seen hurt like that before. She fucking hates me. I get it. I hate myself. I thought it was her. I woke up this morning thinking that I had this amazing night with her, and it wasn't. It was that fucking whore." My fist connects with Marcus’ office wall, my knuckles splitting with the force of the hit and pain shooting down my arm. "And she watched. She wanted me—" A sob rips up my throat, cutting off my words.
"Bexley," Marcus says softly, but I don't react. Instead, I rest my palms against the wall and hang my head, squeezing my eyes closed and picturing what I thought happened last night. Mia's flawless face flushed with pleasure as she rode me, throwing her head back as she came, my fingers gripping her hips tightly as I pistoned in and out of her.
But it wasn't fucking her.
My stomach churns, and I think I'm going to puke right here on Marcus’ carpet.
"Bexley, you can't leave."
"Watch me." Pushing from the wall with blood dripping down my hand, I stalk toward the door.
But I don't get through it, because he says the one thing that will ensure I do anything he wants.
"If you love her, you need to be here to protect her."
I suck in a deep breath at his words.
