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He was up and rounding the table before he finished the sentence. I scooted down the moment he sat, making sure we weren’t touching, not even by accident. He scrolled through the list until he reached number twenty-six and pointed to it. Jamie Grey.Oh, right, that was his name.He scored eighty-six.
Jamie scrolled down even further until nearly at the bottom of the list, and there was my name, or at least my first name. I really needed to get the office to change my damn last name back. Next to my name, I’d scored twenty-two percent.Better than I thought.
“You know if our grades get too low, we have to start attending supplementary classes on the weekends and school breaks.”
“We have to do what now?” Fuck, this school was making dropping out and getting my GED look more inviting every single day.
Jamie nodded, pushing my food aside as Martha returned to the table. “What are you doing?”
He ignored my question. “But don’t worry, I can help you. A few study sessions, and you will be passing in no time. Can’t get you to the top, but the middle might be possible.”
He went to push my two pie plates over, and I stabbed the fork into the pile of napkins next to it. Jamie jumped and moved his hands back.
“Who’s at the top?”
“That would be me,” Samson’s smooth, monotone voice wrapped around me and dragged my attention to him.
As I stared at him, Samson was staring down at Jamie. His smile wasn’t as bright, as if he couldn’t muster up the will to continue to grin.
“Jamie Grey, how’s your father’s furniture store going?” Samson asked, his smile widening. It looked more evil than good-natured.
Jammie visibly got smaller, and I rolled my eyes. It was like picking on a mouse. I wouldn’t be surprised if he squeaked.
“It’s going good,” he said, staring down at his plate.
“Why don’t you go help him out? He tends to get busy around this time, doesn’t he?”
Jamie’s head shot up, and his mouth dipped down in a frown. “How—” He shut his mouth and glanced my way.
I didn’t know why but a spark ignited in his eyes. I just knew he was about to do something stupid.
He slipped out of the booth. He was only a few inches shorter than Samson, but from where I was sitting, it looked like so much more. He stared up at him and rolled his shoulders back like he was facing a bully. A part of me wanted to tell him to sit down, but who was I to stop him from growing balls?
“I’m on a date. If you don’t mind, please leave us alone and keep my family out of your mouth.”
Date? My brows dipped as I tried to recall if I had agreed to a date. I placed my fork down, ready to correct the misunderstanding when Samson’s fist collided with Jamie’s face. A gush of blood hit the floor as Jamie stumbled back. His nose was pouring blood, as his eyes lost focus.
Samson looked ready to go in for more when I took action.
“Shit. What the hell?” I grabbed Samson’s arm and pulled him back. There was something about his eyes that wasn’t right.It always feels like he wears a mask.
His smile was still firmly on his face, but it came off more menacing than before. His real emotions were cracking through. Electricity danced up my arms, and my stomach tightened.
Why in the hell am I so excited?I wanted to see more of Samson. Wait, no, that wasn’t right. Was it possible to have Stockholm syndrome without being kidnapped? They did hold me in a cage for a few hours at the party. But that was weeks ago.
Fuck, my brain was all over the place. First Rem, then Hawke, and now Samson. The fucking cherry on the shit sundae would be Luxious. I mentally laughed at the idea. He was good-looking but was too much of an ass even for me.
“Hey, are you okay?” I asked Jamie.
He cupped his nose, tears running down his cheeks.
Samson turned me away from him. “You need a tutor. I’ll do it.”
Huh?
“If you date guys like him, he will only bring you down further,” Samson said.
Not to kick a horse while it was down, but there was a misunderstanding I needed to clear up. “This isn’t a date. I sat down to eat. He joined me.” I shrugged. That was literally what happened. I hadn’t invited him to sit with me. Sure he asked me, and for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what answer I gave in response. Still, I sure as shit hadn’t agreed to a date.
