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Samara
“Thisisstupid,”Iwhispered to myself later that night when I walked out the elevator, shivering as the brisk fall air grazed my skin when I sprung outside the academy’s entrance. “So fucking stupid.”
For hours I’d been back and forth in a severe debate with myself over how I should deal with Phantom. Handling Isaac was clearly a no-brainer thanks to yesterday’s orgasmic fest in the courtyard. And Rhett, all I had to do was kiss his ass and maybe sweet talk him a little bit to get him on my side. Those were the easy parts. Phantom was the minefield I had to tiptoe around.
He obviously wasn’t going to approach me, and the longer I kept putting this shit off, the harder it would be to get shit done. I had a plan. It was a stupid as fuck plan, but still a plan, nonetheless. Hopefully it wouldn’t explode in my face.
I shouldn’t have waited so long to make my move. It was almost 9PM. All students had to be back in their dorms by ten ‘o’clock or face being tossed in the dungeon if they were spotted wandering around after curfew. Sky was having a movie night with Brian again tonight, so to cover my own ass I shot her off a quick text letting her know I was going for a walk just in case she came back and started freaking out because I was gone.
About five minutes later I’d finally made it to the boys’ dormitories, freezing in my tracks as I realized something crucial. I didn’t know his room number.
Shit.What the fuck was I supposed to do now?
I’d almost said fuck it and headed back, but I got lucky and noticed an onlooker staring at me by the elevator. I approached him and offered him a fake smile.
“Hey. Would you mind telling me which floor belongs to the Ravagers? I need to see Phantom.”
“You too, huh?” the guy said with raised brows. “Which subject are you failing?”
“Uh…” The question threw me off guard, so I didn’t exactly know how to respond. Why did he want to know what classes I was failing? What did that have to do with Phantom?
“Nevermind. Just follow me.”
We stepped inside the elevator, and I watched as the guy pressed a button for the third floor. As it opened, he exited first. He led me to a door that was labeled R3. I held in a deep snort as my eyes swept over it a second time.
R3. R for the Ravagers and the number 3 because there were 3 of them. How symbolic.
“You’re Samara, right?” the guy said as he reached up to knock on the door.
“Uh, yeah.”
“I’m Greyson. It’s nice to meet you.”
I didn’t reply because the door flew open. Standing in the doorway just had to be exactly who I didn’t want to see. Isaac fucking Danvers.
I rolled my eyes as he flashed me a playful smirk. He chuckled then settled his focus on the guy standing next to me. “Greyson,” Isaac greeted him. “Phantom has been expecting you. You got the money?”
“Yeah.” Greyson reached in his pocket and pulled out a huge wad of cash, slapping it down in Isaac’s palm. Isaac spun on his heel and after a moment or two of awkwardly standing next to this Greyson guy, oblivious as to what was going on here, Isaac returned with a large manilla envelope. He handed it over to Greyson. Wordlessly I watched as the guy gave me a quick little salute before he practically skipped away down the hall.
“So, Samurai.” Isaac’s hooded eyes swept over me. He bit his lip, arching his head to the side. “Back for more?”
I scoffed as he began waggling his brows at me. “No, you fucking pervert. What happened between us willneverhappen again.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” he grinned. “We both know you loved it.”
My cheeks heated at his words. Quickly I brushed it off and tightened my glare, leveling it to his green eyes. “I’m here for Phantom. Is he here?”
His eyes widened a little, then suddenly he threw his head back, gushing out a boisterous laugh. “You…are here to see Phantom?” he questioned disbelievingly.
“Yes,” I howled with clenched fists. “Is he here or not?”
“Oh, he’s here. Come on in. This ought to be really fucking interesting.”
He pushed the door open and as I walked inside, I blinked fast, my mouth dropping open. Rhett was walking around the living room wearing nothing but a towel tied around his waist, his taut, chiseled muscles on full display. He’d just gotten out the shower.
I should’ve averted my eyes, but my sight couldn’t help but to be transfixed on the gorgeous canvas tattooed to his whole back. It was the head of a lion. The mane was a stunning goldish orange color that vibrantly popped in the lighting. The lion’s mouth was open, exposing its razor-sharp fangs, which were lightly stained with blood. It was truly an exquisite work of art. I found myself wanting to approach him from behind just so I could run my hands across the masterpiece.
As if he felt my presence, Rhett turned, beaming me with a breath-stealing smile.
