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Penelope’s whole face glows red, and Kayla sees too. She grabs Pen’s arm and drags her away from the crowd, so I follow suit. “So you were there? Did you see the actual fight?” She slaps her hand in front of her mouth. “Oh my God, don’t tell me you’re involved. I told you they were dangerous.”
I step between them, towering over the girl. “That’s enough.”
Kayla’s eyes flash between mine and Penelope’s, but she doesn’t budge. “If you lay even a single hand on me, I’m gonna rat you guys out like no tomorrow.” She grabs Penelope’s hand from behind me. “And I’ll make sure she’s protected from the likes of you.”
She’s got a lot of balls, that’s for sure.
Dylan snorts. “It’s cute you think that threats work on us.”
I lean in. “I don’t even need to lay a single hand on you.”
I flick my fingers.
“Kay, I love you, but …” Penelope swiftly releases Kayla’s grip and takes a step back. “It’s safer if I go with them.”
She frowns. “Those sick boys? Safe?”
“She wants to be with us. Just like she chose to be our plaything,” I add with a smirk. “So I’m gonna give you one fucking second to turn around and walk away.”
Kayla’s expression turns even more horrified. “Or what?”
“Shoo,” I growl, my hand slowly drifting to the pocket where I keep my knife, but her eyes follow. “Before I change my mind.”
Her whole body begins to shiver, and she suddenly bolts off toward her sorority, but not without throwing another glance at Pen.
“I’m sorry, Kay!” Pen yells after her. “You didn’t have to be that much of an asshole.” She punches me in the side so harshly my knees almost buck. “She’s my fucking friend, and I’m not gonna lose her because of your possessive ass.”
“She was a threat, and I got rid of it,” I hiss back, grasping her by the hoodie. “Ditch her.”
“Over my dead body.”
“She’s a liability who knows too much,” I growl.
“I don’t fucking care.” She folds her arms, despite the fact that I’m gripping her clothes tightly. “I trust her.”
Grinding my teeth, I try to focus, but all I can focus on are those plump lips just begging me to show her who makes the fucking rules.
And something about that makes me irrationally angry.
Why do I fucking care so much?
“You trust too easily,” I retort.
“I trusted you,” she says, momentarily catching me off guard.
She … trusted me?
And I fucking broke that trust when I tried to go after her instead.
My nostrils flare. “And look where that got you.”
“Felix Rivera …” A stern voice makes me look up. “Put that girl down.”
Dean Caruso comes walking up to the crowd, and he doesn’t seem the slightest bit amused.
As I place Pen back down on the ground, her whole body begins to tense, and even my veins pulse with adrenaline. But worst of all is the fact that the entire crowd is staring at us now.
Dean Caruso glares at all three of us. “Follow me.”
“Who? Him?” Dylan points at me like I’m the one to blame for his murder.
His father snarls, “All of you.”
Sighing, I glance at the boys before we follow him inside.
“But we haven’t gotten our stories straight yet,” Dylan says.
I shove my elbow into his side and whisper-growl, “Shut up. People are listening.”
All around, people stare at us for all the wrong reasons as we walk toward the big building in the back and head inside under heavy scrutiny.
“What’s gonna happen? Is he gonna kick us out?” Pen asks.
When I glance at her over my shoulder, Ali’s hand snakes through hers, and it makes me want to fish this dagger out of my pocket and throw it right at his heart.
Fuck. Since when did I become so fucking possessive I can’t even look at someone else holding her hand? Have I gone insane?
I shake it off as the dean walks us up the stairs to the top level of the building. Along the way, a multitude of students looks at us and visibly gossip, unafraid to be speaking about us in public. They all knew we were dangerous before. No one just ever expected the cops to get involved.
A familiar face bearing a smirk at the last staircase makes me halt and stare.
“Nathan …” My body feels like it’s about to combust. “You’re responsible for this?”
“I didn’t do anything. I’m gonna enjoy this, though,” Nathan replies, grinning like he’s on drugs.
And fuck me, I’m gonna end this motherfucker’s life.
I immediately go for my knife, but Dylan grasps my arm and stops me midway. “Don’t.”
“Listen to your buddy there, Felix,” Nathan spews. “Or this might get a whole lot uglier.”
“Nothing as ugly as your fucking stump of a finger,” I retort, tilting my head when the anger flashes across his face. “I guess my snake Nessie will enjoy a tasty meal soon.”
