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George is waiting on the front steps, talking to that metalhead stoner guy from under the bleachers. She stares at her shoes, talking a mile a minute, which I think is George’s version of flirting. The guy has his back against a pillar, fidgeting with the edge of a band patch on his denim jacket, a waterfall of shimmering black hair obscuring half his face.
Their children will be so adorable.
Wordlessly, I loop my arm through George’s and drag her away. Noah and Gabriel flank us as we stalk down the corridor. Heads turn. Vicious whispers assault us from all sides, but I’m surrounded by a Hadrian’s Wall of don’t-give-a fuck. I’m invincible.
On the inside, I’m a ball of nerves. My spine crawls with spiders. Brutus could be anywhere. He might have eyes on me this very moment, waiting for his chance.
It feels like a literal eternity since I’ve been inside Stonehurst Prep – since last Thursday, I’ve stolen a car and rebuilt it around a water fountain, ruined an asshole’s life, lost my virginity at a secret underwater club, had sex with another guy twice, been shot at, flushed a man’s melted corpse down a drain, threatened a senator, told four people my secrets, and lost the one guy who I’d recently grown to trust would always have my back.
It’s been a hell of a week.
At my locker, Gabriel pulls me against him, his lips catching mine in a kiss that has me seeing stars against my eyelids. His hands touch my face, tangle in my hair, and I lose myself in him completely, forgetting that we’re in the hallway at a ritzy private school until someone wolf-whistles. I come up for air, panting, in time for Noah to spin me around and slam my back into the lockers. His lips crash into mine, determined to outdo Gabriel. I can’t help myself rubbing against him like a cat in heat.
Whistles and catcalls echo down the hallway. When Noah pulls back, I see faces crowding in around him – everyone wanting to get a look at us. Gabriel throws his arm around me and flashes the devil horns as Chad snaps a photo with his phone for the school Facebook page. The two of them have laid claim to me for the whole school to see, making it clear that Mackenzie Malloy has their protection.
In reality, it’s the other way around.
Of course, I’m not Mackenzie, but none of the students know that. Nor do they know that our new English teacher – the one with the neck tattoos and the disfigured face – is actually a dangerous mobster who’s packing a semi-automatic rifle under his desk.
Tiberius catches my eye as I enter the classroom, and winks at me through the gaggle of girls who’ve surrounded his desk. Cleo leans over him to straighten the vase of flowers she’s brought in – picked from the beds lining the school’s driveway, I see. Her skirt rides so far up her tights I get a glimpse of her thong underwear.
And I thought I was a slutty dresser.
Tiberius looks happy with his lot until I mouth, “she’s seventeen.” He stands up abruptly and shoos everyone to their seats. I turn to head to my usual seat next to Gabriel in the back row, and that’s when I see him.
Alec LeMarque.
He’s sitting in the middle of the end row, underneath a display about the Stonehurst Shakespearean Society. His shoulders hunch and he focuses his gaze on his books, which is why I didn’t notice him at first. He looks completely different from the arrogant asshole who made the mistake of pissing me off. The students forced to sit next to him have turned the edges of their desks away. He may have had his forehead repaired, but he might as well be wearing a scarlet letter – R for Rapist.
I’m not prepared for what seeing him again does to me. My body locks up, my limbs shuddering to a stop so I cause a traffic jam in the aisle. Alec looks up. He brushes his hair from his face and stares me down, and I want to run and also to pummel his head against the wall until his face is mush.
He smiles at me – a sinister smile, devoid of cockiness. This smile isn’t saying – I’ve come back to taunt you.
It says, I’ve come back to kill you.
Before I can react, Gabriel leans over Alec’s desk. “Don’t you dare look at Mackenzie.”
“It’s a free country, Fallen.” Alec flashes Gabe a toothy grin.
“We’re watching you. If we hear you’ve touched a girl in this school, Mackenzie will cut your dick off.”
Alec peers at Tiberius, begging him for help. Tiberius reads the situation in my face and leans back in his chair, arms behind his head, a smug smile playing across his scarred face. Alec’s smile freezes as he realizes the teacher isn’t rushing to help him. He recognizes Tiberius from the night we broke into his house and branded his forehead. His face pales, his shoulders stiffen, his whole body goes limp.
Gabriel lets go of his collar and slides into a seat, deliberately placing himself between me and Alec.
“Hello, students. My name is Mr. Garcia, and I’ll be your new English teacher for the rest of the year while Mrs. Berkdale deals with some family business. I know you’re excited to get back to your study of Oscar Wilde, so we’ll begin by discussing the importance of sin and redemption in Wilde’s work, and how it reflects the social and racial landscape of the period—”
“Where is Mrs. Berkdale, really?” Gabriel whispers to me as Tiberius drones on.
“Relax. We didn’t bury her in the desert, if that’s what you’re asking. Antony gave her a generous payment to invent a family emergency and fuck off for the rest of the year. At this moment she’s probably enjoying her complimentary piña colada on her flight to Aruba.”
“Who’s going to believe this guy’s an English teacher?”
“Way to make assumptions based on someone’s looks, Fallen. He’s got a Masters in English Lit from Yale,” I shoot back. “He’s a mobster because teaching a bunch of spoiled prep-school brats pays shit. Now, back straight and pay attention. You don’t want to know what Tiberius Garcia does to naughty Brit boys who act up in class.”
Gabriel laughs, but he swivels his chair to face the front of the room and refers to his notes like he’s actually taking in what Tiberius says.
I wish I could enjoy Tiberius’ English class, not least because Cleo’s lame attempts to get his attention were pathetic beyond measure. But even though I don’t look into the corner once, I can still feel Alec’s presence in the room – a poison gas that I suck with every breath. How is he back? How can he possibly be back?
