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I can do that with Alec LeMarque’s dagger in my back.
I touch my fingers to my chest, over where my locket hangs beneath my shirt.
I’m Mackenzie Malloy, the richest, most badass bitch of you all, and I can do anything.
I toss the photograph in the trash and open my locker. The hinges squeak, and the sniggers grow louder. I turn my back to the corridor. I’m not afraid of who’s lurking behind me. I’ve already met the people who hunt in the shadows, and they’re on my side of this war.
As I pick up my books for first and second period, my fingers brush the knife Antony gave me. I leave it where it is, tucked behind my makeup case. I don’t need it.
Yet.
“Mackenzie.” My name sounds like the dull thud of a bullet striking flesh. I brace myself for trouble as I turn my head just enough to see who calls me.
Elias. He’s pushing his way through the students, shoving aside heiresses and child actors like they’re trash (which they are). His handsome face is tight with concern, that stone jaw clenched, that too-pretty mouth turned down.
A dark twisted part of me – the part that isn’t head bitch Mackenzie Malloy, but a lonely girl who’s lived in a silent house for too long – aches to run to Eli, to have those muscled arms wrap around me and hold me close, to feel those pretty lips brush mine, to know what it feels like to be safe. That’s what Eli looks like to me – someone steady and sure. And it’s not just because of that faint familiarity of him – Eli seems like a person who always has to fix things, to avenge wrongs, to put the world back in order again.
But that safety would be a lie.
The only way to be truly safe is to keep guys like Eli away from me.
I slam my locker shut, ignoring Eli’s shouts. I stalk down the hall, following the snickers toward the grand staircase. I turn to follow the stream of students ascending, and that’s when I see him – Alec LeMarque leans against his locker on the end of the row, surrounded by guys who look like Beverly Hills 90210 castoffs. He catches my eye, and a dark smile twists across his face, creasing the edge of the dressing covering his nose.
I toss my hair. I want him to know how little I’ve thought about what I did to him.
My heel lands on the first step. Alec strides toward me. I move faster, but not fast enough. He throws his arm out, cutting me off. His fingers curl around my wrist – his skin cold and slimy. It feels like he’s crawling over me, inside me. That touch stirs a memory – the glint of a knife in the shadows, dark blood splattered across my reflection, splinters digging under my nails.
Blood rushes to my head, pounding against my temples. Alec leans close, his breath hot on my face. I straddle two worlds – the memory of screaming into the dark, the need to be strong in the light – and when I glare back at Alec, I’m not sure if I’m seeing him, or another, more dangerous enemy.
“You broke my nose, bitch.” If he’s trying to sound tough, he fails. His voice is comically nasal from the damage I did.
“Is it bitch or slut? If you’re going to be so unoriginal with your insults, at least make up your mind.” I keep my eyes fixed on his. “And you broke your own nose. Don’t touch a woman without her permission.”
I stare down at his fingers, still curled around my wrist. I itch to break them all. It will only take a moment, and Alec would be on the ground in front of all his friends, howling in pain. But then I’d be back in the principal’s office, and I am not going to get kicked out of Stonehurst Prep on my second day because of Alec LeMarque.
So I remain still, neutral, ready to strike if Alec decides to make a monumental mistake. I can see the indecision in his eyes – the desire to make me pay versus the social capital he’d lose if he hits me in front of a crowd of spectators. He doesn’t know what to make of this girl who should desire him, who should fall over backward to give him whatever he wants.
“I don’t need permission,” he hisses. “I own this school. I’ll make your life a living hell, and don’t you forget it.”
The urge to laugh bubbles up inside me, but I stamp it down. This pampered ass playing at the bad boy wouldn’t know hell if it stole his fancy car. I know hell. After what I’ve been through, I’m pretty certain I could run the place. But laughing in Alec’s face right now will only bring down trouble, and I’ve had enough of that to last two lifetimes.
“Let go of her.”
Alec stiffens. I don’t have to turn around to know who spoke those words.
Eli.
I don’t drop my gaze from Alec, but I watch Eli out of the corner of my eye as he stands beside me, broad shoulders casual, that half-smile tugging at his mouth like this is no big deal to him. His arm brushes mine, and it’s all I can do not to fling myself at him; that’s how safe he feels.
Alec’s eyes fall to Eli. Ribbons of tension coil between them. This is new territory for me, this standoff. It’s like dogs fighting over a juicy bone. I’ve never been anyone’s bone before. The dark part of me – the same part that remembers the blood splattered on my reflection, the weight of earth pressing down on my tomb – likes it, but only if Eli wins.
“This isn’t your business, Hart.” Alec tries to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. My skin buzzes with an electrical charge – a surge of power clashing as the two of them face off. Or maybe it’s Eli’s arm resting against mine. Maybe it’s the hint of danger in his friendly eyes – that carefully constructed facade of gentility crumbling away to reveal the feral animal beneath.
Eli tilts his head to the side, his tone friendly, his words anything but. “You’ve got your hand on a woman who’s not yours, and violence in your eyes. I consider that my business. Let go of her.”
Alec’s mouth twists up as he weighs his options. Two of his friends step forward, but from behind Eli, I notice a shadow move. Gabriel slouches up to my other side, peering down at Alec from over a pair of aviator sunglasses. With his leather jacket slung over his shoulder and the tattoos peeking out from his collar and cuffs, he looks tough as shit, but I doubt Gabriel would ever get into a fight and risk messing up his hair.
He doesn’t need to. At Stonehurst, power doesn’t come from your fists, and Gabriel has power Alec can’t buy.
