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“Someone got shot in the hallway, and there’s another guy on the floor with a knife wound in his stomach,” Darryl says.
A proud smile forms on my lips. I fucking did that, and I’m not fucking sorry.
The scarred guy narrows his eyes at Darryl. “Get Tom and Waylon. Bring the wounded to the school clinic. The nurse will know how to handle this. It’s not like she hasn’t seen worse.”
“Yes, sir,” he replies, and Darryl bolts right past Nathan again.
Sir … The scarred guy is in charge?
Nathan walks toward me. “And now I wanna know why you’re here.”
“Like you don’t fucking know exactly why,” I say, spitting on the floor in front of his feet.
“Enlighten me,” he muses.
“Because one of you fuckers came into my room and—” Milo smacks his hand in front of my mouth before I can finish.
“She claims one of us has been sending her dubious texts,” the scarred guy behind me says.
He casually sits down on the couch behind me, legs spread open as he gawks at my ass which is barely covered by my dress. Fucker.
“One of us? Dubious?” Nathan snorts. “Interesting. And now you want to know who? Why does it matter?”
I bite Milo’s hand until his skin bleeds.
He pulls away his hand. “Fuck.”
“I warned you,” I hiss, but he’s already licking the blood off his hand when I look at him over my shoulder.
Fuck.
“One of you fucking came into my room and kissed me,” I say, swallowing my pride.
Nathan’s eyes narrow even further, and a twinge of hate settles on his face.
He turns and glares at the guy behind me and then Milo. Without words, the looks they exchange speak volumes.
One of them did this.
But do the other two even know?
Nathan’s head slowly turns to me again, the intrigued look on his face anything but soothing. “Interesting … Do you even know what you’ve gotten yourself into?”
“I don’t fucking care. One of you did it, and I want to know why,” I bark.
There’s a long pause as he looks me up and down, his eyes slowly swooping over my body like he’s taking it all in and then some.
“All right then, I’ll play along.” Nathan flicks his fingers.
Milo moves away from me and sits on the table to the side, legs crossed.
Nathan approaches me, circling me like a hawk, but when he steps close enough, I’ll bite his fucking head off.
“So how do you want to go about proving it was one of us?”
My nostrils flare as I look around at each one of them, my hands twitching against the tie cutting into my flesh. I have to get out of here. After I’ve figured out who to kill, of course.
I’m acutely aware of the knife in my boot, but how do I reach it when I can’t even bend over without falling?
