Malice

I’ll kill him for sure now. Except I won’t need a fire to do it. I’ll use my bare hands and choke the life out of him.

All the adults look even more u

“I … suppose that makes some twisted kind of sense,” he says, yanking uncomfortably at his tie.

God, is he serious?

Mrs. Wilmer forces a smile, her lashes fluttering wildly as she stutters a response, “Y-yes, I think so too.”

He is serious. In fact, they’re all fucking serious.

Aldridge turns to the cops who had just joined us and says, “Let’s go to my office and we can discuss our next moves.”

They look irritated with this shitshow, but they both follow Headmaster Aldridge and Mrs. Wilmer out of the room. None of them bother to look back at me or apologize. I shouldn’t be surprised, but it pisses me off all the same.

Officers Fallon and Meyers share a glance, and I can see they don’t buy the bullshit we’re feeding them. There’s not much they can do without Aldridge backing them up, though, so they begin moving toward the door themselves.

Just before they step out into the hall, Officer Fallon turns back around to inform me, “We called your guardian before we came in, by the way. She’s aware of everything.”

From their perspective, sure, but I’m going to call Carley as soon as I can get my hands on a phone and explain what really went down here. She’ll have my back because she always does.

“You’re free to go for now,” Officer Meyers grumbles before he and his partner disappear from sight.

Once the room has cleared, I can finally breathe again. I look up and catch Saint studying me. He’s moved his hand from my chair and his stare is no longer taunting but concentrated as his teeth drag over his bottom lip. I’m so angry at him, I could snatch his eyes out and stuff them down his throat, but I’m also begrudgingly grateful. If he hadn’t intervened and told everyone that I’m a sex fiend with zero self-control, I’d likely be on my way to jail right now.

It’s a sobering thought—one I had hoped to never have again. I’ve never wanted to follow in Je

At least not this time.

Without a word, Saint pivots and stalks out the door, and I scramble to my feet to go after him. I won’t scream at him in the administration building, but he’s not getting away from me just yet.

He has too much explaining to do.

We walk in silence across campus, me trailing just behind him as the breeze fills my senses with nothing but ash and destruction. When we reach the middle of the quad, just outside the dining hall, he abruptly stops and spins around to face me. I stumble to a halt myself, gazing up at him uncertainly.

“Liam’s alive,” he coldly informs me, a muscle spasming in his jaw. “He wasn’t in the building.”

A huge exhale of relief rushes past my lips, and I almost burst into tears right then and there. “Thank God.”

He gives a derisive snort. “Yeah, I figured you’d like to hear he was still alive and kicking.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “No shit I’m happy to hear that, you dick. I wouldn’t want Liam dead. I don’t even want you dead, and you’ve put me through hell this year!”

“You put yourself through it when you didn’t take my advice.”

Gritting my teeth, I search his frigid gaze for the boy that I woke up next to this morning, but he’s gone. Maybe he was never there at all.

“Who was it that did die in the fire?” I ask after a moment. My heart twists at the idea of the poor souls, trapped and alone as they suffered such a horrible death. No one deserves that.

Since he’s a heartless bastard, Saint simply rolls his shoulders. “Don’t know, don’t really care. It’s unfortunate, but everyone’s got to go sometime, right?”

“God, you’re a monster.”

He cocks a brow. “That’s never been a question, has it? You’ve known that from the start. Didn’t seem to bother you when I was climbing between your thighs, huh? If I remember correctly, you begged for regular fuckings from the big, bad monster.”

I swear I can hear the blood rushing through my head as I meet his unrelenting stare. “Why are you doing this to me?”

He suddenly pulls his phone out of his pocket, examines the screen for a moment, then hollows in his cheeks. “My ride’s here.” He turns to leave, but I lunge forward and wrap my fingers around his arm to hold him in place.

A jolt shoots through my fingers and up to my shoulder at the feel of his warm skin. I’m a fucking moron to still feel sparks with him. I ignore the sensation and do my best to keep my expression focused and angry.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I snarl. “I deserve some answers from you.”

He groans, as if put out, and shakes himself from my hold. Turning so that we’re toe-to-toe, his face becomes a cold mask. “Make it quick. My dad’s driver is waiting for me.”

Evil, entitled prick.

“Why’d you lie for me in there?” I demand. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

He folds his arm across his wide chest but doesn’t say a word.

So, it’s like that, huh? He’s going to blatantly disregard my question. I hiss out a breath because I recognize the stubborn set of his jaw and defiant tilt of his head. I’m not going to get anywhere if I try to pursue that question further, and it’s just a waste of breath and energy and time.

“Fine, you pigheaded piece of shit. If you won’t tell me why you covered for me and made me look like the campus mattress, then tell me where you actually were tonight. You know, just in case there’s someone who’s going to call bull on what you said.”

Something flashes behind his eyes—something I can’t identify that takes hold of my chest—but his voice is cool as frost when he answers, “With Laurel.”

“O-oh.”

But he doesn’t stop there. Oh no, that would be too kind.

“More specifically, inside of Laurel.” At my gasp, a suggestive grin curves the corners of his lips. “She finally gave it up to celebrate our success tonight. But don’t worry, little masochist, that bitch won’t do anything without my permission. She’s a much more obedient toy, and I’m rather enjoying her submission.”

If he had slapped me, the sting wouldn’t have hurt this much. But the thing is that despite his smile, his expression is tight. Forced. A part of me thinks he’s lying, but maybe that’s just my silly, masochistic heart hoping he wouldn’t really do what he’s claiming. He wouldn’t really sleep with the only other person I hate more than him. He wouldn’t throw me over so easily and hop into someone else’s bed when I was just in his this morning.

“Don’t look so goddamn shocked, Ellis,” he drawls. “You knew all along that you were nothing but three holes and a set of—”

I slam my hands against his chest with all my might, but when I draw back to hit him, he catches my wrist, hauling me to him. For a long pause, neither of us move an inch. His face hovers over mine, his furious exhales exploding against my skin and mingling with my own harsh breaths. When he releases me, he takes a step backward, clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists by his sides.