“He will, and he’ll want blood,” Galen adds.
“We stay away from him at all costs,” Saint says. “We can attend to Sainthood business and use school as an excuse to avoid going near him.”
“He won’t buy it,” Galen says.
“I don’t fucking care!” Saint grips the steering wheel hard as we near the school, and it’s obvious he’s wound up tight, and ready to explode, so we drop the conversation—even though we all understand Sinner will be itching to take us down a few pegs for helping his fiancée dump his perverted ass.
Entering the familiar building without my bestie by my side is a heart-wrenching experience, only made bearable by the guys cocooning me on all sides. The crowd parts to let us pass, and a deathly hush descends.
“Fuck off,” Saint snaps, glaring at everyone as we pass. “Go about your usual business. Now.” It’s clear he’s not asking, and it’s amazing how quickly everyone scurries off, at least pretending like they’re not gawking at us.
A lump the size of a bus lodges in my throat as we approach my locker. Sariah’s was directly across the hallway, and the sight of all the cards, gifts, and flowers adorning her locker almost undoes me. I stop, rooted to the spot, staring at her locker, while pain slices across my chest. I should probably be happy people cared enough to leave gifts and notes, but I’m mostly angry. The majority of these people ignored Sariah when she was a student here, and the hypocrisy astounds me.
“Lo.” A familiar voice has me whipping my head around, and I close the distance to my locker. Sean is standing there with Emmett at his side, both towering over me.
“Hey.” I grab Sean into a hug. “It’s good to see you.” I’ve sent him a few texts this past week, but I haven’t had any response. Emmett told me he’s struggling, big-time, and I’m concerned.
“This is all so fucking pointless.” Sean shrugs, and Emmett shoots me worried eyes. “I hate it here without her.”
My guys open their lockers, watching and listening, ready to step in if I need them.
“It sucks,” I agree, because I’m already feeling her loss, so I can only imagine how awful it is for Sean. There is no doubt in my mind Sean and Sariah were in it for the long haul. They had a special kind of love that doesn’t die overnight. It’s going to take Sean a long time to get over her. If he ever will.
“It helps that you’re here,” he adds, attempting a smile that falls flat. “It helps me feel closer to her.”
I hug him again. “I know what you mean.” It’s the same with Sean, although it also hurts, because I’m not used to seeing Sean without Sariah and it’s a constant reminder that she’s gone. But I can tell Sean needs the connection, and I want to be there for him.
“New ring?” Emmett blurts, his eyes widening when he notices the finger I’m wearing it on.
“Yeah.” I slide the ring onto my middle finger, beseeching him to drop the subject with my eyes. Sean has just lost the love of his life. I don’t want to rub my happiness in his face.
Emmett is no dumb jock, and he instantly gets it, switching the subject. “My sister asks me almost daily when you’re dropping by.”
“This week is hectic, but maybe next week?”
“Cool.” Emmett’s answering smile is wide, and Saint slams his locker shut with more force than necessary.
I roll my eyes. Some things will never change. “Careful, Saintly. Your crazy is showing.”
He smacks my ass. Hard. And I glare at him. “Careful, princess. You know what happens when you push my buttons.” He smirks, sliding his arm possessively around my shoulders. “And I know how much you love being punished.” He eyeballs Emmett as he speaks. “Some might say you do it on purpose.” He smacks me again, and I push him away, snarling. “Because you love when I spank your naughty ass.”
Emmett’s smile fades, replaced with a sour grimace. “I still can’t believe you find that shit attractive.” He shakes his head at me, and I shrug, because I won’t apologize for who I am or what I enjoy. From the way he narrows his eyes at Saint, I know he’d love to throat punch him. I don’t think those two will ever put their differences aside, no matter how much I beg them to stop acting like jealous idiots.
My cell pings with a message, and I’m grateful for the distraction. I pull it out, scowling as my ex’s name pops up on the screen. Great. Just what I need. Darrow Knight riding my ass again. He’s been notoriously quiet the past week, but he’s aware of what happened, so I’m guessing that’s the only reason he hasn’t been pestering me for intel.
Guess my reprieve is over.
“I got one too,” Galen whispers in my ear, glancing at my cell. “Is he asking you to meet?” I nod. “Same.”
“Line it up for Wednesday,” Saint says, eavesdropping on our conversation. “It’s our only free night.”
“I’ll need to give him something,” I remind them, wishing I’d had the forethought to take Dad’s other files from the cabin. He has a bunch of work files—old cases he worked on for The Sainthood—that have proven useful before. The Arrows used the last file I gave them to get one of their guys out of jail. Throwing another couple Darrow’s way might get him off my case, for a while.
“We’ll think of something,” Theo assures me, as the bell chimes, signaling we need to get to class.
The morning drags by, and I’m finding it hard to concentrate. At the start of senior year, I was determined to stick to my goal, to study hard and maintain a high GPA, so my Brown dream becomes a reality, but with everything hanging in the balance, I honestly don’t care that much anymore. Surviving senior year alive is a more worthy goal, so it seems pointless wasting time in class when we could be plotting Sinner’s downfall. Unless I totally flunk things, or my attendance falls below the minimum required, I’ll graduate, and that’s all that matters.
What we do after graduation is yet to be determined. But the world is our oyster. And Brown isn’t the be-all and end-all.
We sit at our usual table in the cafeteria during lunch, but I toy with the food on my plate, having no appetite. The guys don’t push it, understanding the pain I’m in, and I’m grateful they are leaving me to it. Sean barely talks, letting Emmett carry the conversation.
It’s business as usual for the guys, and they’re occupied with a steady stream of idiots who approach the table, providing updates, placing orders, or putting requests in for ad hoc shit. Mostly, I tune them out, gnashing my teeth at a few bitches who are stupid enough to flirt with what belongs to me.
By the time the bell rings at the end of the day, I’m more than ready to get out of this hellhole.
The guys drop Theo and me at the barn, leaving to take care of some secret wedding mission, and I’m a lot less stressed stepping through the doors of our home than I was a half hour ago when leaving school. “Wow. You guys are really taking this seriously,” I say, switching the Keurig on and making a fresh pot of coffee.
“We only get one shot to get this right,” Theo says, coming up behind me and sliding his arms around my waist. “We want to make it special and memorable.”