I cringe, pulling away. “Ew, Mom. I could never have a crush on Scar.”
“Maybe not now. But someday, you might realize you did all along.”
Chapter
One
SCAR
“Dead!” My head shakes in rapid movements, making me feel dizzy. “This can’t be!” Everyone speaks at once, but I don’t process the words hitting my ears. My knees knock as I shiver under the dim lamppost.
Riley holds up the paper, her eyes wide with terror. “Someone please explain this to me, and fast.” She laughs, but the sound is completely void of any humor. “Elias Stanton is expecting me to return to the dance any minute, so I need to know how the fuck I’m holding his death certificate, from two decades ago, in my hand.”
I hold on to Crew’s arm, trying to stop my body from shaking, but I’m unable to mask the crack in my voice. “Riley and I trusted that guy. Who the hell is he?”
“My guess,” Neo pipes up, his hands stuffed in the front pockets of his black denim jeans. “That’s Jeremy Beckett and Kenna Mitchell’s son.” He looks Riley dead in the eye. “You’ve been fucking Jude Beckett.”
Constant shivers skate down my spine, as goosebumps prick every inch of my skin. When my eyes lift to Crew’s, I follow his gaze over my shoulder.
He curls his lip in a snarl, his fists clenched at his sides. “Think fast, fuckers. Ready or not. Here he comes.”
“Play it cool,” Jagger says, patting Crew on the shoulder and stepping through our circle. He passes by me and walks straight for Elias—or whoever the fuck he is.
Riley whispers, “I don’t think I can.” I pull her close until our sides are connected, and my arm is wrapped around her shoulders.
“Thought we made it clear you’re to stay away from our girl,” Jagger sneers at Elias.
“Just coming for my date,” Elias retorts, his eyes on Riley. She doesn’t look at him, just curls under my arm, while fighting back tears.
“It’s okay, babe,” I tell her. “This fucking sucks, but it’s the beginning of the end. Now we know.”
All the tears she was holding back spill out violently. I wrap both arms around her, shielding her face from Elias. Her sobbing breaths are warm and damp as she cries into the sleeve of my dress.
“She’s sad her final cheer season is over.” I raise my voice to Elias. “Just needs some time.”
Crew walks past us, joining Jagger, who’s now spitting venomous words at Elias. He slaps a hand on Elias’s shoulder, steering him back toward the building. “Riley and Scar need a minute alone. She’ll find you when she’s ready to see you.”
Elias sputters and shuffles his feet, but he eventually leaves, like he’s been told to do by two of the three Lawless members. Lifting my eyes, I catch Neo’s, who’s still standing here for reasons unbeknownst to me. He doesn’t say anything, just stands with stiff arms and his hands in his pockets. His expression is blank and his olive eyes appear dark and focused as they rest on mine.
“You can go,” I tell him, hoping he accepts the invitation to leave.
He bites on his bottom lip, eyebrows knitted together. “Can’t leave you alone, so until you two finish this dramatic crying sesh, I’ll be right here watching. Just wish I had some popcorn for the show.”
It’s just like him to downplay the situation. Riley and I just found out a guy we trusted isn’t who he says he is. Not only that, he’s potentially dangerous and likely unhinged. Yet, Neo is treating this information like it’s no big deal—just another day at The Academy in his eyes.
“Fuck off,” I grumble, combing my fingers through Riley’s hair. I’m not usually the consoling type. Don’t really do well when it comes to other people’s emotions, or my own, but Riley is sensitive and trusting and her heart was just broken. For her, I’m sucking it up, and I’ll let her cry as long as she needs to, even with Neo watching and tapping the toe of his shoe impatiently on the concrete sidewalk.
“Wish I could, Scar. Wish I could. But rules are rules and now more than ever, we need to abide by them.”
It’s true that one of the rules for me moving into The Lawless house under the guy’s protection is that I’m not out alone, but Crew made that rule to keep me close. Jagger abided by it because he also wanted to keep me close. But, Neo? He’d love nothing more than to stay as far away from me as possible, so he’s not making a lick of sense right now.
“Since when do you give a damn about rules? Especially ones that you didn’t make?”
He pulls one hand from his pocket, a piece of gum pinched between his fingers. His eyes narrow as he pulls out his other hand and slowly unravels the wrapper. “Since things just got interesting.” He pops the gum in his mouth and balls the wrapper until it’s almost nonexistent.
Riley lets go, her cheeks stained with tears that have streaked her heavy foundation. Her eyes are painted with smears of mascara, and one look shows that her black tears have made a wet circle on my dress.
I glower back at Neo, who raises his hand with the balled-up wrapper. He flicks it away, grinning. “Are we done here?”
Growling, I roll my eyes, take Riley’s hand, and walk back to the dance. “What are we gonna do about this?” I ask Riley, leaving our next move up to The Guardian of this place.
"Girls’ bathroom. Stat.”
I’m thankful for that response because she needs a mirror and a napkin before she faces the crowd.
The annoying sound of Neo’s boots smacking against the pavement rings in my ears, and when it comes closer and even closer, I know he’s hot on our trail.
It’s no surprise when he follows us down the hall in the opposite direction of the dance. Riley and I enter the girls’ bathroom, and Neo follows. I stop in the doorway while Riley continues inside. My hands brace on either side of the open frame, pressing firmly against the white-painted brick. “You can’t come in here.”
Neo slaps my arm down and steps past me. “Try and stop me.”
“Neo!” I shout, unsure why I’m even bothering. Neo does whatever the fuck he wants.
I round the corner and spot Riley with her hands pressed to the freestanding porcelain sink. Her head is hung low and her blonde curls cascade around her face. “Ry,” I say, placing a hand on her shoulder, while ignoring Neo’s unwanted presence behind me. I lift my eyes, looking into the mirror, and see him with his foot kicked up on the wall. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin that says, knew you couldn’t stop me. In my defense, I didn’t even try, so I glower back at him. This is all a game to him. He pushes my buttons for a reaction, and I’m slowly learning not to give him one—though sometimes he makes it impossible not to react to his bullshit.
I squint my eyes, my brow furrowed. Quit staring at me.
Neo returns my look, tilting his head slightly toward his left shoulder.
He’s challenging me! God! What are we, children? Regardless, I won’t lose. I won’t look away first.
I curl my lip, refusing to blink. Neo is stubborn, but I am, too.
With a lift of his chin, he bites the corner of his bottom lip, and my breath shakes. The perk of this staring contest with Neo: he’s fucking beautiful. Like a piece of art you pass by in a museum and can’t help but backtrack to it, just to steal another glance. And once you do, you’re lost in it. It’s grungy with torn corners and splatters of nothing—but everything at the same time. Alluring and dark. You can’t make out the story of the piece, but you know it’s been to hell and back. The only difference is, Neo’s been to hell, but I’m not sure he’ll ever get out. He enjoys living in misery. He’s comfortable there.