Vengeful Sins (Wicked Falls Elite #2)

1. Tucker

1

TUCKER

I always wondered about people who complain when their friends start dating somebody. When they bitch and moan about how things aren’t the same. Like, life doesn’t stay the same. That’s the point. I always thought that was immature.

Now, I’m starting to understand.

Not like I would ever tell my best friend, Briggs, to stop dating his girlfriend Wren. For one thing, I like all my teeth being where they are, which wouldn’t be true anymore if I made the mistake of complaining about her. He’s completely into her—I’ve never seen him like this with any other girl. None of us have ever committed. Girls are fun, they scratch an itch, and they’re good to look. But actually staying with the same one? I’d get bored by the end of the weekend.

I don’t have to understand, I guess. What I have to do is learn to get over having her around all the time. I’ve heard people muttering and whispering about them while we hang out in the cafeteria or outside on campus. Maybe somebody sewed all their clothes together. Do you think she keeps his balls in her backpack?

I kind of like having my friend around and wouldn’t want to visit him in prison, so I won’t tell him about any of those comments.

Still, I get it. And the thing is, none of those smirking assholes have to watch what they say when they’re with their friends, when not that long ago there was a time we would feed off each other’s bitterness and cynicism. It was kind of how we relaxed. Who could say the most fucked up thing?

“I saw Tiana park her car near yours this morning.” Carter grins at me, and I know my balls are about to get busted. “Is there something you’re not telling us?” he asks me.

“Oh, yeah. I totally forgot.” After cramming a few fries into my mouth, I mumble, “She’s totally pregnant with my babies. We’re probably gonna go to Las Vegas to elope.”

“I just thought maybe she wanted to say hi. But I guess there are better things she could do with her mouth.” Just in case nobody gets the idea, he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

“You look awfully comfortable doing that.” The fry I tossed at his face bounces off his forehead, but he just keeps doing it.

The tiny, choked noise coming from the other side of the table makes me look up from my food. Wren looks a little sick before she slides a look toward Briggs, who puts an arm around her shoulders.

“Maybe let’s talk about something else,” Briggs said. “Nobody wants to hear about that bitch.” Right, Tiana threw Wren into a pool not that long ago when she didn’t know how to swim. She can be a nasty bitch when she decides to be. She works overtime at it.

Carter’s face tells me he doesn’t like having anybody decide what he can and can’t talk about. It’s not like I blame him or anything—none of us are all that good at listening to anybody who tells us what to do. But he’s wrong if he thinks I’m going to roll my eyes or shake my head or anything like that. I’m not starting shit over this.

Besides, he should know how important it is to Briggs that Wren is safe and happy after what she went through. Carter’s dad, Paul, has been helping Briggs track down his dad. They haven’t been successful yet.

If my girlfriend got death threats from my dad before he tried to kill her with his bare hands, she would never leave my sight. And, yeah, I might not talk the way I used to if it offended her or whatever.

Wren’s apologetic smile goes wide when she sees something over my shoulder. “Hey!” She lifts a hand to get somebody’s attention. I don’t think she has that many friends around here, which tells me there’s only one person she would look so happy to see.

I would swear I’m moving in slow motion, turning around in my seat and looking at the doorway leading outside. Somebody just walked through. A girl whose strawberry blonde hair looks like a halo around her head when the sun hits it the way it is right now. Only she’s not a saint. She’d probably burn up if I threw holy water on her. What a shame I don’t have any.

At first, when Maya notices Wren waving, she smiles back. The sight of it makes my stomach turn, which is a shame because I just filled it with French fries. I wonder what she’d think if I threw up at the sight of her.

Then she notices me.

I didn’t see a roach crawl across her foot, but her body jolts like that’s what happened. Her face looks like it, too, with her nose wrinkling and her forehead creasing.

Before Wren can call out to her, Maya points to the back of her wrist and shrugs, then almost runs over to the cooler full of pre-wrapped sandwiches and packaged salads for anybody in a hurry. If I didn’t know better, I would think the cafeteria was on fire, and she’s trying to grab lunch before the whole place goes up.

Once I’m satisfied she’s not going to ruin my day anymore, I go back to my food, although it doesn’t taste as good as it did before. It doesn’t have as much flavor. I guess having to look at an evil cunt affects the taste buds or something. The weird thing is, Wren seems like a decent girl, really. Now that I know her a little better, I sort of feel bad for the way we bullied her before.

Why the hell is she friends with somebody like Maya?

Looking at Wren, I see she’s following Maya’s movement over my shoulder. I see her now out of the corner of my eye, paying for her food. She’s so nervous, she fumbles her wallet, and it drops on the floor.

A coward. In the end, that’s all she ever was. Enough of a coward that she can’t admit the things she’s done. When I make a choice, I own it. People like her pretend otherwise.

That’s right. Run away. You’re so good at that. “She needs to leave,” I mutter. As much as I want to look away from her, for some reason, I can’t. I’m glued to her every move. I want her to know I’m watching—that’s probably what’s making her so nervous. Let it. Maybe I won’t have to see her again while I’m trying to eat.

By the time Maya runs away, Wren has gone from staring at her friend to staring at me. “What’s up?” I ask. Not in a bad way, not like I’m trying to start a fight. I’m curious. “Did I grow another head?”

She snorts at the way I pat my shoulders like I’m checking there’s nothing growing there. “No, everything looks like it’s in the right place. I was just wondering…”

“About what?”

Someone needs to tell this girl she might as well write every thought across her face. It’s obvious she wishes she had never said anything, between the way she blushes and the way her eyebrows draw together. “It’s not important. Really, I swear.”

I wonder. Did Maya say anything to her about me? For some reason, the idea makes blood pump in my ears until I can’t really hear anything else. She would go and do something like that, wouldn’t she? She would have to make sure she’s the victim.

I could tell Wren a few things about her friend, but I won’t because I’m not that much of a dick. “I better go. I’ve got Political Science in ten.”

“Oh, before I forget.” Briggs gets his and Wren’s trash together as they stand. He can’t even let her clean up after herself. “I was thinking of having people over at the house. I don’t know exactly when yet, but soon.”

“So long as I’m invited. Just tell me when.” Now that his dad is MIA, Briggs has the run of the house. I never thought much about it before, but there were a lot of times he didn’t want us to come over. I get why. If my dad was like his, I wouldn’t want anybody to witness his bullshit, either.

It’s a sunny day, pretty much the opposite of the mood I’m in when I head for the building at the far end of the quad where my Political Science class is supposed to be. The first day of a new semester. Sometimes that means there are interesting newcomers around, people who transferred in or whatever, but all I see as I cross the quad is the same old faces. I lift my chin to a few of them when they do the same to me. I’m never going to be one of those people who gets all excited about school. If it wasn’t for Dad telling me I need a degree, I wouldn’t bother.

But now that I’m here, I have to walk into the arts and sciences building and go to the lecture hall on my course schedule, where there are already a lot of people waiting for class to start. There are free seats a few rows down from the back, and I take one, dropping into the chair before looking around to see if I know anybody in class.

A couple people have their laptops out, but I don’t see the point. On the first day, professors usually only give us the syllabus and talk about their guidelines. There are still people who will drop this class or register later this week, so what’s the point of getting deep into the material?

As it turns out, it’s a good thing we probably won’t stay in the hall for the full fifty minutes class is scheduled for, since it takes a few seconds before I see a familiar strawberry blonde head two rows in front of where I’m sitting.

Fucking hell. There goes my blood, pumping hard again. There was a time not that long ago when I would’ve liked sitting here. I could watch her without her thinking I’m a stalker. Now? I don’t give a shit what she thinks about me.

In fact, I wish she’d notice me staring. I’d love to watch her try to pretend it doesn’t get to her, the way it did in the cafeteria.

The guy sitting behind her in the row between us leans down to mumble something. She turns her head slightly and gives me a look at her profile. Delicate. Almost fragile. Like one of those old-fashioned china dolls.

Wouldn’t it be nice to smash her to pieces?

I need to stop thinking shit like that—my fists are tight and my teeth are grinding, and it’s probably better if I look at literally anybody else. The poor dude trying to hold her attention is wasting his time, though. I almost want to warn him about her. That he should talk to literally any other girl in this huge room.

If he laughed me off or rolled his eyes, I might have to tell him I’ve been in his place.

Maya’s soft giggle sets my teeth on edge all over again. Something in me snaps. I need her to know I’m here. Watching. Which is why I loudly clear my throat.

The color drains from her face like somebody flipped a switch and, all at once, she turns around to face the front of the room. Good. I would rather not look at her face. It’s bad enough I have to breathe the same air as her.

Just like I figured, the class doesn’t last long. I’m out of my chair in a hurry, but she beats me, somehow, gathering her stuff and slipping past the other people in her row. She thinks I’m going to let her get away.

Instead, when she tries running past me up the stairs leading to the door, I lunge out of my row and bump into her. Not hard enough that anybody says anything, but enough to knock her books out of her arms and send them falling down the stairs. It’s nowhere near what I wish I could get away with right now—there are too many people between us, in my way—but it’s enough to let her know this semester is going to be a real bitch for her.

And if she drops the class, I’ll just have to find out which other classes she’s taking. One of the perks of my dad being headmaster. I can sort of get away with a lot of shit most people can’t.

The thought of Dad reminds me I’m supposed to drive him to pick up his car from the shop. I promised I would after my last class. Instead of going straight to the parking lot, it’s his office I head to, taking the stairs in front of the admin building two at a time. Fuck, there are so many ways to make Maya miserable this semester. And there I was, thinking PoliSci would be boring.

His assistant knows better than to keep me from walking into his office when the door is open, so I walk past her desk without slowing down and go straight into the room where Dad is sitting with his chair turned around, facing the window. “This is ridiculous. The son of a bitch didn’t disappear into thin air. There are only so many places he can hide.”

I think I know what he’s talking about. Briggs’ dad broke into Wren’s dorm room to leave a death threat, then tore the room apart. Dad takes that kind of shit seriously—student safety and all that. Then there’s the fact that Wren is only here because Robert asked for a favor in the first place. The whole thing is too fucked up.

When my foot presses a squeaky floorboard, his chair swings around. He’s scowling, though the expression softens a little bit when he sees it’s me who disturbed him. “I’ll call you later,” he mutters into the phone before hanging it up on the desk.

“What was that about?” I ask, since he still looks pissed.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” He offers me a brief, tight smile that’s probably supposed to make me forget all about it.

“I’m finished for the day. Do you have time now for me to take you to get the car?”

He nods and stands. “I knew having a son old enough to drive would pay off one day.” No matter how he tries to laugh off the mood I caught him in, I’m not going to forget that easily. Even if I know better than to mention it again.