Chapter 23 #2
When I murmur a thanks to her as I take a sip, my eyes practically rolling back in my head at the perfect taste, Ash is the one who replies. “You’re welcome.”
I almost choke.
No one seems to notice, or they take pity on me and ignore it, and I get to work on my breakfast. It’s slightly easier to eat around them without the rest of the dining hall to contend with, and I make a decent dent on my stack before Harley ruins it.
“I’m sleeping here until Lance has been properly dealt with. We’re not talking about some little crush here, the guy is a perverted stalker. If he catches Lips on her own, there’s no telling what he’ll fucking try.”
Absolutely not.
That’s just—nope, no way in hell is that happening.
Blaise sleeping in our room for three nights was torturous enough and I’ll never willingly put myself through that again.
Besides, Blaise at least made jokes and played his guitar for me.
Harley would sit and stare at me for hours trying to read the secrets written under my skin.
So I go with my gut and aim for the throat.
I get a copy of the original photos from the Jackal after his tech guy scrubs them and I gag when I realize what the Photoshop has covered.
He also sends me through a little background information on Lance, but it’s nothing Avery hasn’t dug up already.
No, it’s the photo that tells me exactly what I need to know and drives home the last nail in Lance’s fucking coffin.
I’m careful about my planning because I need to get him alone. When I mention it to Avery, discretely while we’re being escorted to class by Harley’s glaring presence, she shrugs and texts me places to consider. It only takes a quick glance to know where it has to happen.
The photography darkroom is the perfect place to have a little chat with my creepy fucking stalker. It’s where he’s been developing the photos he’s been taking of me and there’s a black light in the there for creating special effects in photos. Perfect.
The problem is that, true to his word, Harley follows me down there when I check the space out. When I confront him over it at lunch, he doesn’t even pretend to look remorseful about messing with my plans.
“I’m not doubting you’re skilled with your knife, I’m just saying any guy at this school is twice as big as you and Lance is clearly fucking deranged.”
Ash glances between the two of us and then shrugs at his cousin. “She took down Rory. Don’t baby her like we do Avery, she doesn’t need it.”
Harley stares him down. “She had the element of surprise with Rory and he had his dick out. She’s inviting Lance somewhere and I doubt she’s going to get him in such a compromising position.”
I shudder and pretend to gag. “I’ve seen more of him than I ever wanted to. If it means that much to you then you can keep watch for me, but you’re not coming into the room. I’ve got something very specific in mind for the little prick.”
I’m leaning against a desk when Lance saunters in, though he’s clutching at his ribs I’m sure Harley broke for him.
His jaw is mottled and bruised as well, and his split lip looks pretty painful but it doesn’t seem to be dampening his mood much.
His smile is still a mile wide on his face and he gives me this stupid little wave.
I just stare at him until he stands before me.
“Changed your mind? I’m still up for the real thing, Lips.”
I clasp my hands in front of me and take in every detail of his body, slowly dragging my eyes over him. He mistakes my interest, which is my exact intention, and he adjusts his pants suggestively.
“You ever fuck a member of the Twelve before, Lance?”
He blanches and stutters, “Wh-what?”
I lean forward. “I know you’re happy enough to fuck with a member of the Twelve, but I don’t know if you’ve ever dropped your pants for one.”
He frowns and takes a faltering step away from me. I nod at him, slowly humming under my breath.
“Listen, Lance, you’ve got my attention.
I’ve done my research and I know all about you now.
I know where you live when you’re not here.
I know you grew up in the ‘burbs, you have two loving parents and a little sister. I read your application for the scholarship. It was pretty decent, although not as good as mine. I know your taste for girls runs on the damaged side. You want them broken so when you’re finished with them, no one will believe it when they say nice guy Lance Michael Owens would ever stalk, beat, dehumanize, and rape a girl.
I know the money was a good incentive, but that’s not why you wanted me.
You thought I was just your type, a little foster girl with a tragic backstory.
But Lance, I’m telling you now, you thought wrong. ”
His chest rattles as he begins to wheeze. I nod again like we’ve come to an agreement.
“You’re going to drop out and go home to the Bay.
You’re going to keep your head down and never, ever say my name again.
You’re going to take a vow of celibacy. You’re going to go to bed every night and pray to fucking God that I don’t come looking for you.
You’re going to watch the shadows and remember that I’m watching you.
Because I am watching you, Lance. You’ve gotten my attention and, fuck me, you have no idea how bad that really is for you. ”
The stupid smile on his face is gone. I’m sure his erection is too but I don’t break eye contact for a single second. I wait until the words have sunk in.
“The mistake you made was thinking the guys who beat you are the predators.”
I flick the lights off and the black light glows. Lance’s eyes widen and he scrambles to get away, falling straight onto his ass as he gapes up at me with horror. The whispers in the Bay precede me and tell a hundred stories in the silence between us.
It's only in the black light that you can see the ink that covers me.
The skeletal structure I've had tattooed onto my skin, the jaw opening wide etched in my cheeks with vicious teeth.
Every inch of my body is covered in the whorls and arches that imitate the pelt.
The black light shows that underneath the human facade, I wear the truth of who I am.
The Wolf.