Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
COLE
I ’m late. Again.
I swear, I do actually want to complete this degree, I just have a hard time a giving a shit about the subjects I have to take in order to complete it.
According to my parents, it’s a privilege to be able to have the life I have, and I don’t dispute that.
But I’m sick to death of having to live up to everyone’s expectations.
To have to live up to the Aston name day in and day out is no small feat.
To wear that mask, to pretend to be some stuck-up asshole when in reality I’m just… me.
The double doors into the main hall open with a bang as I barge my way through, and I’m just about to open the door to the lecture hall when a hand clamps over my mouth and I find myself being walked backwards. I don’t fight it, I know exactly who it is.
I expected her to come after me straight away for what I did that night in her room, but she’s been biding her time instead, seemingly enjoying me being on edge and waiting for her to retaliate.
I’m shoved into an empty room that seems to be used as storage, and she lets go of me as soon as she locks the door behind us. I turn to look at her—really look at her for once.
When she first arrived, I figured she just didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything.
But now, I’m beginning to think she does care.
She just doesn’t know how to show it. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on her that she wasn’t like the other students here, and while that remains true, I’m almost reluctant to figure out who she really is.
She gets this distant look in her eyes sometimes, like she’s not really in the present, and it makes me wonder what she’s been through.
The way she fights, the way she always carries weapons with her, the way she killed two men in cold blood right in front of me without batting an eyelash… What has she been through that made her this way?
I don’t think she was born this way. I think she was made to be this way.
But by who? And for what reason?
What did they put her through? And how is she even still breathing?
From the looks of things, she has people after her.
How long until one of them gets the better of her?
How long until she ends up just like those two guys in the alley…
dead on the ground, choking on her own blood as she lies lifeless?
The image has my blood running cold and a sickly feeling forming in my gut. I might not like her a lot of the time, but I don’t want that for her.Never for her.
She should get to live a normal life, just like the rest of us. There’s a part of me that wants to help her, that wants to get her out of the mess she’s gotten herself in. I just have no idea where to start or why I even want that.
“What is happening right now?” Lana’s voice brings me out of my thoughts, and I realize I completely forgot where I was.
“Sorry, what?”
Her jaw tics. “Did you listen to a word I just said?”
I rub the back of my neck. “No?” I say, though it comes out as more of a question, and she shakes her head in annoyance.
“Jesus,” she mutters, her fingertips digging into her temples like I’m giving her a headache.
At least now she knows how I feel whenever I’m around her.
Migraine-inducing little psycho.
“Why am I in here, Lana?” I ask with a sigh, just wanting to get this shit over and done with. What’s she going to do? Drug me like I did her? Pull her knife on me? Or a gun this time?
“I just wanted to talk,” she admits, almost like she’s defeated, and I stare at her in confusion.
“You want to… talk?” I ask, the idea of it not sounding right in the slightest.
“Yes, Cole. I want to talk. I know you had nothing to do with the dumbasses who put up those posters around campus, but they did it to get your attention. And then this morning, I find out that they’ve started a damn blog about me, and they need to stop.
You need to get them to stop. You’ve already seen some shit you shouldn’t have, and how do you think it is that they found me, Cole?
They found me because you put me in that damn newspaper.
Luckily, I managed to get it down pretty quickly, but people still know where I am now.
I was hoping it was only a minority that knew my whereabouts and not a certain family, but the more they post online… ”
“The easier it’ll be for people to know where you are,” I finish for her, though still internally reeling at everything she’s just said.
She’s in trouble, I’ve known that for a while, but this… this is bad.
And it’s all my fault.
Fuck. Why do I feel sick? Maybe I’m coming down with something that’s making it feel like there’s a boulder sitting on my chest and is making my throat tighten.
“I’ll get them to stop,” I say hoarsely. “I’m sorry that they found you because of me.”
Her eyes widen, like she never in a million years expected an apology from me. It’s fair, I didn’t think I’d ever find myself apologizing to her either, but the vulnerability she’s showing me… I just can’t not apologize when she looks the way she does right now.
Her hair’s a mess as usual, but her eyes are sunken, she looks so pale she almost looks gray, and it even looks like she may have lost weight.
Fuck.
I’m an asshole. I’ve always been an asshole, but I’ve never regretted anything the way I regret this. The way I regret what I’ve done to her.
“You don’t have class?” I find myself asking, and she shakes her head.
“I’m done for the day. I was on my way to the gym when I spotted you. I need to work out.”
She needs an outlet.
It’s only then that I take in what she’s wearing. She’s wearing gym leggings, a black hoodie, and workout sneakers on her feet. I check what I’m wearing—black slacks and a gray sweater.
We’re complete opposites in every way, yet it does nothing to stop this pull I feel towards her.
I sigh. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”
I leave Lana sitting in the kitchen while I go to change. I don’t know what came over me when I decided to bring her here, but it felt right in the moment.
I quickly change into gym shorts and a T-shirt with the school’s logo on before heading back out to kitchen, finding her sitting where I left her. I half expected to find her rummaging around our things, but she managed to stay put for the two minutes I left her alone.
“This way,” I murmur and head down the hall, not turning back to check she’s following me. I know she will, she’s too curious not to.
I reach the end of the hall and grab the key that stays on the top of the door frame and unlock it. The door swings open and I head down the steps to the basement, flicking on the lights as I do.
“You bringing me down here to kill me?”
“If that’s what gets you going, then sure thing, little menace.”
“Seriously, Cole, why the fuck are you leading me down to your basement?” she blurts and I snort a laugh.
I stop at the bottom of the stairs and turn to see her still standing in the doorway, her hands fisted on her hips with an apprehensive look on her face.
It really doesn’t suit her.
She should never be wary about anything. What happened to the firecracker who can pull a knife on a man twice her size without batting an eyelash?
“It’s a converted basement, Lana. Just come down and see for yourself.”
She sighs, shoots me a glare, and then descends the steps. I look around, trying to see it through her eyes. When we first moved here freshman year, I had no idea if I’d find a place to fight or not, so the guys and I decided to have what was once the wine cellar converted into a gym/boxing area.
There are bags hanging from the wall in one corner, a boxing ring in the middle of the room, and other gym equipment in the opposite corner. Since I tend to fight at the church, and the guys prefer to use the main campus gym, this room more or less goes unused.
The only time it is used is when Logan needs me to spar with him or when I need to get out of my head and I don’t have any other options.
“Huh,” Lana mutters as she reaches my side. I look down to see her head tilted to the side as she takes in the room.
“This wasn’t on the blueprints.”
I chuckle and shake my head. Of course she has copies of the blueprints of this place. She wouldn’t be her if she didn’t.
“Gloves or no gloves?” I ask, and she blinks at me before realization takes over her face.
“You want to fight? With me? Even after I wiped the floor with you last time?” she snarks, and I hum noncommittally.
“Oh, pretty boy,” she sighs. “I’ll destroy you.”
“You can try,” I snipe and raise a brow, waiting for her to answer my question.
A wicked smirk forms on her face and she bounces a little on the balls of her feet .
Is that… excitement? She has another emotion other than anger? This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder.
“No gloves. Any rules?”
I contemplate it for a moment. If I give her no rules, then she’s likely to magically pull a knife from the waistband of her leggings and stab me in the back as soon as I turn away from her, sneaky little shit that she is.
“Standard training rules. And try and stay away from my face, okay? I’m too pretty for black eyes. They don’t go with my skin tone, and you really fucked up my face last time.”
Her mouth drops open and she looks like a deer caught in headlights for a few seconds.
“Was that… was that a joke?” she asks, almost too quietly for me to hear, and it makes me wonder if I was even supposed to hear it at all.
“I’m not who you think I am, Lana. Just like I’m sure you’re not who I thought you were, either.”
“Thought? You don’t think of me that way anymore?” she asks, not bothering to ask what my original opinion of her was. I’m sure she knows it was nothing pretty.
“I’m not sure what I think anymore,” I admit, my eyes meeting hers, and we just stare at each other for a couple of seconds. It’s not like our usual stares; those are normally either heated or full on glares. This is just… us staring into each other.
She breaks eye contact and bites her lip before giving her head a shake as though she’s trying to dispel whatever’s on her mind.
“Let’s go, pretty boy,”she says with a clap of her hands and darts towards the ring.
This could get messy.
I can’t wait.