Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Eve - Present
For three months , I’ve been a paranoid mess. I walk around campus, expecting Christian West to jump out at me like an offensively attractive boogieman. But…nothing. After that incident in the hallway, I dropped out of Abnormal Psychology. I just couldn’t risk running into Christian every week.
I thought about dropping out of ExU altogether, but my pride wouldn’t let me do it. I’d have to slink back to my brother and admit that he was right. He didn’t want me to come here. It’s too risky. ExU is too deep in enemy territory. But in my mind, the reward of a psychology degree from the most prestigious University on the West Coast outweighed the risk.
Until said risk— with a capital R —had his fingers buried deep inside me.
But by some insane miracle, Christian just…lost interest in me. Despite his threats. Despite that ember of fascination in his eyes. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a little disappointed that he just disappeared.
It’s fucked up, I know.
Not that I want him to harass me—because I don’t—but for a split second, I understood why every girl on campus wants to climb him like a goddamn tree. Because beneath the disgust I felt, there was a thread of excitement, too.
I hate myself for admitting that, but it is what it is. I’m only human. And I haven’t been fucked in a very long time. I’m chalking my reaction up to that because it’s the only way I can sleep at night.
Glancing down at the time on my phone, I mutter a curse. I woke up late, which threw my whole morning off, and now I’m speedwalking across campus, thighs burning. Just past the cafe, I hear someone call my name. I deliberately ignore it, because I have two minutes before my ass needs to slide into class.
“Eve!” The voice is louder now, and I recognize it.
Without slowing down, I turn and see my bestie, Skye, rushing toward me. “I’m late for my psych class,” I say, my throat dry. “And Professor Slater is going to eat me alive.”
“Eve, wait.” She rushes up to me, keeping pace. Sweeping a strand of her blond hair out of her face, she puts a hand on my arm, stopping me. “I’m glad I ran into you. I’ve been trying to text you.”
I blink at her, agitation making me twitch. “I wish I could chat. But my class lets out in two hours.” I flick my chin toward the cafe. “Meet you at the coffee shop after?”
I move to continue walking, but she squeezes my arm and pulls me back.
“You can miss one class, Eve.” There’s concern in her wide cobalt-blue eyes. I’ve always thought they looked like pieces of polished sea glass. “This is important.”
The worry in her voice catches my attention. “What? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
I know she’s been trying to get a certain guy’s attention lately—she refuses to tell me his name out of sheer embarrassment—and I wonder if it has something to do with that. Half a second later, I dismiss that theory, though. She looks far too worried for this to be about a guy she’s not even dating yet.
“It’s not about me.” She glances around quickly, then leans in and lowers her voice. “It’s about your brother.”
My heart jumps. Skye has only been my roomie for a few weeks, but we hit it off pretty quickly. Both her parents are dead, like mine, so we kinda bonded over that. Then one night, over a fifth of cheap watermelon vodka, we bared our souls to each other, and I told her everything —my real name, the fact that my brother Sin leads a secret society called Shadow and Ash, how they’re locked in a blood feud with the Burning Crown. I told her every messy detail.
I should probably regret spilling all that, but I don’t. All those secrets were boiling up inside me like a toxic sludge, and it felt good to get them out and tell someone.
“What did you hear?” I ask.
She glances at the psych building, which is just over my shoulder, off in the distance. “Can you miss class?”
Is she serious? Who gives a fuck about class now? The panic in her voice has me on high alert. “Yeah, whatever. Don’t worry about it. I haven’t missed any classes at all this semester. One absence won’t kill my grades.”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble…”
Now she’s worried about that? “Skye,” I say sternly. “Just say it.”
She shifts on her feet, suddenly uncomfortable. “I was just at the coffee shop, in line, and I overheard the people behind me talking…”
“Okay, and …?” I prompt, trying to move her story along.
“I think they were members of the Burning Crown.”
My heart suddenly becomes weightless, like I’m in zero gravity. “Okay, and?”
Her delicate throat bobs. “I think the Sacred Sons are going to make a move against your brother. Soon.”
Oh, fuck . A few weeks ago, my brother and his guys did something really stupid—they killed a Burning Crown member, and in the chaos, nearly killed one of the Sacred Sons, too—Lucas West. Christian’s twin.
It’s a no-brainer that the Burning Crown would retaliate, but after five weeks of nothing, a part of me hoped that was the end of it—that the two societies would go their separate ways, and just…leave each other alone.
“Are you sure you didn’t mishear?” I ask, clinging to that na?ve hope with white-knuckles. “Maybe they were talking about someone else.”
“I distinctly heard them say Savano. ”
My hand flies to the neckline of my hoodie, and I tug on it. Suddenly, I feel like I’m being strangled. “What did they say, exactly? What are they planning?” I ask, dread burning in my stomach like acid.
She shakes her head. “They didn’t say.”
All the possible scenarios swirl inside my head, but knowing the brutality of the Burning Crown, only one of those scenarios really makes sense.
“I think I know what the Burning Crown’s next move will be,” I say, pulling in a sharp breath. “They’re going to kill my brother. It’s the only way they can save face after what happened.”
Skye gasps. “Are you serious? Can you stop it?”
I wish to God I could. My brother is everything to me. Our mom was killed when I was twelve and Sin was fourteen. Grief hit our dad hard, and about a year later, he took his own life. We lived with our paternal aunt and her husband after that, but my brother was the one who really took care of me. I can only imagine how difficult it was for a fourteen-year-old to deal with his own grief while being both mom and dad to his little sister.
“How could I possibly stop the Burning Crown from doing anything ?” I whisper loudly. “They’re fucking invincible. They have money, power, influence…Everything I don’t have.”
Skye takes a strand of my dark hair and smooths it between her fingers. “You’re forgetting what you do have.”
I blink at her. “And what’s that?”
“Feminine appeal.”
I scoff at that. Easy for Skye to say. She’s beautiful. Slim figure. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Great skin. And the worst part? She hates wearing makeup. All she wears is sunscreen, tinted lip gloss, and mascara. That’s it.
Me, on the other hand? If I skip makeup, I look like I’m straight-up dying, which is all the time now, since I’m trying to stay off Christian’s radar. So that’s fun for me.
“So, what? I’m supposed to just walk into Rush House and seduce the Sacred Sons into not killing my brother?” I ask, one hundred percent joking. It’s an insane idea.
Skye plucks at my hoodie. “I’ve seen what you hide under these baggy clothes, and yeah, I think you could.” She steps back and sighs. “I know you think it’s impossible, but you’re forgetting one very important thing—guys are basic creatures, and even the ruthless ones can be manipulated.”
Hmmm.
To be fair, she’s not wrong. Guys aren’t that complicated, especially not the Sacred Sons. Allegedly. From what I’ve seen, they’re all arrogant fuck-boys and maybe she’s right. Maybe that’s a weakness I can exploit.
But as the idea starts to take shape, a thread of doubt snakes through me. What if we’re wrong? What if the Sacred Sons see right through me? One misstep, and it could cost my brother his life.
But then again…isn’t his life on the line anyway?
Glancing down at my plain clothes, I look back up at Skye with a sigh. “So, what exactly would this plan look like?”