12. Ryan #4
Victor’s eyes narrow. “Walter has spent his career standing behind more powerful men and mistaking proximity for power.”
My smile grows. “My dad is going to be so touched you still think about him.”
“I’ve known Walter considerably longer than you’ve been alive.”
“And somehow you’re bitching about him to his eighteen-year-old son in a high school hallway.”
A few people laugh. Victor’s nostrils flare. “Your father has always had an inflated opinion of his influence.”
“Tell him.”
“I have.”
“And?” Victor says nothing.
I grin. “Went well, huh?”
Kaid snorts. X laughs openly. Danny doesn’t, but he’s breathing again. That’s the whole reason I’m doing this. That’s enough.
Victor looks at me. “This is exactly your problem.”
“I have several. Be specific.”
“Ryan,” Kaid warns quietly. Not because Victor is getting to me. Because he knows that tone. I’m starting to enjoy this too much.
Victor looks me up and down, hunting for the insult that’ll finally stick. “A Labrador born into the right family. Loud, overeager, convinced everyone in the room finds him charming because someone always gives him a treat afterward.”
For one second, there is absolute silence. Then Danny fucking folds. He turns away, shoulders shaking. Kaid covers his mouth. X actually bends at the waist. Iz makes a sound like he’s dying.
Victor’s eyes flash. He doesn’t know yet.
I smile. “Oh, no.”
His brow tightens. “What?”
I look at the boys. Then back at him. “You really should’ve heard the first half of this conversation.”
Danny gets out, “Treats,” and loses it again.
Kaid wipes under one eye. “Jesus Christ.”
Victor goes glacial. “You find this amusing.”
“Extremely.”
“You’re proving my point.”
“Your point is that I’m a Labrador.”
“A spoiled one.”
I grin. “Still not the dog who came when called.”
The reaction is immediate. Phones lift higher.
Someone near the stairs audibly says, “Oh, fuck.”
Victor takes a step toward me. “This is not something your father can talk you out of if you cross the wrong line with me.”
There it is. I stop smiling. Not because I’m scared. Because that wasn’t about me anymore. That was a threat with Dad’s name attached to it.
“You don’t know my father very well.”
“I know Walter better than you think.”
“Then you should know threatening his kid is a pretty fucking stupid hobby.”
“I’m not threatening you.”
“Sounded like it.”
“I’m explaining reality.” Victor’s mouth flattens. “Your father won’t always be able to protect you.”
“And yet you keep bringing him up.”
His eyes harden. And then he goes somewhere he shouldn’t. “Perhaps Cassandra handles the rest.”
Everything in me stops. The boys know. Immediately. Kaid turns his head. X straightens. Danny’s grief disappears beneath something sharp. Iz looks at me. Victor smiles faintly.
He found it. Fucker.
“What about my mom?”
“Cassandra has always had the same unfortunate habit the rest of your family seems to share.”
My voice drops. “What habit?”
“Inserting herself into matters that do not concern her.”
The smile is gone from my face now. “She’s a journalist.”
“She’s a nuisance.”
One step. That’s all I take. One. Kaid’s fingers close around the back of my blazer. X says my name under his breath. Victor sees it. And smiles. Bad fucking move.
“She has made a career of sticking her nose into the lives of men more important than she is and calling it public interest.” Something dark opens inside my chest. Not hot.
Cold. Perfectly fucking cold. I look at Victor’s throat.
Then his nose. Then the distance between us.
One hit. Maybe two. How fast security gets here.
How much video already exists. Whether Arthur can—"
“Jesus Christ.” Iz. Loud. Annoyed. Purposeful. He steps forward until he’s almost between us. Not quite. Enough that Victor has to look at him. “Can we speed this up?”
Victor’s eyes shift. I know what Iz is doing. He knows I know. Neither of us says it. He just put himself in front of the thing I was about to do because he can read the exact temperature of me from three feet away, and he decided he’d rather take the bullet than let me throw the punch.
Victor looks him over. “Walsh.”
Iz smiles. “Aw. You saved me for last.”
“You seem disappointed.”
“Deeply. Everybody else got a personalized character assassination.” Danny’s mouth twitches. Iz gestures at himself. “I dressed up and everything.”
Victor’s attention stays on him. Good. Away from my mom. Away from me. Arthur’s son just deliberately stepped in front of a loaded gun because he knows exactly how close I am to doing something we can’t undo. I breathe once. Then again.
“You haven’t personally managed the same level of catastrophe as your friends.”
“Yet.” Kaid snorts.
Victor’s mouth tightens. “But you are always there. Pennington. Lucian. Reece. Hartley. Every investigation. Every confrontation. Every time one of these boys decides the rules don’t apply to him, Isaac Walsh is standing beside him.”
Iz shrugs. “They’re my brothers.”
No joke. No smile. Simple. And that lands harder in the watching crowd than any insult has, because it’s the only true thing anyone’s said out loud in five minutes.
Victor studies him. Then his mouth curves. “Arthur has always had the same weakness.”
Iz’s expression changes. “Which one?”
“An inability to leave other people’s problems alone.”
“He’s a lawyer.”
“Your father has built a career convincing himself that ruining another man is justified so long as the invoice is large enough.”
Iz smiles. “That’s not how invoices work.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. It was just stupid.”
Victor’s eyes flash. Then he makes the mistake. “And Darla.”
A girl somewhere behind us actually whispers, “Oh, no.”
Iz hears it. So do I. Everybody fucking loves Darla.
Half this school has sat in her office at some point.
The other half has had her fix their shoulder, diagnose their concussion, talk them through a panic attack, call their mother, or somehow appear with snacks at exactly the moment their life exploded.
Victor doesn’t know his audience. “Your mother has spent so long collecting credentials and attaching herself to other people’s damaged children that I imagine she’s forgotten how to mind her own family.”
“What the fuck?” Not one of us. Some random girl.
Another voice: “Dr. Walsh is literally the nicest person alive.”
Iz closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he’s smiling. “Interesting.”
Victor looks at him. “What?”
Iz steps closer. “My dad takes down assholes for a living.” Victor’s expression hardens. “My mom fixes what assholes do to people.” The hallway goes still. Iz’s smile widens. “So I think the Walsh family business model is working exactly as intended.”
Someone laughs. Then another. Victor looks around.
And I think this is the first time he truly understands what happened.
The entire fucking atrium is watching. Not quietly anymore.
Phones everywhere. Kids leaning against lockers instead of moving.
Students crowded behind classroom door windows.
A teacher standing behind three of them with her arms folded.
Two staff members on the far side of the hall who have absolutely no reason to still be there.
GlossX notifications keep vibrating in pockets all around us.
Victor came to Edgewood in complete control. Now an entire high school is watching five eighteen-year-old boys laugh in his fucking face.
His gaze snaps back to me. “This is exactly the spectacle I was referring to.” I laugh.
“You made the spectacle.”
“I came here to see my fiancée.”
“And then called me across the hallway.”
Victor hears him. “Do you boys believe being eighteen makes you men?”
Kaid shrugs. “No.”
X says, “But it does make us legal adults.”
Danny adds, “That’s sort of how eighteen works.”
Iz nods. “Federal government agrees.”
Victor ignores all of them. His eyes stay on me. “You mistake the indulgence of your parents for power.”
I look past him. At Ally. She’s still where he left her. And Bella — Bella is closer now. Not touching Ally. Not speaking to her. Just there. Near enough. Watching.
And suddenly the whole fucking thing is so obvious I almost laugh.
Victor walked away from his fiancée because I wouldn’t come when he called.
Crossed the entire space. Argued with five teenagers.
Dragged half our families through the atrium.
Threatened me. Insulted our parents. All while Ally stood behind him, forgotten the second I refused to obey.
Actually — I do laugh.
Victor’s eyes narrow. “What?”
“You walked away from your fiancée and crossed half the hallway because an eighteen-year-old wouldn’t come when you called him.”
Kaid’s mouth curls. X looks downright delighted.
Danny whispers, “Oh, fuck.”
Iz fucking beams.
I tilt my head. “Which one of us feels threatened here, Victor?”
The atrium explodes. Not metaphorically. Actually fucking explodes.
“OHHHH!” Someone yells, “HOLY SHIT.” A teacher snaps, “Language!” Another voice from somewhere behind us shouts, “HE’S RIGHT!” The same teacher immediately says, “Enough!” Nobody listens. Phones everywhere.
Victor’s face goes completely fucking glacial. For half a second, I see it. Not anger. Humiliation. Worse. I smile.
“Enjoy your little victory,” he says.
“I am.”
“This is precisely why Roman was concerned.” There. His voice changes. Cool again. Controlled. He straightens his jacket, the mask sliding back into place because he remembers there are cameras. “Your treatment of Alison ends today.” I glance toward her, then back at him.
“You came all this way for that?”
“I came to see my fiancée. And after Roman told me what you did, I decided I would make something very clear while I was here.”
I shove my hands deeper into my pockets. “Go ahead.”
Victor’s eyes hold mine. “You will not speak to Alison again. You will not approach her. You will not address her in class, in the hall, at an event, or anywhere else unless absolutely necessary.”