Chapter 21 #2
Ash starts snapping his fingers, like a bartender is going to appear out of nowhere.
I smother a laugh in my blazer sleeve. My chest aches at being so close to their friendship and playful banter, which is my favorite blend of sarcasm and fondness.
The world is a cruel place to put this so close to me but so wildly out of my reach.
“You know what? Fuck capitalism. If we could be happy with what we have instead of constantly striving to be at the top, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Let’s be fucking hippies instead. Let’s make music and throw away all of our worldly possessions and ask the moon what it thinks about our problems.”
That strikes a familiar chord in my chest. My mom used to get high and talk like that all the time. It’s how I got my name, for God’s sake.
“No, no, I won’t be growing a beard and smoking joints out of a van like a fucking pedophile. Get it all out, though. Bottling it up will only make it worse.”
I tune out their banter, as amusing as it is, to look over Blaise’s classwork.
He’s started bringing in bigger and bigger piles, and it’s clear to me just how far behind he really is.
How he managed to convince his parents and the faculty that he could afford to miss the first few weeks of the year is beyond me.
I’m good, but I’m not sure even I can work this miracle, given how little time we actually interact.
I’m about to interrupt the pity party to suggest we start in on the mountain of work when I feel someone walk up behind me.
I tense, expecting it to be Joey, and a dark, hidden part of my mind expects him to have a knife.
Ash and Blaise fall silent as the chair next to mine pulls back and a student I don’t recognize sits down.
He’s blond and broad, but with none of the grace or stunning features that Harley has.
“Can I help you?” I say, aiming for a light tone.
“Sure you can. I wanted to discuss the sweep Joey started.”
For fuck’s sake. I cut him an icy glare, but he just smiles in return. His teeth are too straight, a fake white row that makes him look like an android. Everything about him makes my jaw clench so hard that it aches.
“Look, it’s admirable that you’re taking a stand and refusing to fuck anyone for the sake of the money.
It shows you have more integrity than the average Mounty.
At some point, someone is going to fuck you and get the money.
Why not give Joey a taste of his own medicine and let me fuck you for it?
I’ll even give you a percentage of the sweep for your troubles. ”
A percentage. For my troubles. I silently weigh my options.
There are three librarians, and two are within eyeline of our table.
If I slam his face into the desk and break his pompous nose, there’ll be too many witnesses.
If I ignore him, he might go away, or maybe he’ll start stalking me instead.
I could call the Jackal and have him murdered in his sleep.
The guy, who still hasn’t even told me his name, slings an arm over my shoulders and his hand ends up hovering over my chest. I have what can only be described as a full-rage blackout.
One minute he’s laughing and touching me, and the next he’s howling and clutching his now-broken hand to his chest like it’s a baby bird.
I’m much faster than he is, and while he’s flailing, I slap a hand over his mouth so the librarians don’t assume he’s being murdered and come over here to stop me.
He could push me off, but he’s too busy losing his shit over his mangled hand.
“What’s your name, asshole?” I whisper. He’s swearing and sweating too much to answer, so Blaise surprises me by doing it for him.
“Mounty, this is Samuel Hanson. He’s a sophomore and he’s at risk of being kicked out by his parents because he’s been caught gambling away his trust fund. Is that why you need the money, Sammy-boy? Run out of funds to feed your addiction?”
Samuel manages to stop screaming, so I let my hand drop away from his face. He’s panting, and his eyes keep rolling back into his head. It’s pathetic.
“Your pain tolerance is worse than a child’s,” I hiss at him, and Ash snickers, but I don’t spare him a glance. I need to make a point with this guy. It’s been too long since I hurt someone for propositioning me, and they’ve forgotten what I can do.
“I won’t fuck you. I won’t fuck anyone at this school, not for a hundred grand.”
“The pot is sitting around the seven hundred grand mark now, Mounty,” Ash drawls. I don’t let the shock show on my face. These fucking wealthy bastards.
“Well, I won’t fuck you for that either, even if my percentage was the entire lot. If you so much as look in my direction again, I will bury you. Do those rumors make their way up here about us Mounties too? About how easily I can and will kill you for insulting me?”
He’s managed to pull himself together enough to kick back into obnoxious rich-kid mode. “I’ll report you, and you’ll be out for this, you little cunt.”
I. Hate. That. Word.
My mom’s boyfriends all used to call her that, or me, or they’d tell me all about my mom’s gaping cunt. I was six the first time I realized what they were talking about. It still sends me to a crazy place in my head to hear it uttered.
“No, you’ll walk your ass out of here, and you’ll do exactly what she said,” Blaise says, and I’ve never heard him so angry.
“See, you’re encroaching on my study time, and she’s the best tutor I’ve ever had, so if I have to beat you senseless myself to keep her here and teaching me, then I will, Hanson. ”
Blaise cracks his knuckles to drive the point home, and Samuel stands. The chair falls as he lurches out from the table and out of my life.
“Is your crisis over now? Can we get started on the important stuff?” I ask as I shake out my hand. The force required to break bones is less substantial when you know exactly where to strike, but that doesn’t mean I’m not paying for it.
Blaise finally glances at me and nods like he didn’t just defend me.
None of us talk about how exactly it is that I know how to break someone's hand using only two fingers.