Mutual Prey (Bullies of Devil College)

Prologue

“Cass Henley! I’m going to kill you!”

Boots stomp around outside as I crouch against the door.

“Cass motherfucking Henley! You’re dead. You’re fucking dead!”

Goddammit. Talk about bad timing. The last thing I need right now is to deal with that loser.

“Cass Henley!”

I bite down on the urge to tell him to buzz off. That would be downright stupid. He’s probably got a gun, and I definitely don’t. I did, and I put it to good use, too, but pretty much everything has gone wrong in the past thirty minutes.

Now, I’m crouching in a tiny room in the back of an abandoned warehouse with two broken wrists and a corpse at my feet. But I barely had time to admire my handiwork—a bullet hole clean between the eyes—before Finn Austen hunted me down.

“I know you’re in there, Cass! You’re dead!”

Never in a million years did I think Finn would be the one to end me. It’s a pretty pathetic thought. Yet the probability of surviving him is looking bleak right now.

Especially when he starts to fire his gun into the wall separating us, letting loose all his anger.

One… two… three… four…

I can’t think of the last time I’ve really been frightened, but as each bullet makes thundering contact with the frail partition, I’m not feeling exactly calm.

I might even be getting a little nervous.

Five… six… seven… eight…

Somehow, I’m not dead. Eight bullets in the wall, and I’m still breathing. Huh.

Is he truly trying to kill me, or is this some weird form of therapy for him?

Nine… ten… eleven… twelve…

“Fuck! I hate you! I fucking hate you!” he roars.

Therapy, apparently. Finn Austen definitely appears to have some anger management issues.

Thirteen… fourteen… fifteen… sixteen… seventeen…

No way.

I can’t believe it. He just emptied his Glock into the wall. This is the guy who thought he could take me? I bite down on a chuckle when I hear the click as he tries and fails to shoot again.

Idiot.

“Cass Henley!” he thunders. “Don’t you fucking move! I’m coming back to get you, you psycho! You’re dead!”

It’s a good thing my wrists hurt like hell, or I’d be laughing out loud at that threat.

A few moments later, his footsteps die down, and the door slams in the distance. I quickly jump up, holding my broken wrists to my stomach, my skin covered in a wet sheen from the way I’m trying to swallow my pain.

Damn, it hurts.

I hurry out of the abandoned warehouse into the cold night air.

It sits on the outskirts of Astley, in a real no man’s land.

There isn’t a car around, let alone a house.

The road leading toward here is desolate, and I’m not thrilled about the idea of walking all the way back to Astley.

But if I want to survive, it looks like I don’t have much of a choice.

Taking a deep breath, I start the very long trip home. I have an eerie feeling that Finn is hiding somewhere along the road, waiting for the right moment to pounce. Honestly, I don’t understand why he hasn’t killed me already. What the hell is he waiting for?

If the tables were turned, he’d be six feet under by now.

I’m so focused on keeping an eye out for my would-be killer that I don’t hear the sound of the car engine until its lights are blinding me.

That’s not Finn’s car. Is it? No, it can’t be. Can it?

It’s not. Thank god.

I’m so relieved I nearly crumple to the ground. I guess I was a little scared after all. And I’m not so relieved now that I don’t realize how much of a threat Finn Austen still is.

He’s the kind of threat I need to dismantle. For good.

From the car, a familiar voice calls out, “Cass?”

The chubby guy with the twinkling eyes and cheerful smile is number two on my list. Right after his son.

Though seeing as the latter is currently rotting away in the warehouse thanks to me, I guess his dad has just graduated to number one.

“Cass,” he gasps, as he reaches over to open the passenger car door. “I’m looking for my kid. Do you know where he is? Oh my god! Are you okay?”

I arrange my features so that it looks like I’ve been crying.

“No, I’m not okay,” I sob out. “My wrists are broken. And… and… Mr. Campbell… I’m so sorry but…”

“But what?” he asks, his face suddenly pale.

“Mr. Campbell, Finn Austen killed your son!”