and stalks off toward the house, his long stride meaning I have to jog to catch up to him, but I’m not letting him just walk away from me. “That’s a gross invasion of privacy—”
“No, it’s the consequences of your actions. That’s my phone. I provided you with access to it so that I can contact you, not so you could whine to Bassinger about the privileges that I’ve already afforded you. You attend school thanks to me. You have a bed to sleep in, food to eat, access to your Bonds and that phone thanks to me. And what do I receive in return? A brat for a Bond who wants to sit around complaining about the people she betrayed.”
He opens the front door by pressing his finger against a scanner, because of course he’d live in a pompous, avant-garde house in an exclusive gated community, and then he stalks in without so much as glancing my way to make sure I’m following him.
I could run.
The chip doesn’t even matter to me anymore, death doesn’t sound so bad when the alternative is staying here with this fucking asshole of a man who thinks he owns me just because we share a bond. Who does he think he is? Being a councilman doesn’t make him a god, for fuck’s sake!
I’m either about to bolt or tear North a new asshole when I spot the driver, who is now holding the front door open for me with his eyes averted away from the spectacle we’re making, like this is all such a shameful thing.
My cheeks heat.
Would he run after me and stop me, tackle me to the ground, and berate me for being the villain to all of these upstanding men in our society? Now I’m imagining an entire TacTeam appearing out of nowhere and taking me the hell out. God, my bones still ache from when they found me and dragged me here, I don’t want to go through that again.
I step into the mansion and try not to gape at the sight of it. Marble floors, plush rugs, art on the walls, everything looks so goddamn expensive that I’m afraid to breathe on something and break it.
“This way, Fallows.”
I startle at North’s savage tone and scurry after him, trying not to look as freaked out as I am. There’s paintings of a lot of old, rich-looking guys on the walls, probably generations of Draven men, and I feel too freaking intimidated to function.
The hallway is long and wider than my room back at the dorms, with doors leading off to other giant, ornate rooms. By the time we both arrive at the dining room, I can definitively say that I couldn’t make my way out of here if you paid me, and that just might be North’s angle here.
I freeze in the doorway at the sight of the huge table, easily big enough for thirty people, and North takes the opportunity to hook his fingers around my elbow and tug me over to one end, depositing me into a seat next to Gabe, who is already piling a plate full of roast meats.
He barely glances at me but grunts out a greeting to North, who takes a seat at the head of the table to my right. No one speaks and I sit there sullenly, fuming over the phone tapping and the fact that this is my life now. North fills a plate with a little of everything and then slides it over to me without a word.
Controlling asshole.
I don’t want to eat it just on principle, but the moment the amazing smell hits my nostrils, my stomach growls and I give in, tucking into the food.
The table is silent, only the soft sounds of our cutlery gently scraping our plates can be heard. The food is amazing but I can't enjoy it with all of the tension in the room. I kind of want to just inhale it down and then ask to go back to the empty shell of a room I now call home, but with everything that’s happened today, I’m not sure that’s an option.
"How are your classes, Fallows?"
I glance up at North but he's still not looking at me. I push my carrots around the plate as I wonder why the fuck he even bothers pretending to care. "They're fine. I've already caught up. I've made a few friends."
His eyes narrow at Gabe. "Who?"
My mouth drops open. Well, I guess I should be happy