link to that article about your parents’ deaths.
I grit my teeth so hard my jaw aches.
Me: You can, but then I just might dump your makeup case in the trash.
Bitchy Bitch of the West: Don’t be a freakin’ idiot. There’s like hundreds of dollars’ worth of makeup in that case. And the case is designer!
Me: Yeah, so? Like you’ve pointed out a ton of times, I don’t really care about that sort of stuff.
Bitchy Bitch of the West: Raven, I swear to God, if you don’t give me my makeup case, I’m gonna make your life a living hell.
I’m about to type back how I’ll hold her makeup case as collateral until I can be certain she won’t send that link to everyone when a guy steps out from one of the alcoves and right in front of me. I slam to a stop but not quickly enough and end up slamming into him.
“Sorry,” I apologize, stepping back. Then I frown.
Zay is standing in front of me, his eyes dark, his face just a shadow beneath the hood of his jacket. He has his arms crossed and a ghost of what some might consider a smile on his face. Me? I know better. Know that the twist of his lips is a warning of what’s to come. My uncle’s lips do the exact same thing right before he’s about to beat my ass.
Instead of freaking out, I calmly move to step around him, but he darts his hand out, wrapping his fingers around my arm.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he whispers in a low tone.
“Fuck off.” I try to jerk my arm back, but his grip tightens. My gaze slides to him. Though his lips are twisted in that frightening way, I keep myself composed, knowing that, if I panic, this’ll go down a lot worse. “Let go of my arm,” I warn.
“Or what?” he challenges.
I rack my brain for a good comeback. Usually, I’m better at this, but Katy’s warnings are screaming loudly in my brain. “Or I’ll slam my foot into your balls.”
He lets out a low laugh. “Go ahead and try. I’ll knock you out before you even come close.”
Goosebumps sprout across my flesh, yet I manage to hold his gaze. “Go ahead and try,” I taunt back. “My bet is my foot will come into contact with your balls before you get your swing in.” I smirk. “I can kick pretty damn quickly.”
His lips curl into the eeriest smile I've ever seen. "Yeah, but can you kick fast enough to get all three of us before I knock your ass out?"
Three of us …
I scan the hallway, and that awesome buzz I had earlier dissolves.
Standing just a ways back and leaning against a locker with his arms cross is Jax. Other than that, no one else appears to be in the hallway.
Where did everyone go?
Did they make everyone leave?
Why?
And why did he say the three of us?
I look back at Zay, who’s grinning, but not in a happy sort of way. No, his grin is all sorts of sinister.
“Still think you can get that kick in?” he questions with a smirk.
Despite the nervousness bubbling inside me, I shrug. “Jax is far enough away that I’m sure I could still get one good kick in before he reached me. And FYI, three comes after two, not the other way around. It’s okay, though. Not everyone can learn to count past two. My nephew always gets two and five mixed up. Then again, he’s two, so …” I smirk.
His smirk broadens. “You should pay more attention before you start smarting off. Because, in about three seconds, you’re gonna feel very stupid.”
“Three seconds? Or two?” I throw back at him, my stomach churning.
He shakes his head, his jaw ticking. “Stupid girl. You do have a death wish.”
My lips part, about to fire a comeback, even though, deep down, I know I should keep my mouth shut. If I had any self-preservation, I would. But I already established that I don’t. That I’m stubborn and have a temper that often makes my mouth do stupid things. It’s gotten me in trouble many times. I used to try to break the habit, but at this point, I’ve given up.
Give up, Raven.
Just give up.
God, how I’ve wanted to many times, and honestly, I’m not sure why I haven’t yet.
“Sorry, little raven,” a male voice whispers in my ear as I feel an arm slide around my waist.
I move to elbow him, but he