“Ain’t happening. Thanks for visiting though,” I tell Snow.
“Oh, I’m not here to visit you. I’m here to see my wife,” he says, striding across the room to wrap his arms around Sasha while she’s trying to scrub an instrument tray at the metal sink.
“He’s lying,” Sasha calls back to us. “He’s been asking about you every single day, Dean, even after he visits you.”
She leans back against Snow’s broad chest, humming cheerfully to herself as she works.
“Well . . . he’s the best in my class.” Snow shrugs.
“I never thought you’d admit that,” I say. “You know, you’re not a bad coach, either. I wish you’d be here next year.”
I say it lightly, but my stomach clenches up all the same. Losing Snow feels like losing a lot more than a coach.
“We’ve got to get back to the kids,” Snow says. “Even if they’re not kids anymore, we still like to see them.”
He lets go of Sasha to turn back toward me.
“I’ve got a good gym in New York, Dean. You could come train with me. Zane is there—you’ll never find a better sparring partner.”
“If he hits like you, I doubt anyone wants to be his sparring partner,” I say.
Zane Rybakov’s hammer fist aside, it’s a tempting offer. Unfortunately, I owe Danyl Kuznetsov two years’ service.
“I’ll think about it,” I tell Snow.
“I’d better go,” Cat tells me, gathering up her bookbag. “I’ve already missed an alarming amount of classes.”
She squeezes my shoulder and kisses me on the cheek.
“You can give me a proper kiss,” I growl. “They don’t care.”
Cat blushes but kisses me right.
“Young love.” Sasha smiles. “It keeps the world running.”
“You’re still young,” Snow tells her, “and beautiful as ever.”
He kisses her even harder.
I leave the infirmary the last week of school.
I tell Cat to meet me in the Bell Tower one last time.
But first, I have an errand to run.
This particular errand is something I should have done a month ago and saved myself a lot of trouble. Better late than never.
I find Lola Fischer swanning down the hallway on the ground floor of the Keep, accompanied by her perpetual shadow Dixie Davis.
I’d have no problem taking on the both of them, but I’m saved the trouble when Lola ducks into the nearest bathroom.
“I’ll meet you in class!” she calls over her shoulder to Dixie.
I wait for Dixie to amble off an appropriate distance down the hallway, then I follow Lola into the ladies’ room.
Lola, of course, is no fucking lady.
She’s a conniving little bitch too stupid to take the hint the first time around. This time she’ll get the message.
I wait for her to finish pissing, then pounce on her the second she emerges from the stall.
I’m still not back to a hundred percent mobility, my back stiff with freshly-healing scars, but I’m still plenty strong enough to seize Lola and fling her against the wall.
Lola screeches, her blue eyes wide with shock and terror.
“Yeah, I’m out of the infirmary,” I growl. “So you probably should have kept your posse closer. Or better yet—you should have fucking listened when I told you to stay away from Cat.”
“Nothing happened!” she squeals, trying to squirm away from me. “They didn’t do anything to her!”
I grab her by the throat and slam her against the wall again, bouncing her head off the tiles.
“Oh yeah, it was a Sunday picnic,” I snarl. “Other than Penmark’s back massage.”
“I didn’t know they’d do that!” Lola cries.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “You tried to fuck over my girl and now you’re gonna pay the price.”
Lola’s blue eyes narrow. She sneers, “You can’t do anything to me. Don’t forget the Rule of Recompense. You harm one hair on my head, and you’ll get the same thing done to you.”
“Funny you should say that,” I tell her. “That’s exactly what I had in mind.”
Lola stares at me, not understanding.
Until I pull the clippers from my pocket.
“NO!” She shrieks, trying to twist out of my grip.
I flick the switch, the clippers making an aggressive buzzing sound like a swarm of angry hornets.
“Hold still. Or this will get a whole lot messier.”
“No! You can’t!”
“Why not? What are they gonna do, shave my head too? Saves me going to the barber.”
I swipe the clippers right across her scalp, leaving a long bald patch down the middle of her head. A sheet of wavy caramel hair tumbles to the ground.
Now Lola is fully blubbering, all her toughness melted