Here Lies a Saint (Here Lies #2) - C.L. Matthews Page 0,39

to bring up nuptials, but she's not pregnant, and her father found mine in the meantime.

This is so fucked. I wasn’t supposed to have a target on my back.

One glance around the front and I see Lux. His face is hung low, but his fists are tight, and I know it has more to do with his anger toward me for not warning him, but fuck, I didn't know.

My mind travels to Justice. He's staring at the stage. Hatred simmers in his gaze but not for his sister, not for Colt, or what this will do to her mental state but because of his father.

I see the recognition there. He was aware of this. There's no shock factor. He knew this would happen. Which means, every-fucking-one has lied to me.

"Colton Hudson, would you please honor me by coming to the stage? We've selected you for the internship of a lifetime."

She doesn't even wipe the black coating her cheeks. Rising from her seat next to Melissa, she stands, rebellious in nature. Loathing pinches her features, but she doesn't say anything. She lets Melissa's hand go. It drops almost like a thud. Zombie-like eyes haunt the assembly room.

Melissa appears absolutely horrified at what has happened and her mental state will continue to dwindle until she accepts her life was never hers, the more she can fight back.

Colt takes her sweet time walking to the stage. There's no fear in her gait, no resistance in her posture, but when she passes me without a glance, I can feel the animosity creeping beneath the surface.

It scares me.

Her apostate nature gets her into problems, much like her brother's, but it doesn't stop her. She doesn't allow threats and her own dismay stop her from revolting the man. It's something I both admire and despise about her. She's risking it all.

For the first time in a year, I allow my heart to feel the apprehension of that fact. Unease is a natural instinct. It makes you human, really, but when the person you care for carelessly avoids thinking twice, every muscle in your body tenses to react. To save. To be more. To not be a fucking coward and face the music.

Before she makes it to my father, I rush her, literally plowing through the seats to reach her. I can't let her do something stupid. It'll be me. I didn't sacrifice for Max, not for Lux, and definitely not Cassidy, but I'll be damned to watch the girl I want be collateral damage for a war she isn't privy to.

"Corpse!" I yell, and she freezes. Hell, the fucking room does, staring at me running after her. I don't dare glance at my father, don't dare see the death he's plotted for me, don't dare look anywhere but at the girl—my girl—and try to save her from herself.

"Don't talk to me," she all but hisses. It's like a fucking spider bite, venomous, deadly, promising me ruin.

"Please don't do this," I plead. It's hushed, quieter, for only us and whoever is nearest. I grasp her arm as if I'm anchoring her here, away from depravity and self-destruction

"It's already done," she bites, yanking her arm free of mine.

But that's not enough. It's not. I reach for her again, gripping her, pulling her to my face. Her jaw is soft to my touch, and she looks at me with hate, displeasure, and, fuck, so much sadness. I can see the betrayals in her pink gaze. There, where she hides, it's visible. She's in more pain than she'll ever willingly admit, and seeing that, her disposition, grates at my heart like a potato peeler.

"Please, turn around. Don't do this."

She stiffens and then offers only despondency. "It's too late, Jordan. I have no rights here."

I let her go, allowing her to leave, and that's when I gather enough strength to look at my father. His immense hatred marred with disappointment is as deafening as a whip in the air.

I'll pay for this.

With my life, unlikely, but definitely with whatever he deems fit.

She steps up to the stadium, my father looking at her in a way that makes me uncomfortable. Like a prized kill on his wall, stuffed and hung for the onlookers, he watches her with interest.

I didn't realize it until now, that my acting out would be fuel to his bonfire, snuffing out all those who dare touch it.

"Please congratulate our newest intern." My father's voice booms over the loudspeaker, and I feel as if with those words, he's signed