Here Lies a Saint (Here Lies #2) - C.L. Matthews Page 0,97

involves Tennison.

Things are patchy with Ross and the twins, and Ridge? Fuck, I don’t even know what to say about his random ass escape that night.

No one has seen him since. He’s not responding to the group chat, and when I asked Justice about it, he told me Ridge wasn’t his burden. Not sure what the hell he was insinuating with that, but sometimes, I really fucking hated the guy.

I’m starting to wonder if you’re catching feelings, DeLeon. My dick that good?

Fuck off, Walker.

He sends a winky face back, and I head to Lit class, hoping Ross will talk to me.

Trailing down the halls, I’m hit with a sense of dread. This school has been nothing but a fucking hellhole. Much like the Edgington Estate, it offers nothing and takes it all.

As I pass the students in this place, I’m well aware of how little I care about them anymore. Before, when I first became student body president, all I wanted to do was honor Cassidy’s legacy, be hope, light, and strive for a better future. Now, all I want is for them to take all their greed and shove it up their asses.

A shoulder hits me, nearly making me fall. If I had anything in my hands other than my phone, I’d have dropped it, but when my eyes rake the frame in front of me, I’m shocked to see Gilbert Longhorn, one of my Flankers on the team, glaring at me.

“The fuck is your problem, Gilbert?”

His nostrils flare as he drags his gaze down me like I’m some parasite. “You’re such a fucking sellout, Lux.”

Not a single word he’s spit at me makes sense.

“What are you talking about?” I demand as he squares his shoulders. We almost start doing a circle dance. “You’re confusing me.”

“You, fucker,” he hisses, reaching for the collar of my shirt.

I sidestep him out of reservation. If my dad heard of me starting a fight, let alone being involved in one, he’d beat me until I couldn’t breathe anymore.

“How could you?” he growls.

“You’ve got to be more specific. Did I fuck your girl or something?”

He roars, coming for me, his fist barely grazing my cheek as I try moving. “No, you piece of shit. You’ve cost us the season!”

That’s when it hits me. Our season hasn’t even started, and he’s definitely talking rugby.

“Could you calm the fuck down and explain what it is you think I’ve done?” I run a hand through my hair, my anxiety rising with every breath. No one has ever risked their wellbeing to start a fight with me, and it shocks me that this kid decided today would be the day that changed.

“Rimbaur didn’t specify. She just said you can thank Lennox DeLeon for why the season is canceled.”

I stare at him and notice all the onlookers, teammates, and faculty standing here, just staring like I have an answer, which I don’t. I go to sidestep him, but he grabs my arm. I shake him off aggressively.

“Nothing to say, DeLeon?”

“No, I’m not sure why she said what she did, but you bet your ass I’ll figure it out.”

He shakes his head, the disappointment in his gesture more annoying than upsetting. I don’t give a shit what this loser thinks, but I do care about the fact that my season has been derailed without an explanation.

The surrounding onlookers make a path for me as I head toward the dean’s office. What the fuck is she talking about? For once, putting any blame on a single entity is tragic and uncalled for.

Did she tell him directly?

What else more is there to this story?

When I come to her door, I knock. After I take in a few breaths, I tap my knuckles against the door once more.

It’s not usual for her to be elsewhere, and her door usually isn’t shut either while she’s in office. Wanting to see if she’s hiding, or better yet, gone, I open the door. If she’s gone, I can definitely snoop what made her come to the conclusion she did.

The lights are off, and I’m overjoyed with my luck. Closing the door behind me, I lock it, maneuvering in the dark for the switch. Finding it, I flick it up and immediately wish I hadn’t.

Behind me, where her designated bathroom is, she’s sitting.

But she’s not breathing.

How could you possibly know that, Lux?

Blood.

A fucking lot of it.

She’s in her desk chair, halfway through the bathroom door. Her throat is slashed, and there’s no way it’ll look good for