Lethal Queen Bee (Embassy Academy #2) - Emily Kazmierski Page 0,52

to look at him. I’m still mad at him about the internship, but more importantly, I would never have let him see me all bloodied and weak like this if I had any choice. My resolve hardens. No one will ever see me like this again. Straightening my robe, I lock eyes with my sister. “Walk me back to my room. Please.”

Cal holds up a plain black hoodie. “This is what they put over your head. I’m giving it to the police, when they come.”

I shake my head vehemently, unable to stop the shudder that rolls through me. “No police.”

My brother and sister have never looked more alike than they do right now, their mouths twin gaping holes of astonishment.

“Why no police?” Adrienne asks. “They can catch whoever tried to hurt you.”

Ricardo’s eyes flicker toward mine, and I can see in their depths that he knows why I can’t allow the police to become involved. At least I don’t have to lie to one person in my life, even if he is a thorn in my side.

If I call the police, they might be able to catch whoever did this, but then they’d start asking questions about it. Whoever it was might spill their guts. It might come out that I’ve been looking into Professor Rook’s death. The authorities would be curious as to why a seventeen-year-old girl was interested in a hit-and-run. A simple glance at my credit card statement would unveil that I’d paid to have Cal’s car repaired. The dented bumper and hood replacement would be a dead giveaway. They’d think I killed Rook, for sure.

Bata bing, bata boom. Future demolished.

“I’m fine,” I insist, reaching up to touch my fingertip to my throbbing nose. “I don’t think my nose is broken. No police,” I say again, more firmly.

Adrienne crosses her arms. “Fine, but can I ask Dad to assign you a bodyguard, at least?”

Movement to the side makes me whip in that direction.

It’s Mikhail approaching, alone, eyes flashing with anger. My attacker escaped.

Swallowing, I look back at my sister. “That’s not a terrible idea.”

Mikhail found no trace of my attacker when he did a perimeter check last night. No unlocked doors or windows, and no suspicious figure lurking in any of the surveillance footage. Which means that whoever it was, was already inside. My assailant was either a professor, a student, or worst case scenario—one of the security guards.

So basically every guy I see as I navigate my classes is a suspect to be avoided. I’ve never felt so vulnerable in my life, and it makes me angry. I am a smart, strong, ambitious woman, and one dangerous encounter with an unknown brute has me shrinking away from pretty much everyone with XY chromosomes.

A guy bumps my elbow as he passes, and reaches out a hand to steady me, his apology on his lips. The way my entire body recoils stops him. Frowning, he fades into the crowd.

Immediately, I want to slap myself in the face. Get a grip, Charlotte.

Sighing, I keep moving. This totally sucks.

Plus, I’m beginning to realize how much like a fish out of water Adrienne felt last semester. Not only is my new bodyguard, who is nothing like Mikhail, I might add (apparently Daddy didn’t want another one of his daughters dating their protection detail), I’ve also got two black eyes and a swollen nose. No amount of makeup can hide it, which means everyone in the whole school is staring.

My professors wince when they look at me, and I’m pretty sure none of them believe my story that I tripped when my high heel broke and fell on my face. My new bodyguard, Steve, a middle-aged man who is constantly wearing sunglasses indoors, and who insists on clearing every room before I walk into it, only makes it worse.

By lunch the next day, I’m about ready to hide in my room and ditch the rest of my classes. If one more person dares to gawk at me, or ask me how I injured myself, again, I might scream.

Playing the good boyfriend, Ricardo hasn’t left my side either. It’s terrible. He saw me at my weakest, bloodiest last night, and it makes me want to stage a huge fight and end this masquerade before it gets even more complicated. Usually, I can prevent anyone from seeing me when I’m at my most vulnerable, but last night I had no control. It’s shaken me to the very core.

The only thing stopping me using a

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