I know by heart what my motivations are. I just don’t know Stone’s. However, I hardly think you have to be a rocket scientist to figure them out. The shithole she works at and the part of town she lives in is kind of a dead giveaway as to what her reasons are behind her fearless gumption. The girl wants out of the hellhole she was born into and will claw her way out with gritted teeth and sharp nails if she needs to. You have to admire that. But somewhere along the way, Stone must have pissed off the wrong fucking people.
If she hadn’t, then she wouldn’t be on The Society’s radar.
They haven’t made any further contact after their first letters to Lincoln and me, so I’m still not sure exactly what they want with Stone. However, it’s clear she’s persona non grata, enough for them to put me on her scent. If they are as organized and ruthless as legend claims, then they’ve done their due diligence and know damn well I won’t quit until the job is done, whatever that may be. That’s just who I am, whether I’m comfortable with it or not.
Whatever I have to do, I just hope it doesn’t have too much of a blowback on Stone. Not that I care about the girl, mind you. I mean, how could I when I don’t even know her? It’s just, after I’ve had a few days to think about it, I can’t say it sits well with me to intentionally mess with a girl who has her shit together and wants a better life than the one afforded her.
Yep. The girl definitely made an impression.
Can’t say I did the same for her, though, since she had no qualms in demonstrating exactly what she thought of me—or as she so eloquently put it, my kind. To Stone, I’m nothing but another spoiled, rich asshole from the north end of Asheville, who has nothing better to offer the world than to throw a fucking ball.
I guess we all have our prejudices and misconceptions of people just from which side of the fence they’re born on. I have to admit, I’ve been guilty of being just as judgmental as she was. However, the minute I took one look at her schedule and realized I’m probably going to fuck up this girl’s life somehow, the idea of it made me a little nauseous.
But a sick stomach can’t compare with living behind iron bars for the rest of my life.
So there’s that. No matter how shitty this situation is, it can get a whole lot worse. If I have to protect myself and my friends, and ensure our freedom by doing some shady shit to the Southie, then so be it.
Sorry, Stone. Guess you’re on the losing team.
I’m still deep in my own twisted reverie when I catch a raven ponytail with bluish tips bouncing off in the distance across the courtyard. But she turns a corner, heading in a completely different direction than what I was expecting.
Shit!!! Where the hell is she going?
I rush my step, leaping over a stone bench and weaving around the innocent students in my mad dash across the quad. I’m sure none of them expected to see me pull a runner so early on a Friday morning while on their way to class, but that’s exactly the show they’re getting. I’m pulling all the stops just so I can get my ass over to Stone before I lose sight of her for good.
I hear my name being called out by a group of girls curled up together with their iced coffees—or whatever girly drinks are in at the moment—clutched to their hands. Absentmindedly I throw them a wave, causing a fit of giggles to rise from them in the process. I’m not sure if it’s the perks of being me that has most girls acting like they don’t have all their brain cells, or if chicks nowadays are, in fact, just shallow creatures who swoon over any asshole who can score a touchdown.
He’s not even here, and I can already hear Easton teasing the fuck out of me for being so judgmental when it comes to the opposite sex. If it’s not for fucking, I don’t really see the appeal of hanging out with a chick. I haven’t found one who has anything in common with me or is even halfway cool enough to be tempted