front of it, blocking most of the light coming through. I don’t know where the window leads, but voices filter through clearly, as if we’re in some sort of tunnel.
The first voice that speaks I recognize as belonging to Dean Smith. “Mr. Jacobs! Wonderful to see you. I’m thrilled to have your son and his friends on campus.” His voice oozes that sort of sugary sweetness of someone who needs to keep their companion happy.
I guess money buys you dogs who will pant at your feet.
Lance speaks next, and his chilling voice freezes me in place. “Thanks, Rob. That means a lot. I’ve actually come to discuss another student with you though. Dakota Wilder.” He lets my name hang in the air, and I wonder if he knows I’m listening. Waiting here with my heart beating a crazy rhythm to see what he’s going to do next. The wait is terrifying. “I’m just not sure she’s Saint Clary’s material. My son says he’s already had a couple of run-ins with her. I’m not sure you’re aware, but her family has always had some sort of perceived rivalry with mine, and it looks like she’s taking it out on Stone.”
“Oh,” Dean Smith says, clearly shocked. “I’m... I don’t know what to say.”
Stone takes my chin and moves my head until I’m looking straight into his eyes. “Do you see how easy it would be, Dakota? A few words to the dean and your scholarship is pulled. Say goodbye to that other life you dream of.”
I can still hear the voices of Lance and the dean in conversation, but it doesn’t matter what they’re saying anymore. Stone is right. They have all the power. “You’re despicable, and your father is even worse.”
“No, he’s a businessman. He makes decisions based on the good of all. You’re either an ally or you’re not.”
He skims his hand up my arms, past the patch Dickie placed on my shoulder after this morning’s “accident”. He lets his fingers roam all the way around the square pad. His light touches send goosebumps skittering over my skin, and I hate myself for it.
Stone’s lips part as he watches the invisible trail he makes, almost as if he can tell he’s marking me. “Meet us at Devil’s Hole tonight to give us your answer.”
Wyatt and Lucas release their hold on me, and the three of them turn to walk away. Lucas looks back at the last minute before they disappear around the corner. His brown eyes the color of caramel catch mine before looking away again.
Once they’re out of sight, I take in a deep breath. I move to the window, careful not to make any noise to see if Jacobs and Dean Smith are still talking, but I no longer hear their voices. It’s over. Just like that, whatever they decided is out of my control.
I rest my forehead against the stone underneath the weird screen, lifting my palms to place near my head. Why is this happening? First, my father. Now, my life is being infiltrated by the Jacobs.
I slap the stone with my open palm and stand straight again. It’s time for my next class and dwelling on how fucked my life has gotten isn’t helping at all.
I walk out of the secluded corner and immediately run into Dean Smith himself. My mouth drops when I see him, and instead of walking right by, he stops me. “Miss Wilder, I was just about to pull you out of class.” He gives me a look, knowing full well I should be in class right now on the other side of the building.
“I um...” I clear my throat. “I felt sick,” I say immediately. “I was just headed that way.”
“Come with me first.” I follow Dean Smith all the way to his office. He closes a huge wooden door and then instead of going over to the other side of his desk, he leans against it, facing me with a furrow in his brow. “Mr. Jacobs came to see me a little while ago. I’ve been informed you’re well acquainted with the family.”
I wouldn’t call it well acquainted, but that’s neither here nor there. I don’t think many people would understand the depths of distrust and hatred between the Wilders and the Jacobs. I swallow. Bowing my head, a grate catches my attention. The hole pattern matches the window I stood underneath. Well, at least I know where they met now. The not-so-private office of the dean.