The Ruthless Note: Chapter 19
Serena is already at the table when I head outside the cafeteria. She’s wearing her usual dark makeup, her black hair long and glossy.
I set my tray down in front of her and she doesn’t even ask anymore. She goes straight for the fruit cup that I never eat and that the cafeteria lady insists on giving me.
“Did you hear? Christa’s back.”
“Is she?” I answer dimly.
“I almost feel sorry for her. She’s not on the cheer team anymore. And no one’s eating with her at lunch. After that stunt she pulled at Paris’s party, she’s become a total pariah.” Serena licks the juices that spilled from the fruit cup. “She should have known better than to come at you.”
Those words shock me back to life. “At me?”
“You’ve got Sol and Dutch protecting you.”
I scrunch my nose in confusion.
She nudges me with her shoulder, wielding the plastic spoon that she, also, took from my tray. “You’re the girl that not one but two members of The Kings are fighting for. You’re the very definition of off-limits.”
I blink rapidly. “Did you just say that Dutch and Sol are fighting over me?”
“Aren’t they?”
My heart beats fast. “Did you hear that on Jinx’s app or did it actually happen?”
She nods. “Jinx’s app.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I really need to get that app on my phone so I can monitor the crap Jinx is spewing. At the very least, I should have the app just in case she ever outs my secret to the masses—and I’m not talking about my secret identity.
“That’s so far from the truth that it’s laughable. Sol is just a friend. And Dutch…”
I swallow hard, recalling the feeling of his hot tongue flicking against my neck. You’re going to give it to me. Heat sweeps over my face and along my chest.
I should have kneed him in the groin. But I just stood there like an idiot, panting and shaking while heat curled low in my belly and my insides throbbed for more.
Dutch rips all my defenses to pieces without even trying. It’s infuriating.
“Dutch is what?” She arches a brow.
“He’s a nightmare.”
“So you’re not having a torrid little affair with two members of The Kings at once?”
“No!”
She sighs. “How boring.”
I try to steer the subject away from Dutch before my face gets any redder. “When did you see Christa today? I never saw her in class or at the rally.”
“Oh,” Serena munches casually on her fruit cup, “she bailed before first period.”
“Like ran out of school?”
“Crying and screaming. That’s not on you though. I heard Paris wasn’t too kind when she made Christa’s new position at Redwood Prep clear.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip. I’m not a fan of Christa, but I’m also not completely soulless. “Paris is worse than Christa, isn’t she?”
“It’s not that impressive to kick a girl when she’s down, so no. I don’t think she is. Christa’s the reject who got tossed out of her ex-vice president’s party and publicly shamed by Dutch himself. Redwood Prep is a cruel, cruel place. Once you fall from grace, the hyenas are right at the bottom, ready to tear you apart. For Christa, it’s over. Paris is taking advantage of that. Trying to look tougher than she is. It’s working.”
I sigh heavily. All the Redwood Prep politics is giving me a headache. Besides, I have bigger things to worry about.
Like why the door was open that night after Paris’s party.
Vi insisted that she’d locked up, but I know what I saw.
The key didn’t turn.
The door was open.
None of our things had been taken and I tried to tell myself that maybe Vi thought she’d locked the door when she hadn’t. Mistakes happen. We’re only human after all.
I asked the maintenance guy to change our locks, but the likelihood of that happening is about the same as snow falling in the summer. I’ve already bought new locks. Now I just need the time to figure out how to install them.
“Enough about Christa. There’s a Halloween concert soon.” Serena smiles prettily. “And then a dance afterwards. All of Redwood tends to attend these stupid things. Even the rejects.” Crumpling the lid of the fruit cup, she sets it in her purse.
Serena never litters and gets super passionate when she sees people throwing trash on the floor. Whenever she has trash and there’s no garbage around, she’ll gather it all up and discard it later.
“Are you asking me if I’m going to the concert or to the dance?”
“Both.” Her light eyes sparkle at me. “The two of us are in the music program, but I don’t think I’ve actually heard you play.”
I rub the back of my neck and tilt my face up to the sun to avoid answering.
“You do know how to play, right? You wouldn’t have gotten into Redwood without some kind of skill.”
“I’ve got severe stage fright. I don’t play much in public.” I push my food around in my plate.
“That’s fine. If you want, we can skip the concert and attend the party. And this time,” she lifts four fingers, “I swear I’m not going to leave without you. If Dutch carries you away again, I’m going to jump on his back and tell him if he wants you, he’s got to take us both.”
“He’ll probably call your bluff,” a voice says.
I yelp and whirl around.
Sol is standing behind me. His eyes are a warm, chocolate brown. As usual, he’s wearing a long white turtleneck beneath his Redwood Prep sweater vest. It’s scorching hot today. He must be sweating under there.
Come to think of it. I’ve never seen him in anything other than long-sleeves, no matter the temperature.
Serena’s jaw drops along with her spoon that was filled with the last of her fruit jelly. She hisses in anger. “Damn, that was the last one.”
“You can have mine,” Sol says, setting it in front of her.
Stars in her eyes, Serena glances up. “Thanks.”
“Mind if I sit?”
My heart bangs against my ribs. Maybe it’s Serena’s little comment about Dutch and Sol fighting over me, but now I’m hyperaware of everything I do and say around Sol in case it’s giving the wrong impression.
“I was just about to leave,” I say, gathering my tray.
He cocks his head to the side. “Are you avoiding me, Cadence?”
“Avoiding you? Why would I do that? We’re friends.”
“Great friends,” Serena says, half of the fruit cup already gone. Her mouth full, she adds, “Cadence was just telling me about how friendly you are.”
Sol’s eyes remain dark. They fix on me. “I wanted to ask about your sister.”
“She’s great. Everything’s great.” I back away from the table.
“I thought she was sick. Dutch said she had a surgery or something.”
“Your sister had surgery?” Serena gulps. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It was to take out her appendix. The surgery was successful. She’ll live another day.”
In the distance, the cafeteria door opens. Dutch, Finn, and Zane step out. Paris is with them. She’s sticking close to Dutch, one hand around his bicep.
My fingernails dig into my Redwood Prep skirt.
I force myself to breathe, averting my eyes and pointing them at Sol. “Thanks for asking though.”
“I wish I could have helped more that day.”
“It’s fine.” My eyes, traitorous as they are, flash up to Dutch’s. He’s staring at me from the distance, those two dark honey pits in his face full of warning.
If he comes over—
If he throws me over his shoulder—
If he makes good on that threat to have me begging for him—
I’ve been there before. With his hot hands on my body. With his lips on mine. With desire rushing through me like a flood.
He’s good for the threat.
And after all he’s done, I’m still not great at controlling my emotions around him.
Speeding up, I heft my other leg over the bench and back away. “I’ll see you in class, Sol. Later.”
Dutch doesn’t follow me, but his eyes do. I glance over my shoulder like an idiot and see that he’s sitting around the table. Paris is edging up against him, but he’s not looking at her.
He’s looking at me. Leaned back. Chin tilted up.
The bastard.
I’ve never seen a man so full of himself. It’s obvious the way he sits like a king holding court, the way his lips curl up like he knows he’s planted a seed in my mind to grow and take over. Even the way he runs his fingers through his blond hair and cocks his head just so is irritatingly hot.
I clutch my tray to my chest and hustle into the cafeteria.
Dutch Cross is very, very bad for me and very, very appealing.
But if I ever spread my legs for him, it’ll be a cold day in hell.