Page 44 of Hateful Lies

Chapter 22

Astrid

Class ended at three, and it’s almost four thirty. I wait in the stacks for Bryce and check my phone multiple times. The stacks are empty as I pace by the elevator. I look in the direction of every sound I hear, but I don’t see Bryce. I pull out my phone.

Astrid: Where are you?

Bryce: Wait for me.

Asshole. The doors to the elevator start to open. I march over, ready to glare at Bryce, but it’s Pierce. He frowns when he sees me, and I’m not having his shit mood. I move past him for the doors, but he grabs my arm and hauls me back.

“Let me go,” I snarl. “Or I will beat your stuck-up ass into the ground.”

Pierce stares at me as if I’m crazy. His short hair is freshly cut, and his tailored clothing fits perfectly. Roni says his uniforms are custom-made. But his lips are thin, and when he frowns, they curl into an unkind sneer. I doubt he fights fair.

He thinks I’m complete bullshit, but I know moves that would bring him to his knees. His grip tightens on my arm, and he takes pleasure in causing pain. Pierce Vanderbilt is the worst type of bully, without a predator to humble him.

“Bryce wants me to talk to you,” he says.

“Let go of me first.”

“Not until we talk,” he replies.

“I’m not staying here with you alone.”

He laughs. “You’re not scared of me. Not with that right hook.” He glares with his eyes that lack sympathy. “I have no interest in your type. I’d jack off in the shower before I’d touch you.”

I look at his hand firmly on my arm. “You’re touching me now.”

Pierce screws his face up as if my arm feels like slime. His grip releases, but he blocks me from running to the stairs. “Astrid, you don’t belong here, which you already know. And you’re soon to depart.”

I maneuver myself near the elevator. “What does that mean?”

“You won money over the weekend that wasn’t intended for you.”

I point my finger in his face. “What do you mean? I placed a bet. Mask won the fight.”

“I told Bryce you were uneducable.” He looks down at my skirt with the hacked-off hem. “No redeemable qualities worth wanting.”

“I’m not sticking around to listen to your piss-poor opinion of me. Who the fuck are you anyway, other than spoiled?”

Pierce blocks my way but doesn’t try to grab me. “Wyatt owes Bryce a cut from his earnings, and he hasn’t paid him. You’re to collect Wyatt’s payment from his room.”

I know what Pierce means though he danced around it. “I’m not stealing. Bryce can ask for it himself.

“He wants you to do it,” Pierce states coldly, “Bryce expects loyalty, and you’ve been everything except loyal.”

“What are you, his messenger?” I ask him.

Pierce smiles with pleasure. “Try blackmailer. If you don’t do this task, I will inform Dr. Rawlins of your involvement in the fight club and of your indifference toward curfew.”

“But I’ve seen you at the fight club,” I protest, “I can tell her that you’re also there.”

He scoffs. “Rawlins won’t believe a tramp. She’d never believe that someone like me would ever go to Weymouth and watch rough people drink and fight for entertainment. The thought would not register in her patrician brain. But I have video of you sneaking back with Wyatt.”

A sick feeling washes over me and settles into my stomach. Not only am I going to get in trouble, but so is Wyatt. I don’t care if they kick me out. I’ll be pissed, but I’ll get over it quickly. But Wyatt, no matter how much I look for proof, Wyatt belongs at Stonehaven.

Pierce knows I’ll do it when I stare at the floor. “You are to enter Wyatt’s room and take it from his bag on the top shelf of his closet. Bryce will leave the door slightly ajar so you can sneak in while Wyatt is in the shower. He always takes a shower in his dorm after his workout. He doesn’t think we all know he has tattoos.”

I look up. “Then after I do the task. Will I be in the Investors Club?”

Pierce shakes his head with an insincere smile. “No, but your theft will be forgiven. And you can try again.”

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