Page 47 of Necessary Cruelty

Sixteen

Friday morning findsme sitting in a full cafeteria wishing I could make everyone inside of it disappear, including my closest damn friends.

I had made it clear with as few words as possible that Zaya was completely off limits. Most people probably assume I’m planning something truly diabolical, but none would dare ask me that directly.

Cal won’t stop giving me a shit-eating grin from across the lunch table as he shoves way more food than any one person should consume down his throat. From the way Iain refuses to meet my gaze as he stares meditatively down at his phone screen, I can only assume the news about my inheritance has already been shared.

I’d be pissed if not for the fact that we’re the Vice Lords.

We don’t keep secrets from each other, especially not about something like this.

But that doesn’t mean I won’t wipe the knowing smile off Cal’s face if he lets anything annoying come out of his damn mouth. Just because I’ve decided to accept the inevitable, doesn’t mean I want to hear anything from the peanut gallery about it.

Seriously, fuck Cal for thinking anything about this situation is funny.

And fuck Iain for telling him about it in the first place.

Elliot is the only one who displays anything approaching sympathy, and it isn’t even for me.

“That poor girl,” he says, taking a meditative bite of his sandwich. “She must have really corked things up in a previous life.”

My voice is caustic. “Cork? That’s not even a fucking word.”

“You know what I mean, whatever the opposite of a guardian angel is must have a hand in this. Guardian demon, maybe. Nobody deserves to be forced into marrying you.” Elliot dodges the carrot stick I throw at him with ease and takes another bite. His mouth is completely full, which does nothing to stop him from continuing. “If I were her, I’d tell you exactly where to shove your marriage proposal.”

“That’s just because you have a thing for ass play,” Iain comments wryly.

I have to remind myself that my anger should be directed at Zaya for being so stubborn. Girl doesn’t know a good thing when she sees it. There are about a dozen girls in this school who would be on their knees by the time my mouth formed the M in marry me.

But not Zaya.

Never her.

I could push and push her, but when I hit that wall she has erected around herself there won’t be getting any further. It would be easy to admire her if I didn’t hate her so much.

As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, Elliot watches me with a pensive expression.

“Most people would wonder why you let all that shit in the past mess with you so many years later.”

I glare at him. “You don’t have any idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“I would if you ever let us in on this big secret. I heard about how her mom used to bring Zaya to your house and shit. Then one day, you hate each other. What gives?”

Only two people in the entire world know the true story of what happened between Zaya and me. And one of us prefers never speaking again to telling the damn truth.

And a deal is a deal.

“Does it have anything to do with—”

I wing a thick plastic plate at Elliot’s head. He dodges and it bangs against the wall behind him. “If you really want to know, we can take this conversation outside. You know how I feel about gossiping in public spaces.”

A raised eyebrow is his only response. He knows if we go outside that we won’t be talking about anything. Would I beat the shit out of a good friend for asking the wrong questions?

Absolutely, I fucking would.

Elliot just gives me a crooked smile, because he relishes a fight as much as I do. We don’t need an excuse to pummel each other — sometimes you just need to drive your fists into someone. Catharsis, and all that.

“I’m not sure who I should feel more pity for,” Iain murmurs, gaze not rising from handheld gaming device that has suddenly appeared in his hands. “Zaya, or you.”

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