Page 39 of Raise Hell

He is still gorgeous, unfortunately, but looks like he just took a huge whiff of stinky cheese.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Jogging, obviously.” I don’t bother waiting for him to help me up, because there isn’t any point. In fact, he takes a conspicuous step back as I push painfully to my feet. I’m getting more than a little sick of ending up on the ground in front of this jerk. “What are you doing skulking around in the dark like a total creeper?”

“Normal people call it walking, but whatever.” His tone is mocking as his gaze settles on my boots. “Is that what they wear to jog in the special education classes you’ve been taking up until now?”

I brush the dirt and gravel off my backside while trying to ignore the mockery in his smile. “Insult me all you want, but no need to be ableist about it. There isn’t anything wrong with needing special education. I just wish someone had cared enough to identify your needs a little sooner.”

His eyes narrow. “Are you calling me mentally disabled?”

“Only if being an asshole qualifies as a disability.”

Drake takes a menacing step forward. I force myself not to back up as he looms over me. The heat of his ragged breathing warms my cheek, a stark contrast to the cool wind. I smell a hint of spearmint gum on his breath as he speaks in a voice that is low and threatening.

“Here is what is going to happen. Eventually, you’ll figure out that there isn’t a place for you at St. Bart’s and there never will be. The only question is how much suffering you have to endure before reality finally sets in.” He pinches a piece of my hair between his fingers and holds it up like he is inspecting it under the light. Then he yanks on it hard enough that I have to bite back a yelp of pain. “We’ve all been on this merry-go-round before, round and round until it stops at the same place it started. You already know where you’re going to end up. The only question is whether you wake up after the beating next time.”

If I wanted confirmation that Drake Van Koch and Havoc House were involved in Olivia’s attack, then I have it.

If I needed more proof that Drake is as evil as he is beautiful, then I have that, too.

I’m very aware of the fact that we are alone in a deserted part of campus. It’s too late to run, and I can’t beat him in a real fight.

But if bravado is all I have left, then I’m going to use it until my last breath.

“I’m not afraid of preppy losers who wear button-downs shirts and pressed khakis every day. It’s going to take a lot more than a few threats and a Halloween mask to scare me away. Nice try, though.”

He blinks. This close up, I see the burst of surprise in his eyes that he tries to hide. “What mask?”

“Never mind.” Questions swirl through my mind. If he wasn’t the guy chasing me, then who was? Ignoring the stab of pain, I wrench my head back so he has to release his grip on my hair. “I’m going to bed, but feel free to spend all night skulking around campus. It isn’t as if the beauty sleep will do you any good.”

Drake smirks, entirely unfazed by the insult. “Is that because I’m already as gorgeous as it’s possible to be?”

I hate him.

There isn’t anything worse than a hot guy with no sense of humility.

Okay, child rapists are worse.

But only by a little bit.

My gaze drops to the ground in annoyance. He doesn’t need to see the reluctant agreement in my eyes. I see a piece of shiny paper. He must have dropped it when I ran into him. I bend down to pick it up.

“Party at Havoc House,” I read out loud, scanning the invitation. “Tomorrow night, huh?”

Drake snatches the card out of my hands so hard it rips almost in half.

I hope that wasn’t his only one.

“Invitation only, pond scum. And you definitely won’t be on the list,” he bites out. “Must be a real drag to know the whole school will be wilding out while you’re stuck at home. I’m sure you’ll have more fun eating Ben and Jerry’s and watching Netflix by yourself.”

“It’s always a party when I’m around,” I say, forcing a winning smile across my face. A flash of hurt streaks through me, even though I know it’s a ridiculous feeling. I’ve never been anyone’s punching bag before, and it’s not a good feeling, even when I know this would never happen to Evangeline Pratt. The real me isn’t the one being rejected. “Hope you boys have fun jerking each other off all night.”

“One last thing before you go.” The look he casts over me is so cold it practically chills me to the bone. His face would probably be set the same way while choking the life out of me, as if there were no longer a soul in the dark light of his eyes. “Stay away from my sister, or I’ll kill you myself.”

My tone is sarcastic. “Duly noted.”

I turn abruptly on my heel so he won’t see the very real fear on my face. And I force myself to walk calmly away, relaxing my shoulders and putting a light swing in my step as if I don’t have a care in the world.

Once I round the corner of the chapel and get out of his sight, I break into a dead sprint. I don’t stop running until I reach my dorm building and get inside. My back presses against the locked door, heart pounding in my chest as I fight back angry tears.

I’ve only been on this campus for a week, and I’m already public enemy number one.

Why did I think I could do this?

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