Page 92 of Knight

When he does, I smile, stepping out of the shower and reaching for my towel. It’s hard but I get the words out, “You can leave.”

He hesitates, an eyebrow cocked as if he’s trying to see if I’m bluffing.

I’m not. “I mean it,” I can feel his eyes on my head as I wrap the towel around me and I hope he doesn’t hear the shakiness in my voice. This is harder than it seems but after what I heard, I’m on a mission. “You can go.”

“Wait,” he laughs before his eyebrows lower. “You’re just gonna blow me and kick me out like a fucking whore?”

I shrug, filling the cup on the sink with water and washing him out of my mouth. I watch as the water goes down the drain, his sweet, sweet taste with it.

That tense voice is back and I don’t have to look at him to know his jaw’s clenched tight. “Are you fucking with me right now, Rowland?”

I turn around, facing him. “Does it look like I’m fucking with you? I got what I want. I can figure the rest out on my own. I don’t need you anymore.”

His eyes turn to slits and they bore into me like he’s trying to read words on the inside of my skull. “You don’t need me?” he scoffs.

But I can’t even say the words again, and he knows it, the way he’s daring me to say it. “Go.” I turn around to face the mirror, avoiding his eye contact in the reflection.

Still no answer.

SMASH!

Willow’s mirror shatters next to me, that square velvet case falling into the sink.

“If I leave, you’re going to regret this,” he says. “I’m all you’ve got. You call me the coward but you won’t admit that I’m what you want. What you need.”

“And my life is hell when I’m with you.” Heavenly hell.

With my eyes on his face in the reflection, he turns around heading for the door. Looking over his shoulder, he meets my eyes again. “If you think your life is hell with me, wait until you see it without me.”

“Is that another threat, Damien?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be.” And with that, he finally leaves the room, a rolling chuckle going with him.

* * *

Cleaning up my mess is how I spend the last couple of days of my Christmas break.

The mess in the Archibald mansion anyway.

My foster parents will kill me if they come back to find this house in this state and Vincent will throw me under the bus instead of helping. I’m already on a super thin line, bailing on almost all their events. And now I don’t even have Damien to back me up. Still, I stand by my decision to kick him out.

Cleaning up helps clear my head. With some old rock and roll on blast and zero interruptions, it helps me get into the zone while I figure out my next step. Tomorrow’s the first day back at school and I’m not about to hide.

I can’t trust Damien. He can’t trust me. There can’t be anything between us but I can do this all without him. I can figure out which one of these rich assholes started that fire all on my own. There are only so many students at ERA and some options are obvious.

My phone lights up again from across the room and I know it’s the devil himself. Damien hasn’t stopped calling since I kicked him out. I felt like shit when he left and I didn’t expect that. I’m supposed to be feeling great. Like a queen. I got the information I needed so why does it suck so bad?

I decide to forgo the alcohol so I’m ready for classes the next morning. It’s time I give up the rockstar lifestyle and focus on my grades, the one last thing I have to help me get through this mess. But of course, by morning I’m as groggy as I would’ve been had I taken another bottle to my face. Sleep still doesn’t come.

At least I’m up early and I’ll be on time for class. My marks are suffering with how distracted I’ve been but I still have one class I know I have in the bag. Art. Today’s the day we show our masterpieces to Clara and I know she’s excited to see what I’ve cooked up.

When we pull up to the academy, my sister’s standing at the front with her friends and a smile spreads across my face. The first one I’ve had since Christmas Day with Damien.

“Low!” I call to the back of her head when I’m out of the car, hoisting my backpack on my shoulders. She’s wearing a long plaid coat, matching headband and she fits in here way more than I do. Way more than I’d like.

Willow turns around but she doesn’t seem as excited to see me as I am to see her. I jog up to her anyway, wrapping her in my arms with a tight squeeze. “God, I’ve missed you. Two weeks is too fucking long.” She smells like her. Coconut oil and … is that new perfume? It makes me choke but I play it off. Her hug isn’t as tight, squeezy, or comforting as usual, not the one I’ve craved but I’m happy she’s back in one piece. Letting her out of my hold, I meet her brown eyes, my gaze dropping to the shiny smartwatch on her wrist. “Is everything okay?” She looks back at her friends as she pulls me aside, her eyes narrowing. “Low? What happened?”

Her friends all give me a snobby look but since they’re all vying to be part of the Supreme Squad I’m not surprised. It’s a habit at this point.

---