Page 4 of Savage Vicious Heir: Part Two

Maybe she’s not as dumb as I first thought.

Lauren is about to close the door and allow me to finally go and find Abigail when she thinks better of it and leans in.”You need to be careful, Elliot,” she says and I’m sure I catch a hint of concern in her eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game here.”

“Oh yeah?” I taunt. “Why’s that?”

“Your father won’t accept her no matter which way you spin it. The best thing you can do is forget about the girl and do as you’re told.”

Irritation drips through my veins.

I’ve been doing that my whole fucking life and look where it’s got me.

“Thanks for the advice,” I say, putting the car into drive and pulling away, giving her little choice but to close the door before I take off with it still open.

The journey back to All Hallows’ is longer than I’ve ever known. The second I pull to a stop in my usual space, I all but fly from the driver’s seat as I race towards the Bronte Building.

It’s still early and there are girls loitering around. All of them turn to look at me as I let myself in. A couple move forward as if they’re going to attempt to intercept me, but I’m gone before they get anywhere close.

I take the stairs three at a time before marching down the hallway towards her room.

In seconds, I’m standing before Abi’s door trying to decide what to do. Should I do the right thing and knock, warn her that I’m here, and ultimately allow her to ignore me? Or do I just storm my way inside and force her to face me?

I almost laugh to myself that I’m even considering the former as an option.

Pulling the keycard from my pocket, I hold it to the panel beside the door. The second it beeps and the locks disengage, I storm inside.

“Red, we need?—”

But my announcement is cut short at what I find.

2

ABIGAIL

Tears stream down my face as I drive.

I don’t know where exactly I’m going. All I know is I can’t go back to All Hallows’.

Not yet.

Not after…

God, I’m such an idiot.

A lovesick fool blinded by my own desperation to feel something other than the crippling loneliness I’ve felt every day since my mum died.

I should have known.

I should have realised that someone like Ethan Smith would never really want to be my friend. Just as I should have known that a boy like Elliot Eaton couldn’t be trusted not to hurt me.

He paid Ethan. Paid him to be my friend.

He betrayed me.

Elliot paid Ethan to befriend me, to take pity on me.

I don’t know what hurts more—that Elliot initiated the whole thing or that Ethan accepted.

And to think I finally believed I was more to him than an obligation.

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