Page 49 of Wicked Court

I shift uncomfortably in my chair. His attention never wavers off me as the latest chorus of Sasha’s break-up revenge song bounces cheerily around us.

My breath hitches when he reaches over the table, stretching his hand toward mine. Before I can react, he clasps my wrist, ostensibly to get my attention.

His palm is ice cold. Shivers blast from the area like a dropped nuke, but I don’t complain when they reach my core, cooling the heat that’s been pooling there since he put me in his shadow.

“You look like you could do with a refill,” Axe says, lifting my empty glass with his other hand.

Confusion flickers through me at his unexpected offer.

I blink at him once, then twice, before nodding. “Yes. Sure.”

I watch him push off the table and stride away towards the bar, wondering what the hell he’s up to now.

Despite myself, nervous anticipation chokes me like a vise and I hold my breath until he disappears into the throng of students lining up for their drinks.

The weight of his absence hangs heavy in the space between us, and I keep shivering despite the heat radiating from the bodies dancing nearby.

Just as Sasha strums the last note on her guitar and the crowd erupts into hoots and applause, I feel another cold swipe against my arm. I glance down to see droplets of condensation splattered on my skin and look up in surprise.

Cav, standing sentry beside me like he’s my protector.

Or enforcer.

He sets down two glasses filled with an amber liquid that sparkles in the low light. But just as my survival skills finally kick in and I’m about to stand and leave, his hand grips my shoulder firmly, causing me to plop back in the chair, gasp in surprise, and look up. His eyes lock onto mine—predatory, exhilarating, dangerous.

“Drink,” he orders.

His grip on my shoulder tightens, not painfully, but enough to convey the message that he’s in charge.

“Why? Are you trying to get me drunk?”

My voice is surprisingly steady as I gesture towards the two glasses.

There’s a cloying scent wafting from them. Whiskey, by the smell of it.

My nostrils flare slightly and my stomach churns. “Or have you spiked it in order to get me out of here and lock me up the easy way?” I shift until I’m angled toward him. “Which is interesting, because you strike me as a guy who likes a girl who puts up a fight.”

Cav’s stare narrows, his gaze as sharp as a blade under the moonlight.

His lips stretch into a half-smirk, half-snarl. “You’ve proven you’re not one to shy away from danger. And I’m not here as a servant.” He jerks his chin towards the glasses he’s set before me. “So, drink.”

I take a moment to cast a glance around the room. It’s filled with college students, all intoxicated by the music, alcohol and each other. None of their attention falls upon Cav and me. I don’t know where Axe went, not that he’d provide any buffer.

This was probably all part of the plan: unnerve me, then rattle me.

How long they’ll commit to that before outright snatching me is anyone’s guess.

All I know is, they’re loving the game.

Cav’s hand remains on my shoulder, reminding me I am still very much under his scope.

A part of me wants to bolt from this situation. A larger part of me knows that it’s futile to resist him here in a public place with hundreds of witnesses. Cav’s revered on campus.

As if to provide evidence, my usual group of friends for fun nights out, also here to support Sasha, arrive and spot me almost immediately. Ariel makes her way to me first, but halts the other four the instant her gaze moves infinitesimally to the right and spots Cav. After saying something that barely moves her lips, they all retreat into the crowd.

“So distrusting,” Cav’s smooth voice says above my head.

He takes both glasses and swigs from each of them before setting them back down. “There. If you’re drugged, then so am I.”

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