Page 55 of Snitches and Serpents

Maybe it was a bit too harsh? She got me arrested for a crime that I did actually commit, while I got her arrested for something she didn’t even do.

I clench my hands hard, and anger quickly burns away that tiny scrap of guilt.

No, it wasn’t too harsh. It was simply revenge. With interest.

Elle Summers deserved everything she got.

And she’s gone now, so it’s finished anyway. By now, the police must have informed the university that she has been arrested, and they must have expelled her. I only wish that I had been there to see it so that I could memorize what her face looked like when her perfect life shattered.

Not that I need help remembering what her face looks like. Because I see it fucking everywhere. I swear, she’s even h?—

My thoughts come to an abrupt halt, and I jerk back in shock.

Because I’m not simply imagining her face.

She is here.

I blink repeatedly, just in case I’m hallucinating. But I’m not.

There, across the room, is Elle Summers. She’s wearing a little black dress that hugs her chest and then flows out over her hips, her wavy brown hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and there is a carefree smile on her beautiful face as she drinks from a red plastic cup before laughing at something the guy in front of her said.

For a few seconds, I can’t process what I’m seeing.

How can she be here? How can she look so happy and carefree?

She should’ve been arrested and expelled. I saw her get arrested, for fuck’s sake! So what the hell is she doing here?

Pushing off from the wall, I stalk towards her. The people who see me coming quickly hurry out of the way. The ones who don’t get shoved aside. I flex my hand. Fire courses through my veins.

I’m coming up on Elle’s left, and there is no way that she can’t see me from the corner of her eye. But she still doesn’t turn to face me. The guy she’s talking to does, however. His worried eyes flick from my face, down to the tattoos along my arms, and then up to my face again when I come to a halt right next to them. Opening his mouth, he starts to say something. I cut him off.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demand.

Elle says nothing. Doesn’t even acknowledge that I’m here.

Fury roars through me.

I grind my teeth and level a hard stare on the guy next to her. “Leave.”

He casts a quick look at Elle, but then apparently decides that she’s not worth the trouble, because he turns and scurries off.

Elle scoffs and rolls her eyes. And then she starts to leave as well.

My hand shoots out. Grabbing her arm, I spin her back around so that she’s forced to look me in the eye.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I repeat, my voice hard.

She just looks up at me in silence for a few seconds. Then she points towards her ear before motioning vaguely at the room around us. “Can’t hear you.”

A harsh laugh rips from my chest. Yeah, it’s loud in here, but it’s not that loud.

But fine, if she wants to be difficult, I’ll be difficult.

With my hand still locked around her arm, I turn and start dragging her with me across the room. She lets out a yelp of surprise. While stumbling after me, she uses her free hand to try to pry my fingers off her arm. When that doesn’t work, she tries to simply dig her heels into the floor. But she’s so hopelessly outmatched against me that it makes no difference.

I cast a quick glance towards Paul to make sure that he’s still fine, and that he knows that I’m leaving the room for a while. He has already spotted me, and gives me a discreet thumbs-up in reply while he continues talking to those girls on the couch.

Elle growls in frustration as I haul her up the stairs and towards one of the empty bedrooms, but she can do nothing to stop me. When we reach it, I practically throw her into the room before I stalk in after her and slam the door shut. Then I lock it too for good measure.

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