Page 168 of Wicked Dreams

Liam and Eli are coming back toward us.

The bell rings, making the five of us officially late.

Ian raises his hand toward my friends, and they stop in front of him.

“Thanks for making me late, dick,” Ian says to Liam.

Liam shrugs. “All part of the plan.”

Ian shakes his head. “What?”

“Our plan,” I say.

Ian spins around. His eyes widen. “You so much as touch me?—”

“We won’t touch you. But you’re coming with us,” Theo says. He crowds Ian’s space. They’re friendly on a good day, but today… today isn’t a good day.

For any of us.

As much as it pains me to admit it, my friends have gotten attached to Margo. And that means they’re in this with me.

Ian holds up his hands in defeat.

Eli leads us to one of the empty classrooms in the science wing. The walls here are thicker due to the extra venting. Liam and Theo follow right behind Ian, and I slow my pace until I’m trailing them all.

This isn’t about violence—this is about scaring the shit out of him so he never so much as thinks about Margo the wrong way.

By the time I enter, Liam and Eli have Ian pinned to the whiteboard.

Theo paces in front of him.

“Just fucking hit me already, Alistair,” Ian taunts. “We all know you’re smitten with the Page girl?—”

Theo slams his fist into Ian’s stomach. Ian grunts, lurching forward. Eli and Liam hold him upright.

I sigh.

“Fuck—”

Theo punches him in the jaw. There’s apopas something breaks or dislocates.

“Shut. Up,” Theo growls.

Apparently, I’m not the only one Ian’s pissed off.

“No faces,” I tell him. I stand back and let Theo get his anger out. After all, the principal only toldmenot to hit him.

Theo readjusts, but as soon as Ian coughs up blood, I stride forward and grab Theo’s arm.

Liam and Eli release Ian, letting him fall to the floor.

“How does that feel?” I ask, crouching next to him. “Kind of like a kick in the stomach?”

He glares up at me.

I wrap my hand around his throat, pinning him flat to the floor. I see red at the idea of Margo in this position, him hovering over her.

I squeeze until Ian grabs at my wrists. He can’t pry me loose.

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