Page 66 of Don't Look Away

“Not a problem.” His gaze flicks to the file, then back up to my face. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t let anyone know you have that file. The Rush family and the Burning Crown will do just about anything to protect their secrets.”

With a stiff nod, I take a step back. “Thanks.”

“Be careful,” he says, then drives off.

The second he’s gone, I rush to the library, practically running across campus. My heart feels like a jackhammer against my rubs as I enter the library and look for a private spot. It’s the middle of the day, so there aren’t many people in here, and there are several desks available. I chose the one at the far end of the open room.

Settling in, I suck in a deep breath, then open the file. I feel a little faint, actually, and for a split second, I ask myself if I really want to know…

My gaze settles on the first sheet of paper and the photograph in the upper right-hand corner. A familiar face stares back up at me—cold and emotionless—and I swear to God, it feels like my soul is actually snatched violently out of my body. I reel back with a gasp, and shut the file abruptly, tears springing to my eyes.

No.There’s no possible way.

It takes several minutes for me to get my shit together, and calm down. It was just the shock of it. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw, and it took me by surprise. Steadying my breath, I brush away the tears, and straighten, staring at the file like I’m facing a live cobra.

Before I chicken out, I open the file again and start paging through it. Dave was very thorough, and he laid out all the information on Roman and his family meticulously, like an unfolding story. A fucking horrifying story withmeat the center of it all.

As I page through everything, my heart is beating so hard, I can hear it pounding in my own ears. I’m feeling a little faint as all of this information comes at me like a fucking freight train—scholarship information, tax information, articles, police reports…it’s all here. Undeniable. With each file, my blood pressure rises, and a whole host of emotions pulse through me: Shock. Confusion. Disbelief. Anger.Rage.

It’s the rage that slithers through me like a living thing, twisting around my heart, and squeezing out any compassion I ever felt for Roman-fucking-Rush.

Gathering up the papers, I shuffle them back into the folder, then grab my backpack and sling it over my shoulder. As I head out of the library, I pull my phone out and unblock Roman, then send him a quick text.

Where are you?

His response comes immediately.

Rush House. Come over.

Clenching my jaw, I shove my phone back into my pocket and head across campus. On the way over, all I can think about is what I saw in that file. Every page of it is branded into my memory, and as I flip through each page in my mind’s eye, it works me up even more.

The fucking cunt.

I get to Rush House in record time, bursting through the front door. I head to the living room first. When I walk in, the usual people are hanging out, playing pool, and video games.

Lowering my shoulder, my backpack slides onto the floor, next to the couch. “Where’s your asshole king?” I practically yell.

That seems to get everyone’s attention, but it’s one of the Debs who’s brave enough to speak up. “Roman is in the study with the other Sons.”

I point at her. “So you admit he’s an asshole. I like you. What’s your name?”

She opens her mouth to tell me, then must think better of it. I'm sure she doesn’t want to be known as the girl who agreed the campus king is an asshole.

“No worries. I wouldn’t tell me either,” I say, already heading down the hallway toward the study.

I don’t even bother knocking. The study has a double-door situation, and thankfully, both doors are slightly ajar, because Roman is expecting me.

Shoving the file under my arm, I use both hands to twist the door handles, pushing the heavy oak doors open with a flourish. “The queen has arrived!” I call out obnoxiously.

As usual, everyone in the room turns to look at me as I walk in. I couldn’t hide in the shadows here, even if I wanted to. No matter what I’m doing, or where I am, there are eyes on me, always watching. Just like Bree said.

And now I know why that is. Now it makes sense.

Roman is leaning against the desk by the window, and he zeroes in on me immediately. With a flick of his chin, everyone takes the hint and vacates the room. Nathan is in here, too, and he’s the last to pass me on his way out. “Good luck,” he says in a low tone. “Roman is in a mood.”

“Welcome to the fucking club,” I reply, my eyes never leaving Roman.

Nathan closes the door, shutting me in with Roman, Jackson, Christian, and Lucas. My gaze drifts to each one of them, and I wonder how much they know about this whole fucked-up thing. Probably all of it. They seem to do everything together, don’t they?

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