Page 160 of Brutal Prince

He doesn’t have to know how I know — the facts speak for themselves. Let him think I’m stalking him — they say crazy sometimes works at keeping other crazies at bay.

“And you know what?” I go on as if I didn’t even hear him, palming my switchblade as casually as I can. “I hope whoever does have that video, that they send it to the police.” I step closer still, until our bodies touch. The metal in my hand is warm now, hot almost. “Because evidence like that? That should be enough to reopen the case, don’t you think?”

“I meant what I said—”

I flick open the switchblade and press it against Briar’s throat.

He doesn’t move.

Not a flinch, not a twitch, nothing. It’s as if he hasn’t even noticed the metal against his skin. I drop my voice low, and force every word out steady. “Especially when I show them the shoes you left outside my house.”

Addy’s sobs are simmering down, but I doubt she’s coherent enough to hear what I’m saying. But I go up on my tiptoes anyway and lay a hand on Briar’s shoulders, nearly meeting him eye for eye as I press the flat of the blade against his throat in warning.

Okay, hardly meeting him eye for eye. But I’m trying really fucking hard.

“How you broke into my house. How you watched me.”

“That won’t—” His thick voice cuts off, and he glances away from me. “You know that’s not—”

“The same as raping someone?” I whisper furiously, leaning in even closer so he’s forced to look at me. “I dunno, Briar. I kinda feel it’s one of the first rungs on the motherfucking ladder.”

His eyes touch me then, and for a moment — the briefest, craziest moment — I know he’s not a bad person.

But see, that thought has nothing to do with common sense, logic, or facts. That’s my fucking vagina talking again.

Briar is a criminal. He dodged the law once, but I’ve vowed to myself and Addison that it will never happen again. If that means he spends a few months cleaning trash on the side of the road instead of hard time in jail, so be it.

At least his record won’t reflect the perfect imitation high schooler he shows the world. There will be a black mark on his name.

Until his father washes it off, of course.

Briar ducks, grabs the backpack off the floor, and backs up toward the door.

“This isn’t over,” he growls. He stabs a finger in Addison’s direction, but doesn’t take his eyes off me. He gives my switchblade a contemptuous smirk, and then he’s gone.

My legs give out, but I don’t feel anything when I hit the floor. Moments later, Addy’s by my side. She throws her arms over me and starts crying again.

I would have joined her, but I have no tears.

My fury boiled them all away.

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