Page 59 of Brutal Prince

Briar

Iget in my car and peel out of my parking spot. The growl of my Mustang’s V8 engine rumbles through me as I tear down the road.

You killed her.

I rub a hand over my chest, and fist my fingers when I realize what I’m doing.

I need a fucking cigarette. Marcus and I both quit smoking last year so Coach would stop shitting on us for getting out of breath on long passes, but right now I couldn’t give a shit if I never score another touchdown.

After picking up a packet of cigarettes at one of the filling stations, the cab of my Mustang fills with smoke. I turn up the radio till I can’t hear anything anymore, even my own thoughts.

Because fuck it, I’m done having Indi in my head. Thinking about how soft her lips were against mine, how sweet her mouth tasted. The tiny sound she made when I—

I push my foot down on the gas, overtaking a slow-ass hybrid. It honks its horn at me, and I shove my hand out the window and flip it the finger.

Minutes later, when I realize where I’m headed, I slam my foot on the brakes. I’m on one of the roads leading out of town, and luckily I’m the only one in sight, because my Mustang fishtails. I grit my teeth, barely managing to keep her from spinning out of control.

I end up in a cloud of dust on the side of the road, my engine rumbling angrily before I turn off the ignition with a trembling hand.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I run my fingers through my hair.

I need space.

I kick open the door and rush outside, hauling a deep, dust-tainted breath and coughing. When I turn to hack up and spit into the bushes alongside the road, a nearby road sign catches my eye.

Angel Falls

1 Mile

I glare at it, my jaw aching until I force myself to stop clenching my teeth. Killers are always drawn back to the scene of the crime, aren’t they?

“Fuck!” I swing around and drive my fist into the hood of my Mustang. My yell echoes back to me, but the thump of flesh meeting metal doesn’t.

When I lift my hand, there’s a dent in the hood.

Because I destroy everything I touch, don’t I, Addison fucking Green? I’m the Robert Oppenheimer of Lavish.

I force a grim smile onto my mouth as I get back in my car.

Guess what, Indi?

You’re next on my hit list.

* * *

I’m driving aimlessly,taking back roads I know don’t have speeding cameras on so I can open up the Mustang. I almost forget how shitty my fucking life is for like five seconds.

Then Marcus texts me.

I pull onto the side of the road and stare at my phone. I’d forgotten he was bunking with me. That I’d given him a lift to school.

Stellar friend, aren’t I?

I throw the Mustang into a turn and head back to Lavish Prep while I tug at another cigarette.

He’s waiting for me on the school steps like I’m some kind of absentee father who was placing one last bet at the racecourse before coming to get his son.

---