Page 49 of Snake

I don’t know if they’re staying quiet because they don’t have a snappy comeback for me, or because they’re truly digesting what I’m saying. I don’t care—I’m taking full advantage of it. After all, it’s not every day I have an attentive audience like this.

I thought knowing exactly who they’d murdered would change everything, but somehow it made it more complicated.

How do you kill your own father? And what kind of friends support someone who says that’s what they want to do? Yes, I wasn’t there. I don’t know how bad the abuse became. But I don’t know if I can say without a doubt that it was right of them to take a life.

What I do know is that I’m not letting them dictate what’s right or wrong for me. It probably means I’ll never spend time with them again. Or they might decide to take whatever they want from me with force again. That is their way, after all. But I won’t just sit back and take it anymore.

“If you three really want to make a difference in this town, then it’s time you stopped treating everyone like they’re your underlings.”

Knox cocks an eyebrow like he wouldn’t even know where to begin. Mason and Silas don’t react in the slightest.

“Starting with me.” I push up my chin, worried that I might backtrack after I hear how selfish that sounds. “No more throwing me over your shoulder like a damn sack of potatoes.” This I direct at Mason, and he has the gall to look offended. And he even opens his mouth as if to protest, but Knox reaches out a hand and grabs his arm, silencing him. I turn to Silas. “And screw Grace You’ll carry on tutoring me,” I say. “Apparently, it’s working.”

There’s a little bloom of warmth in my heart when the one side of Silas’s mouth quirks up, but it quickly slips away when I add, “But only if you stop looking so damn angry all the time.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “I don’t—not all the time.” He glances at his two friends like he’s looking for support, but he doesn’t find any sympathy there. His eyes narrow when he turns back to me. “I have a lot on my mind.”

I almost soften. Almost. But it’s a piss poor excuse, and I shouldn’t fall for it. So I sniff, cross my arms over my chest, and say, “We all do, Silas.” I don’t know if he accepts this, but he stops challenging me on it when he looks down at his lap.

“And you!”

Knox moves his head to the side like he’s dodging my pointing finger. “Let me guess, you—” he starts dryly, cutting off when I shake my head.

“No more interrupting. You get off that high horse of yours and you’ll stop treating me like a dress-up doll.”

“Pony,” Mason says through a snort, and Silas comes in right behind him with, “Blow-up doll.”

Knox turns his expressionless mask on Mason, then Silas, then finally back to me. “If we do this,” he says. “If we play nice...will you come with us to the dance?”

I find my eyes drawn to Silas. He’s watching me with unsettling intensity. What the hell is up with these three and the dance? Then again, Romi made as big a deal as they’re doing. I guess it really is the social event of the year. Would they look like losers if they didn’t all three have dates?

Hmm. Such a good reason to say no. It would serve them right.

“I’ll think about it.” I give him a whip-quick shrug.

“We bought you a fucking Valentino—” he starts, but his lips seal right up when I lift my finger and give him a soft little, “Uh, uh.”

I swear I can hear him grinding his teeth. “Whatever you decide,” he says calmly. But I guess he just can’t help himself, because he adds a dry, “Your Majesty.”

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