Page 21 of The Vipers and Their Vendetta

Saint laughs in the front. “Lex, she thinks you’d be a rat. What animal would I turn into?” he asks.

“A slug, or a spider. Something disgusting,” I say.

“You’re such a tease, Vani. You know you want us, really.”

“None of you will ever touch me again.” I’m not joking. The minute we get back to college, I’m racing to my room and locking the door. “I don’t ever want to see your faces again. You’re all sick in the head, every single one of you at this college.”

“Since you’re part of this college too, I presume that includes you?” Lex says.

He’s being an asshole and reminding me of how awful he was that first day in math class.

“I must say I don’t like this new attitude you’ve developed,” he continues. “Is this because of what those stupid bitches said? You can’t trust a word out of Angelica’s mouth. Only an absolute fool would believe anything that girl says. She has spent her entire time at this college doing nothing but causing trouble and stirring shit because she thinks it gives her a drop of importance.”

“It’s not just her. She said the entire college knows it was to do with you.” I blink hard, determined not to cry. I tell myself they aren’t worth it. “They all think you had something to do with it and that you drove Reagan to her death. After spendingtime with you, it’s hardly that difficult to imagine, now, is it? You’re hardly upstanding gentlemen who know how to treat a lady with respect. What did you do to her?” I kick the seat in front of me, where Saint is sitting, not caring that I might damage the precious leather of Zane’s fancy car. “Did you like to degrade her the way you do me?”

Saint shoots me a murderous glare before turning back to face the front. “No, of course not. We didn’t have anything to do with her, not in that way.”

He turns around again, and his stupidly handsome face breaks into a nasty grin. “She wasn’t made the same way as you. She didn’t like it the way you do. We degrade you because you love it.”

I’m so damn angry, I can’t speak.

He hasn’t finished. “You’re our perfect little venomous snake, and you like to get down and dirty in the snake pit with us just as much as we like it. You can deny it all you want, but it’s the truth.”

God, how I thought Saint was the nicer one at first just because he has a surface charm, I will never understand. At times like this, I wish Zane could speak. He’s a silent, hulking presence in the front of the car, and I have no idea what he’s thinking. He might even be on my side in this, although I doubt it very much.

We turn through the gates, and the security guard waves us down.

Saint slides down his window so he can speak to the guard. “We got her. Thank fuck. Her bike is on the road, messed up. We’ll go pick it up if we can take one of the trucks?”

The guard scratches his beard. “I should send security to do that, but we’re short tonight. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“It’s dangerous where it is and could cause another accident.”

“Fine, I’ll ring down and ask one of the maintenance guys to get a truck ready. They won’t be happy at being woken this early, but it’s better than an accident happening and more bad publicity. I ought to let the dean know.”

“Can we keep this between us?” Saint asks. I realize he’s taking his wallet out of his pocket. “If I move it immediately, there’s no harm no foul, right? We’re already on his shit list.”

He hands the guy a massive wad of bills.

“Just this once,” the guard mutters.

As we drive on, I lean forward. “You think your money can buy everything. Well, it can’t buy me. You won’t see me again after you drop me off.”

“We will,” Lex says. “You’ve likely got a concussion, so we need to keep a watch over you.”

“Why? What do you care?”

“Because you are ours,” Lex says. “We take care of what we own.”

Zane doesn’t move, and Saint says nothing to disavow those words.

“I’m not yours,” I say. “Not any longer, and you certainly don’t own me.”

“What if you don’t get to choose, Vani?”

Lex glances at me, and his face is so damn serious. He almost sounds sad, as if he hates the fact too but can’t fight it, either.

“I’ll always have a choice,” I spit back and pray I’m right.

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