Page 16 of Theirs to Ruin

I frowned. “Why the chateau?”

Bianca shrugged. “Maybe the dorms were full. Come on.”

We made it to the front door and Bianca pushed it open.

Dim lights, laughter, and loud conversation surrounded us. Vintage license plates and motorcycle memorabilia hung on the walls. A long bar made of reclaimed wood and scarred metal had been built into the center of the room, liquor bottles lining the shelves behind it. The air smelled like spilled beer, worn leather, and weed. There were a few students and townies in the crowd, but they were overwhelmingly outnumbered by bikers dressed in jeans, t-shirts or vests and leather jackets, many with the Devil’s Outcasts logo—a skull with angel wings.

At the center of the chaos, like a queen holding court, a girl with wild auburn hair and both arms covered in colorful tattoos stood behind the bar. I caught her eye and she waved us over, a wide smile on her face.

I stayed frozen, my anxiety returning.

“Relax,” Bianca ordered, pushing me toward the bar. “We’re here to have fun, right?”

“Apparently we’re here to be stared at and objectified,” I muttered under my breath as we maneuvered by a group of bikers who weren’t shy in expressing their interest in us. Their eyes skated over Bianca, and then me. I shot them my bestdon’t mess with melook.

There was a time guys admiring me in a bar wouldn’t have fazed me but now all I could remember was how vulnerable I’d felt after being roofied and Kage’s anger when he told me to grow up. I hated how stupid I’d been, especially because acting like a grown up is what I’d been trying to do for the past year. Last month’s roofie incident and my secret racing aside, I tried to stay unnoticed and out of trouble, and that was a talent in and of itself.

We reached the bar and the redhead grinned at my sister.

“Bianca, good to see you. Who’s your friend?”

“This is my sister, Camille. Camille, this is Raye. She owns this place.”

I couldn’t stop staring—Raye had the most beautiful turquoise eyes I’d ever seen. “Nice to meet you, Raye.”

“Likewise, sugar. What can I get you?”

“I’ll have a Cosmo, please,” I said.

Raye stared at me, eyes narrowed, and I expected her to card me or snort and give a soda. I was prepared to whip out the same fake I.D. I’d brought to The Roost last month when she looked at Bianca. “You?”

“A Bees Knees,” Bianca said.

Raye prepared and served our drinks, then gave us a wink. “Have a good night, you two. I’d say stay out of trouble, but I know this one can handle herself,” she said with a pointed look at Bianca.

We each grabbed a stool and sipped our drinks. For the next ten minutes, I spent half the time watching Raye, and the other half casting glances at the entrance each time the door swung open, nervous that I’d get caught drinking by someone from the school.

“Will you relax?” Bianca said. “With the makeup, the new hair, and that killer dress, you easily pass for twenty-one." She turned her attention back to Raye and sighed. “Raye’s the shit, right? She’s only twenty-two and already owns this place. God, I want to be her someday.”

My eyebrows shot up. "Seriously, Bianca? You practicallyareher. Just swap the infatuated bikers at her feet for our awestruck classmates at yours. Everyone at school either wants to be you or do you." It was true. She was Tier One, top of her class in marksmanship, a total badass who had her pick of any guy.

She grinned. "You could have it all, too, little sis. Hell, earlier you and your racecar kicked ass. You just need to own your power.”

“It’s hard to own it when I might be stuck in Tier Three status forever.”

Every student who attended CU, whether they started as a freshman or a senior, started at Tier Three status. The goal was to move up to Tier One as soon as possible by excelling in your classes but the ranking system also considered things like extra-curricular activities and even popularity with other students.

“Reaching Tier One is overrated," Bianca said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I've seen you eyeing the rankings, obsessing over that chart as if it holds the secrets of the universe. Guess what? It doesn’t.”

“Yeah, well tell that to Dad,” I retorted. “And it’s hard not to obsess. There’s more than just a ranking at stake here. You think it’s a coincidence he’s suddenly trying to marry me off?”

The pressure had been steadily increasing to prove to my dad I could be just as valuable to our family as Bianca. That meant doing well inallmy classes.

In addition to our day classes, students at Crimsonvale attended several night classes per quarter, with each night class running about six weeks rather than the usual twelve weeks for day classes. The night classes played specifically to our unique family histories. They taught us about power, cunning, manipulation, and the delicate art of survival in a world of crime. This quarter I was currently taking two night classes, Comprehensive Defense Studies and Art of Seduction 102, which would switch out at the end of the month to two different night classes.

I’d gotten a C minus in Art of Seduction 101 last year, and it was the main reason I didn’t make Tier Two. That and my B in Trigonometry as well as the fact that unlike Bianca, I was a horrible shot with firearms. When I failed to rise in rank, my dad’s agenda for me had changed.

Forget giving me a good education and skills to make my own way in the word, illegally or not. Now he couldn’t care less if I graduated. All I was good for in his mind was marrying one of the men on his stupid lists.

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