Page 27 of Descent

Asher’s little display made it around school by the end of my next class. Everywhere I went, everyone kept a large distance between me and them. I heard several people talking about how they didn’t know Asher and I were already married, how crazy it is that a legacy got married before induction or graduation. I also heard that Bridgette’s hand is fractured, and she had to be taken to the hospital to have surgery on it. Does it make me a bad person that I don’t really care?

When news hit Ronan’s ears, he pulled me out of class and had Wesley take me home early. He said that he would meet me there as soon as he could. When I got to the parking lot, Wesley was there with a compassionate smile on his face as he held the door open for me. Before we left, I saw Asher climbing into his car and following after us. Guess he’s taking Liam’s request seriously.

“You want to talk about it?” Wesley asks as he merges lanes.

“About what?” I ask.

“The altercation,” he says easily.

I shrug. “At least I don’t need stitches this time.”

“Stitches?” he frowns.

I nod. “She hit me over the head with a plate. A ton of blood. Super gross,” I say, as I wrinkle my nose up in disdain.

Wesley’s tone becomes cold and stiff.

“And she wasn’t dismissed?”

I turn to look at him with a tilt to my head.

“Dismissed? Like expelled?”

He nods.

“No, I don’t think she even got in trouble,” I laugh. “Besides Asher choking her, I suppose that was punishment.”

“He choked her?” Wesley asks with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, and he stabbed her with a fork today.”

He makes a face before looking out the driver’s window.

“What?” I ask.

“Hm?”

“That face. What was that about?”

“It’s nothing,” he says, with a shake of his head and a fake smile.

“Wesley,” I say with furrowed brows.

He lets out a slow breath, as he shakes his head again and keeps his eyes forward.

“I just hope that doesn’t reach Christopher’s ears. He won’t like his son getting violent with a daughter of the Brethren. Not a good look.”

I hadn’t even thought of that. I’d imagine that would be a very bad look for Asher, for all the Putnam’s…shit.

We pull up to the house, a heaviness inside the car as he opens the door for me.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

“My pleasure,” Wesley says, as Asher parks his car.

I begin walking up the steps when I get to the front door and pause. No. Not again.

A white envelope is resting against the doorstep– no name, no return address. Just blank and foreboding.

---