Page 30 of Burn With Me

“I didn’t know there was a recording,” I say absently. My voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere far away.

Selene bites her lip. “I did,” she confesses.

Both Hel and I turn to look at her.

“Youdid?” Hel repeats in shock.

She nods with a wince before jumping to explain as she whirls to face me. “I thought your brother had taken care of it, though,” she admits with shame. “He was—”

“Marcus knew?” That sick feeling blossoms and takes over, invading every fiber of my being.

No, no, no, no, no. I didn’t want him to know. I never wanted him to know—or to find out. My horrible high school shame. He knew about everything else, this—the result of pissing off one of the most powerful families in New York—was something I wanted to bury as deep as possible.

Selene looks to the ground. “He still had friends there, Rori.” Her voice is quiet but resolute.

She’s right. I remember now. There had been a few guys from the football team—players who’d remembered him before he’d moved to California and gone to Hazelwood. They’d been kind enough to cover me with a jacket and break up the crowd. But it’d been too late for their rescue. The damage had already been done.

“The question is, how the fuck did they get something like this?” Hel demands.

“It’s a small world,” I say.Especially in the upper echelon. “I’m sure Isaac has a lot of connections.”

“Are you mad at me?” Selene asks.

I blow out a breath and scrub a hand down my face. “No,” I say. “I’m not mad at you.” I don’t have the energy to be mad at her, and honestly, if I think about it, when had she had an opportunity to tell me? She’d been gone on jobs practically all the time—most of her schooling had been done on the road. She was likely hoping that I would forget that horrible year before I took up kickboxing and learned how to fight back. I, myself, thought I’d left it behind.

“What are you going to do?” she presses.

What am I going to do? I suck in a breath and my eyes turn to my own computer screen. “I’m going to give him a taste of his own medicine,” I say.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Selene bites down on her lower lip, glancing back and forth between me and Hel.

The wisest thing I could’ve done would have been to ignore Isaac Icari the second I landed on Hazelwood’s campus. That was then, though, and this is now. There’s no use in turning back when the match has already been lit. So, I might as well make use of this fire I’ve created.

Bile sits in my stomach, acidic and putrid. I look back to Hel’s screen as movement pops up in the corner of the video. A familiar face appears.

Megan Wood.

I stare at the girl, watching her laugh as she rips a bag of bird feathers open and starts tossing them in my face. A few of her friends help. Some even go so far as to waltz right up to me and slap them on themselves. Brave little cunts. Old anger flares to life, and my hands clench into fists at my sides.

It’d been Megan’s father—another notch in my mother’s husband's belt—that had started it all. It made sense that she would take her anger out on me. And because of this, I’d learned my fucking lesson.

Until now. Until Isaac Icari. This video is a warning. Play the game, he’s saying, and you’ll get burned.

The girl in the video—the three years ago version of me—wouldn’t have even thought of fighting back. She would’ve buried her head in the sand and hoped her tormentor would lose interest. Now, though, I don’t feel as ashamed as she did. I have nothing to be ashamed of. Their anger towards me—Megan’sanger towards me—was unwarranted.

It’s not your fault, Rori. None of this is your fault.Marcus’ words from back then remind me of that.

I’m not who I was in New York. I’m who I amnow. Here. And who I am now is not a fucking pawn.

14

RORI

The whisper-like sound of a door opening jerks me out of a deep sleep, but instead of sitting up, something tells me that keeping quiet is better. Keeping quiet is safer. My fingers dig into the sheets beneath me as my ears strain to hear something in the darkness of my bedroom. There’s no light save for the soft glow of the moon shining in through the sheer curtains across from my bed.

My lashes flutter against my cheeks. My heart pounds against my chest—faster than it ever has before. My insides tighten.

Please be wrong,I beg my mind as it supplies the reality of what’s happening. Please let it be my imagination. But deep down, I know I’m not wrong. If I’m being honest, I could feel his gaze on me at dinner. I just kept hoping I was making it up in my head.

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