Page 10 of King of Violence

“He doesn’t hate me,” I say, even though I’m not entirely sure that’s true.

Elijah lets out a bark of laughter. “Oh, he definitely hates you. I’ve seen the way he looks at people like us. I bet he thinks you’re just some spoiled rich kid coasting through life on Daddy’s dime.”

I don’t respond, focusing instead on the stack of cash in front of me.

Elijah leans forward, his elbows on the table. “You fuckin’ around with him for fun or what?”

“It’s not for fun,” I snap, though the edge in my voice only makes him smirk.

“Right. Because you’re the picture of academic dedication,” he says.

I glare at him, but he doesn’t back down.

“Look, I’m just saying, this seems...out of character for you,” Elijah continues. “I mean, tutoring? Really? What’s next, joining the debate team?”

I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. “If you’re done making jokes, I have work to do.”

Elijah studies me for a moment, his smirk fading slightly. “You like this guy, don’t you?”

I stiffen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You can’t fool me, Jules. I know that look. You’ve got it bad.”

“I don’t have anything,” I snap. “Felix is just...interesting, that’s all.”

“Interesting,” Elijah repeats, his grin returning. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Look, he’s just my tutor, okay? That’s it. The school thinks I need help, he’s the one they picked, and I’m going along with it to keep everyone off my back. End of story.”

Elijah doesn’t look convinced, but for once, he lets it drop.

“Whatever you say, Jules,” he says, standing up and stretching. “Just don’t forget—guys like him don’t play by our rules. If you’re not careful, he could turn into a problem.”

“I can handle it,” I say, though the weight of his words lingers long after he’s gone.

As the door slams shut behind him, I let out a long breath and run a hand through my hair.

Felix Caruso.

The name sticks in my mind like a stubborn burr, tangled up with images of sharp eyes, furrowed brows, and the way he looks at me like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

So what if I had the school assign Felix as my tutor? I just wanted to get to know him. I haven’t thought about getting a moment alone with him in the dark. Haven’t dreamed of what he would sound like with my lips on his throat...

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, trying to ease the heat that’s bubbling in my veins. Elijah might be right about the crush thing.

Shit.

???

The gym is almost empty, just the way I like it. Late at night, the clanging of weights and the rhythmic hum of the treadmill feel oddly calming. It’s one of the few places I can think without distractions. At least, it usually is.

Tonight, something—or rather, someone—has me completely distracted.

I spot Felix near the punching bags, his movements sharp and controlled as he delivers a series of punches. His usual buttoned-up demeanor is gone, replaced by something raw and intense. His muscle shirt clings to his body, damp with sweat. It’s one of those shirts that covers the front and the back, but the sides are open to the air. I can see his sleek pale skin and his swimmer’s physique almost perfectly.

I lean against the wall, watching for a moment longer than I probably should. Hey, maybe he’ll remove the whole shirt if I’m lucky.

Felix doesn’t notice me—he’s too focused on whatever he’s working through. His form is decent, but his punches lack the kind of power that comes with experience.

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