Page 47 of The Sweetest Revenge

"It was Coach Palmer. My coach."

"Oh." My gaze shifted to Ariella, and I held up two fingers. "Two deaths."

"Who?" she demanded, my patience fraying as I gripped the phone tighter.

"The shooter and Coach Palmer," I reported grimly, watching Ariella's face for her reaction.

Her chin jerked back, but she didn't say anything. I could see the mixture of emotions flashing across her face.

The loss of life was always sad, but I wasn't one bit upset about losing a man who took advantage of the team he was supposed to protect, and I imagined Ariella and Mila felt the same.

"Are they sure that's it?" I asked. "We still have several unaccounted for."

"They're probably at home sleeping or something and don't know what's going on. Has everyone from the dance team been accounted for now?"

"Yes," I said. "The football and soccer teams are still missing people."

"They could send someone to their house to check on them, but the news said it was only one plus the shooter."

"I'll let EJ and Curtis know," I said into the phone. "And then I'm going to take Ariella home."

"Stay safe," Mila said and disconnected.

"Mila and Journey are safe." I slid off my bike as Ariella visibly relaxed. "We should let everyone know the info we got, and then we'll head home."

Ariella and I took a minute to update EJ, Sterling, and the soccer team captain, Curtis, before we headed home.

CHAPTER23

ARIELLA

My shoulders sagged, each step up the stairwell requiring more effort than the last. The events of the day clung to me like a lead weight, my eyelids fighting to stay open. I followed Zaiden up the stairwell, stopping at my room.

"You should go to bed," Zaiden's words came out more as a command than a suggestion. "I'll be gone in a minute."

"You're leaving?" My gaze shifted around the dark house. I didn't want to be alone, not after everything today.

"I'm staying in the team house tonight." He sidestepped me, his shoulder brushing against mine. The brief contact sent a jolt through my body, a reminder of the electric tension between us. The heat radiated from him as he passed, heading to his room.

"Please don't leave," I pleaded, following behind him. My hands trembled slightly as I reached out, the memory of today's terrors still etched in the lines of my face.

His body went rigid, one foot suspended mid-step. Slowly, he pivoted toward me. His forehead creased, eyebrows knitting together. "Are you asking me to stay here with you?"

I shrugged as I slowly nodded. "The house is empty and dark?—"

"Ariella," he snapped, cutting me off. "Nothing has changed. I was stuck with you today, and now I can't wait to get away from you." His words cut through the air like shards of ice, each syllable dripping with venom. The muscles in his jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing to slits. He turned back and stormed through the doorway into his room.

"That's a lie," I said, grabbing a handful of his shirt and jerking hard to stop him. "You kissed me the same way you kissed me?—"

He huffed out a humorless laugh as he snapped his body around, pulling his shirt from my hand. His hand shot out, fingers grazing my collarbone before curling around my throat. Time seemed to slow as he closed the distance between us, his eyes never leaving mine. The wall hit my back with a dull thud, driving the air from my lungs.

His grip tightened, not enough to choke, but a clear threat. I could feel my pulse hammering against his palm, a frantic counterpoint to the eerie calm in his eyes. "That kiss," he growled, his breath hot against my cheek, "was to save my life, my teammate's lives." He pressed closer, our noses almost touching. His scent, a mix of sweat and adrenaline, enveloped me, making it hard to think and breathe. "No more, no less. You mean nothing to me, Ariella."

I shook my head, and his grip tightened on my throat. "You don't kiss someone you hate like that," I choked out. "And you protected me from Coach Palmer."

"That wasn't protection for you," he muttered. "That was protection for me. You are mine," he whispered, the words sliding like ice down my spine. His grip on my throat loosened, but his other hand came up to cage me against the wall. "And no one," he continued, his voice dropping even lower, "will touch you until I'm done destroying you." The last word hung between us, heavy with promise and threat. I didn't know if I wanted to run from him or stay, the line between fear and something else blurring dangerously, and I knew I'd officially lost my mind.

My lip curled into a snarl. "You're really going to pretend like you feel nothing for me."

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