Page 43 of The Knight

And how unlucky Silas was that he hithim.

"It sounds like you don't need my help. You could just testify on your own—and maybe you should." I watch Georgia's face fall into a scowl at my words, and wonder if she expected that she could just waltz in here and I'd fall in line. "After all, you're Georgia Johnson. I'm nobody—sorry, I'm Brenna Wilder. You know that."

Gritting her teeth despite the flash of pain that shows in her eyes, Georgia says, "If you're expecting me to apologize, fat chance."

"Like I said, it doesn't sound like you need my help. Or do you?"

"You know that a woman's testimony doesn't matter if there's just one of her. Double if she's just a girl." She scowls at me, her red brows drawing sharply together. Jerking her chin towards the guys, she says, "Did you make them apologize to you? Or is it only girls like me who are expected to say they're sorry for being what we are."

Her words startle me, not least because they echo thoughts I've had myself. The Elites could run around this campus knocking people over like bulldozers without a single word of contrition falling from their perfect lips, and no one would care at all. They'd be allowed to grow up, to mature, to turn a new leaf and put it all behind them without being forced to reflect.

Girls like me—girls who grow desperate and angry, who steal and hurt others, on purpose or on accident—are expected to prostrate ourselves, noses to the ground, to get back into society's good graces. No one makes allowances for our damaged hearts and missing pieces. We are not allowed to sin and be forgiven.

Girls like me, and girls like Georgia.

She adds, "Everyone was going to find out who you were eventually. Secrets don't keep around here. They spoil and go rotten. I just saved you from your own lies."

"You didn't do it because you wanted to expose me for lying. And as for the guys, they're shitheads who should atone for everything they've done, but we both know this isn't about them. It's about the two of us and no one else." I meet her gaze head-on, ignoring the grumbling from the guys behind us and holding my hand up towards them to make it clear they're not meant to interrupt. "What you did, Georgia, you did because you were angry and spiteful. And the only way I'm going to do thiswithyou, while trusting you and putting my neck out for you, is if I know that you can be trusted."

Grumbling, she asks rhetorically, "Whatever happened to girls sticking together? I know, I know—you'll just say I fucked that up by being a bitch. Well, I can't make you trust me. But you won't be the only one sticking your neck out. Think aboutthat."

I consider her words. "I'll think about it. And get back to you tomorrow. If we're going to do this, I want to be sure."

"Don't take too long. This whim of mine has an expiration date." Reaching up to cup her cheeks, she wryly adds, "It's probably about as long as it takes for the bruises to fade. Once they're gone, though, so is our evidence, and my incentive to testify."

"I won't take too long."

"Hmmm." Jerking her eyes away from me, she glances back at the guys, and calls out to Tanner, "I hope breaking up with me was worth it, Connally. You'll never get a girl like me again."

"Ain't that the truth," he says, but his tone puts a very different spin on it than what she meant. "There are no girls like you out there, Georgia Johnson. As God as my witness I hope I never meet another girl like you again."

"Whatever." She rolls her eyes dramatically. "Look at you, actingSouthern.Like you weren't born with the same silver spoon in your mouth as the rest of us."

"What would you know, Princess."

"Enough to know I'm better off without you." Flipping her hair over her shoulder, like she'snotsporting a bruise from the boyfriend she got since she and Tanner broke up, Georgia hands me a slim card. "My number. I assume you don't have any professional business cards, so I'll give you mine. Call me when you've made up your mind—and don't balls out on me."

I scrunch up my nose. "Balls what now?"

"Pussies are strong. It's testicles that shrivel up at the first sign of cold or a little kick. Remember that when you're deciding if you should testify or not. I won't go without you—I'm not sticking my neck out alone."

With a smirk on her face, she shoots Tanner a parting look, turns on her heels, and walks out of the study area, every inch a confident young woman.

I always thought that it had to be one of two ways: either women let themselves be hit because they're weak, or they leave because they're strong. Seeing Georgia with Hass, and now later the very same day, I realize how wrong I was to believe that it was that easy.

Georgia Johnson isn't a coward.

She just doesn't know how to stand up to Hass alone.

Loathe as she is to admit it, she needs me.

I just don't know if I'm as strong as her—strong enough to get up when I'm knocked down and keep going. That's a kind of strength the world has never asked of me. I have a decision to make, and I can only make it alone, preferably after a good night's sleep.

Turning back to the boys, I consider my options. When Cole opens his mouth to say something, I shake my head at him. "This isn't your business, for once. Let me make this decision on my own. It's mine to make." He frowns, and before he can argue, I add, "Unless you were planning on telling me more about this mysterious criminal organization I'm up against?"

Silence all around, though Blake looks mulish about it. "That's what I thought. If you're going to let me walk into the darkness without a light, the least you can do is let me make my own decision about which way to go. I'm alone in this. Don't pretend otherwise."

Reaching out, I take Silas's laptop out of Lukas's bag, ignore the guilty look he sends my way, and walk away from the Elites without saying goodbye.

---