Page 42 of The Ruthless Note

With no other choice, I walk behind The Kings, noticing how everyone hurries out of their way and leaves a clear road. Seems like it doesn’t matter if they’re all together or if it’s just a pair, no one wants to draw the eyes of the gods of Redwood Prep.

It must be suffocating living like that. Shuffling around like rats, always on edge, always giving deference to a group of boys with otherworldly beauty and big bank accounts.

My sense of justice stirs and I hold on to that feeling with all I’m worth. Dutch and his crew have managed to suppress everyone here at Redwood Prep, but they’ll never tame me. Never.

To my surprise, the boys lead me past their private practice room and take me to the school theatre instead.

“He’s in there,” Zane says, pointing into the darkness.

My entire body trembles, but I lift my chin. “Thanks.”

Just before I walk through the doors, Finn steps into my path. He towers over me and levels me a brown-eyed stare that’s both cold and enigmatic at once.

“Just thought you should know that your current strategy isn’t going to work,” he warns. His voice drops to a frosty degree even though I can tell that he’s trying to help me. “He loves that car. You ruined it. Find another angle.”

“He’s right,” Zane agrees. “We talked him down as much as we could, but the more you screw around with his head, the worse it’ll get.”

“Your brother isn’t a god, as much as he pretends to be. I can handle myself.” I square my shoulders and pretend I’m not afraid, even though my ability to handle Dutch is shakier than ever.

Finn and Zane exchange looks.

I make a ‘move’ gesture, mocking what they’d done to me on the school steps.

Finn looks amused.

Zane shrugs and backs up.

I step into the theatre and hear the door shut firmly behind me. It makes me jump.

A sudden hush falls.

My eyes sweep the stage until I find Dutch. He’s sitting on a piano stool, his fingers moving over a guitar. I find it weird that I don’t hear a sound until I realize he’s not touching the strings at all.

I try to swallow, but it gets stuck in my throat.

What will this monster do to me now?

I know one thing. I can’t look intimidated. He’ll exploit every crack in my armor, find every weakness and crush me.

Anger and annoyance colliding in my veins, I storm up the steps and stomp over to him so loudly that his head tilts to the side.

“Why am I here, Dutch? I have class in ten minutes. I don’t have time for your games.”

He sets the guitar in its stand and rises to his full height, long legs seeming to go on forever. My heart thunders when his burning hazel eyes find mine.

Our heavy breaths mix in with the stillness of the auditorium.

One beat passes.

Two.

“Why aren’t you saying something?” I ask snarkily. “Hello?”

Dutch approaches me slowly. His movements are calm, almost elegant. “My brothers made a call. I’d planned to corner you myself, but they insisted I should punish you in private.”

“Punish me?” I croak out a bitter laugh. “You really think you own me, don’t you?”

“Do you know, it’s impossible to get the stench of sour milk out of leather?” Dutch circles me like a shark. I can smell the tangy scent of blood too, and I realize it’s because I’m biting down so hard on my tongue that it drew blood.

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