Page 41 of The Ruthless Note

Each march forward feels like I’m tripping off the edge of a cliff.

Getting revenge had seemed like a really good idea in the heat of the moment. Embarrassment lashing my chest and sweat pouring down my face, I could think of literallynothingbetter than shoveling trash into Dutch’s front seat and imagining his anger when he saw what I’d done.

But then I went home, fell into bed and couldn’t sleep from the horror of imagining all the evil ways he’d get me back. I kept waiting for him to bang on my door and scare both me and Vi.

This morning, I woke up sleep-deprived, grumpy and fearful.

I know how dangerous The Kings are.

This isn’t a David to Goliath story.

This is more like a tiny ant under Goliath’s boot. Any minute and its entire existence can be squashed. A life snuffed out on her end, but not even a blip on the giant’s radar.

My steps slow to a crawling halt when I see Finn and Zane lounging on the school steps. The boys are like magnificent black panthers, fleeting shadows lying in wait. Each of them over six feet. Finn with eyes like flint and a stillness that fools no one but the most utterly naive. He’s danger wrapped in tan skin, almond-shaped eyes, and quiet menace.

And then there’s Zane, Dutch’s mirror-image in everything but the eyes and hair. As sexy as a weapon, with a charming mouth that can create whatever reality he wishes, as if he were made of magic.

I’ve studied both of Dutch’s brothers during The Kings’ campaign to kick me out of Redwood. Just because Dutch was the face of their brutal punishments doesn’t mean his brothers weren’t more than capable of carrying out the dirty deeds themselves.

The traffic on the stairs is a one-way path thanks to the fact that no one wants to even walk past the brothers. Unfortunately, that makes it an easy and clear path to follow when Finn lifts two fingers and bends them toward me.

My knees knock into each other and I swallow hard before mounting the stairs. Zane sticks one of his long legs up on the wide, cement handrail. I notice a few cheerleaders checking out the area between his legs, the mere outline of which proves the rumors about him and his… assets are very true.

Finn doesn’t move at all. He continues to lounge against the stairs, his body coiled despite his relaxed shoulders and disinterested eyes.

“Get home well yesterday?” I ask cheekily. Sweat is beading on my forehead but—thanks to Dutch’s torture, I’ve gotten practice in pretending to be unruffled.

“You’re one ballsy chick,” Zane says, laughing.

“What do you mean?”

“That was a lot of trash. You must have been tired,” Finn says.

His assessing gaze makes me shuffle in place. I can never tell what he’s thinking and, somehow, that’s more disarming than Zane’s lethal sex appeal.

I go for sarcasm. “Aw. Are you worried about me? Thanks.”

His lips twitch.

Just then, Zane’s cell phone chirps. He looks down and then looks back up at me.

At once, I feel invisible chords binding around my wrist. I have a good idea who just texted him and what that person requested.

“Dutchreallywants to thank you for that gift last night,” Zane says, his voice an easy, overconfident rumble.

“And he sent his brothers as escorts? I should be honored.”

Zane gives me a crap-eating grin. “You’re funny.”

“Not trying to be,” I mumble.

Finn nods to the school doors. “Let’s go.”

When the guys turn and head through the crowded entrance, I wrap my arms tightly around myself and suck in a shaking breath.

Maybe I should have stayed home today.

It’s too late now.

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