Page 57 of The Ruthless Note

“Why did you want me out of school last month? Is it because of Sol? Is there something… wrong with him? Does it have anything to do with why he missed the beginning of school?”

I stiffen when I see the genuine interest in her eyes. There’s more behind that question. She’s not just asking for herself but because she actually wants to learn more about Sol.

I’m annoyed for reasons that I can’t really explain.

It breaks the spell of my excitement. Some part of me was actually looking forward to spending time alone in detention with her.

“Why are you so interested in Sol?”

“Because he’s actually nice to me.”

I roll my eyes. “High standards.”

“So what? I should, naturally, be more into someone who treats me like crap?” Her eyebrows hike.

I’m wise enough not to answer that directly. “He’s none of your concern. Stay away from him.”

“You’ve said that already,” she points out. “But just because you tell me to do something doesn’t mean I have to listen.”

The glare I unleash on her is sharp. “I don’t want you thinking about any other guy.”

“So you want to control my thoughts now?” She scoffs.

I scowl in response. I hate that I’m affected by her. Hate that she has a small measure of influence on me. Whether its because of my lingering feelings for Redhead or whether it’s pure animal lust, she makes me weak.

And now that I realize it, it scares the hell out of me.

Rising abruptly, I grab my bag.

Cadence scrambles up too. “Where are you going? We’re supposed to be in detention for an hour.”

“Harris isn’t going to record this. Don’t worry about your record.” I squeeze the strap of my bag.

Forget the guitar ban. I need to shred.

I can feel Cadence’s stunned look boring into my back.

Turning, I face her. “Are you still in touch with my dad?”

“No.” She blinks. “We barely even talked that day outside the auditorium. He helped me out because of Mr. Mulliez. I doubt he even remembers my name.”

“Good. Stay away from him.”

“Why?”

“Because if you thinkI’mbad, he’s even worse.” My gaze darkens. “You don’t want to owe my father any favors.”

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

CADENCE

Vi is at the front door like an eager puppy. She springs on me the moment I get home, plying me with questions about Dutch and the speedo incident and moaning over the fact that she didn’t get to see ‘such physical perfection’ in person.

I barely manage to shake her off and retreat to my room where I can decompress. It’s been a hell of a day and I’d much rather deal with my own unwanted Dutch-ab-fangirling in the privacy of my bedroom.

As I’m about to prepare for a shower, my phone rings.

Unknown Number.

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