Page 73 of Dance With A Devil
She drove herself today. Insisted on it. Said she needed the space.
So I let her take one of my vintage beasts.
My '56 Jaguar. Black as sin and twice as rare.
“Be careful with her,” I told her. “She’s as delicate as you are.”
“I know you love her,” she said, smiling from behind the wheel like she didn’t know I lovedhermore. “I’ll take care of her. You’ll see.”
That damn smile still echoes through my skull. I should’ve followed her then.
But I didn’t.
Now I’m changing course, cutting through the courtyard and straight toward her classroom, because something in my chest has been buzzing since I woke up.
Fifteen minutes left in her lecture. I’ll wait. I’ll take what I can get.
Until, “Sir, we’ve got a problem,” Blake says, jogging up like he knows better than to run around me.
“What is it?”
“It’s Jensen. His boys are sniffing around. Think something happened to Court.”
I smile. The kind that bares teeth and whispersyou’re next. “Good. Send them an invitation to the party.”
Blake hesitates. “The real kind?”
“Theonlykind.”
He nods and peels off.
They can sniff all they want. But if they get too close, I’ll rip their fucking noses off.
Court’s daddy might be the real threat, but I’ve already buried worse monsters. And I’m not afraid of adding another body to the pile.
The classroom empties. Buzzing, chattering, sheep filing out of a slaughterhouse. I hold the door until the last one passes me.
Then I step inside.
She doesn’t see me until I’m right behind her.
“How’s my Little Fox’s day going?” I murmur, low and close.
She jumps, drops her bag, spins with wide eyes. “Wyck! You scared me.”
“Why are you so jumpy?” I ask, watching how her teeth dig into her bottom lip like she’s trying not to break. “Athens… what’s wrong?”
She doesn’t speak.
Just grabs her phone. Shaky fingers. Pale knuckles. She taps, hands it to me.
The second I read the message, something inside medetonates.
Where did the ‘O’ go:Bitch, I will kill you when I find you. Don’t fucking underestimate what I’m capable of.
My fingers curl around her phone, bones creaking from the force of my grip.
“Athens,” I whisper through clenched teeth. “Who sent this?”
