Page 76 of Cannon
I stubbornly stare into his chocolate-brown eyes, which are usually so kind. Right now, though, they’re flat. Hard. Like someone’s pulled the shutters in there so I can’t see what he’s really feeling. “I. Don’t. Believe. You.” I suck in a breath. “You’re lying.”
He’s sweating. I can practically see the beads popping out on his forehead. “Think what you want. I’ve gotta get to class.” He shakes his head as he walks away, his spine rigid and his head bowed.
I let him get a few paces away before I raise my voice, and grit out, “I trusted you, Dane. I thought you were my friend.”
He shakes his head and keeps going, putting distance between us as fast as he can.
Disappointment floods me, and my face heats from the embarrassment of his offhand dismissal. Dane was supposed to be my ally. He’s been kind. But this turn of events has me shaken. I don’t know how I expected confronting him to go, but it wasn’t like that. I hurry over to Harrington Hall and jog up the worn marble steps, then pull open the heavy door and slip inside. I’ve only got a minute or two before class starts, and I can’t think straight. I haven’t a clue whether Dane’s hiding the fact that he’s gay or if he knows more about Will than he’ll risk sayingor both.
My head has begun to pound, and while I don’t think it has anything to do with the concussion, that’s my excuse. Fuck my class. I step off to the side of the large foyer, so I’m out of the way of other students rushing to their classes. Tearing my backpack off, I squat down to dig into the front pocket for my phone. I come up with it, but also a piece of paper that was sure as hell not in my backpack before. At least, I don’t think it was. My hands shake as I open it and read.
Did you think we were done with you?
Don’t worry.
We’re waiting until you won’t
see it coming, whore.
I thought I’d somehow moved past this. Like maybe whoever had been leaving the nasty notes for me had decided it was a bad idea to threaten me like that after the guys laid into them. But no. My best guess is that whoever put that in there had to wait for a time or a place when there weren’t cameras on them 24-7. And, shit. Who the hell had that opportunity except Archer in the back seat of the car with me or Dane in class just now? But it also sounds like freaking Stuart.Shit. What was it he said?He’s threatened me like this before. “You’d better keep that door of yours dead bolted. You won’t know when I’m coming for you,initiate.”
I leave the building and head back toward Hawthorne Hall. I don’t want to tell anyone that I’m not going to class yet, so I bide my time, my brain on fire as I walk. The guys will flip their shit if I don’t tell them where I’ve gone. But I also don’t want them to stop me from leaving campus.
I wait until I get home before I shoot them a message.
Hey. Have a headache.
Heading back to sleep it off.
It’s entirely likely that at least one of the guys—Kingston, if I had to guess—will up and walk out of class right now. I don’t wait for a response because I know what they’ll say. Stay put. Wait for us.
But I’m already gone.
* * *
Thump.
Am I dreaming?
Thump, thump, thump.
No.That’s Cannon’s signature knock. Without a clue what time it is and completely bleary-eyed, I throw back the covers and sit up.
My mind immediately dives right back into what’d brought me home in the first place. I hadn’t expected Dane to act the way he had, and the more I think about it, the more I’m pissed off because I can’t see how it’s not been him leaving me these freaking notes. It makes sense… if the person who I thought was trustworthy is actually a part of this. He probably had a good laugh at my expense that day when I told him the guys weren’t who I thought they were.
My stomach flips again as the Cannon pattern of thumps hits the door again, and I hurry from the bed.
But the person on the other side of the door is not who I expected.
Not at all.
Alec stands there, an awful, sly smirk on his face. He runs his hand over his jawline as he looks me up and down. “What, not the boy toy you were expecting?” When I cross my arms over my chest and do nothing but glare, he shrugs as he continues, “I figured if you thought it was Cannon, you’d open the door.” He smirks. “I was right.”
“I’m resting. Whatever you want, I’ll come find you later.” I begin to shut the door, but he blocks me from doing so with his foot.
“No can do.”
“Why not?” My brow furrows. Could something be wrong, and he’s been sent to come get me?
