Page 3 of Dark Little Game
Can you come over in an hour?
He doesn’t respond.
I know he probably won’t send another message at all.
He hates anything that isn’tvague.
I probably won’t even hear from my boyfriend again until he decides to show up one night in Onyx House, drunk, on his own terms.
“You okay?” Weston asks.
I clench my jaw, shoving my phone back in my pocket.
“I’m too nice. And I’m sick of it.”
Weston groans with pleasure. “Fuck yeah. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to realize that? Enter your villain arc, Rayne. I’m begging you.”
I snort at him, giving him a little shove.
But I want this year to be good, too.
A steady rage is pooling in my veins, like I’m ready for a fight right now.
I almost wish Hunter was here now.
I’d take him to the ground first.
Hunter and Wes have always despised each other, too.
Every time they’d get into physical fights back in high school, I would watch closely as my anger built up like a pressure cooker threatening to blow.
Sometimes I’d try to pull Hunter away while he was trading punches with Wes.
He would shrug me off like a fly.
I managed to split his lip once, and he justsmiled. He threatened me with a butterfly knife, but his blade never touched my skin.
“At least I’ve been hitting the gym like a fucking fiend,” I tell Weston. “Hunter’s in for a treat.”
Weston furrows his brow, turning to give me a hard glance.
“Rayne. You’re not actually thinking of still trying to fight him, are you?”
I set my jaw, breathing in through my nostrils. “I won’t let him fuck with you. Or me. Or anyone in Onyx Society.”
“Do not engagewith my brother,” Wes says. “We both know that’s the best option.”
“Can’t ignore him when he puts knives to our throats.”
“Yes we can. And we will.”
Weston’s jog quickens, and I match his pace.
Suddenly we’re surrounded by the bustle of students in the main part of campus.
Crimson College is in full swing, gearing up for another school year.
I was ready to rule this campus like a goddamnkingthis year before I got the bad news about Hunter coming.
