Page 100 of Cruel Elite (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 3)

Terror has its hooks in me now.

I jog to his car and open the driver side door. It’s unlocked.

“I think he’s inside. Let’s go in and meet this asshole and—”

“That’s my dad’s car.”

His words are hollow, lifeless. He’s staring straight out the windshield, unmoving.

My stomach drops out of my body. I want to fall to my knees, but I can’t move. “What?”

Suddenly, Noah is anything but still.

“That’s my fucking dad’s fucking car!” he screams, slamming his hands on the steering wheel, the entire car shaking. “That’s his! That’s his fucking car!”

“No. No.”

“He’s leaving me and my mom for you.” Noah let’s out a sharp laugh. “He always said he liked you. I never realized how much.”

“Me? This has nothing to do with me. I didn’t even know.”

“But he knew,” Noah spits. “He knew whose mom he was fucking, and he didn’t care. Now, he’s leaving.”

I’m holding onto the reins of a runaway horse, desperate to stop it, but ultimately powerless.

The harder I pull, the more dire the situation seems to grow.

I don’t know what to do.

“Get out of the car,” I beg. “Just get out, and we can figure this out. You’re upset, and I get it. I’m upset, too. We can—”

“You’reupset? About what?”

He turns to me, and his eyes are ice. The warmth and concern I’ve always associated with Noah has disappeared, frozen over. In its place is a frigid tundra, devoid of life.

“You lost your dad, and now you’ve got a new one. Fucking hooray for you.”

“Hey! That’s not fair.”

“None of this is fair,” he sneers. “Life isn’t fucking fair.”

“Noah.” I reach for him, but he swats my hands away, his nostrils flared.

“Don’t touch me. It will be illegal soon enough.”

I frown, confused by what he means, but then it hits me. “They aren’t getting married! Even if they do, we aren’t really related, Noah. Nothing has to change. This is all so out of control. We don’t even know what’s going on yet.”

Noah shakes his head. “I know what’s going on.”

“No, you don’t.” My words are spoken between gritted teeth. I’m clinging to this situation with everything I have in me, trying to stay calm so I can be here for Noah.

But he isn’t letting me.

He’s slipping away.

“I don’t want to see you anymore,” he says, his eyes fixed on some distant point out his windshield. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I don’t want you to text or call me. Lose my number and forget my name. Okay?”

His words are sharp as I knife. I actually glance down to see if there is some physical evidence of the blow, because I feel like my heart is being ripped out.

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