Page 102 of Cruel Elite (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 3)

“Yeah, right,” Noah scoffs.

“Yeah. Right!” I cross my arms over my chest and lean back against the door.

I used to tell Noah everything… except the worst parts about my mom. It was easy to forget how bad things were when I was with him because he didn’t know the truth.

I was afraid if he did, he’d treat me like a wounded puppy.

I didn’t want that.

“Stop playing the victim!”

“The fact that you don’t know how much my mom hates me is proof that I haven’t been,” I snap back, too angry to keep it to myself.

Noah’s brow furrows, but I keep talking before he can say anything. “Why do you think I always wanted to be at your house? Why do you think I never let you meet my mom? Because she was a bitch.Isa bitch. An abusive, manipulative bitch.”

Noah chews on the corner of his lip. “Abusive?”

“Don’t pretend you suddenly care. I don’t want to waste my breath because it won’t matter, anyway. Your dad’s been living with us for two years, and even he doesn’t know it’s going on. She’s very good at what she does.”

Noah sits back down on the edge of the bed. “Why don’t you tell someone?”

“Who would I tell? Your dad?” I shake my head. “I’ve spoken maybe six sentences to him since he moved in that weren’t strictly required. This may come as a surprise to you, but we aren’t exactly close. He sort of ruined my life.”

I can see Noah taking in the information, but I keep my expectations low.

We get quiet for a while, the only sound in the room coming from the party raging just downstairs. The thump of the bass vibrates the floor, sending small jolts through my body, though in a relaxing way. A grounding way.

It feels good to finally tell Noah a little bit of the truth.

It isn’t the way it used to be, but it’s something.

Finally, Noah stands up, stretches his arms over his head, the sleeves of his shirt sliding down to his forearms.

Then, he sighs and nods to the door. “Let’s go.”

“Back to the party?”

If he wants to take me back to the party, I have to assume it isn’t for wholesome reasons. It would mean that everything I’ve just said has changed nothing for him.

He won’t want to be seen with me all night and have us be talked about for days if it does nothing to benefit him.

Noah shakes his head. “No. Somewhere else. Let’s go.”

He opens the door and ushers me out, closing it behind us.

People walk up as we move through the party, but Noah gives them a terse nod and keeps going, not slowing down at all.

Amazingly, we make it through the entire house without talking to anyone.

When we get to the car, he opens the passenger door before walking around to the driver’s side.

The night is dark, especially out in the country, and I’m not sure where we’re going.

I know I should be paying more attention. I can’t trust Noah.

No matter how much I wish things were different, I don’t know what’s part of his plan and what isn’t.

What’s a trap and what’s real.

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