Page 16 of Cruel Elite (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 3)

“I know which car you drive,” he says, turning around to slap the hood of my BMW. “I know when your parents leave for work and what your sister looks like.”

Delanie’s cherub-like face pops into my head. I clench my fists.

“Leave my sister out of it.”

“Don’t worry, angel. Delanie’s fine so long as you make yourself available to me.”

Hearing her name in his mouth makes me feel sick. “What does that mean?”

Tank approaches me. Blots out the moonlight.

He’s huge. Scarred. Intimidating.

And I’m too stunned to move or fight.

So I just stand there, praying he’ll disappear. Praying this is all some panic- and alcohol-induced hallucination.

Tank strokes a finger down my cheek. I try to turn away, but he grabs my chin and tilts my face up. His breath smells like alcohol and smoke.

“You’ll know soon enough. Expect me to be in touch soon.”

Just as quickly as he appeared, Tank leaves, and I’m left to stumble to my car, still unsure if what I just experienced actually happened or not.

6

Penny

When I pull into my spot in the circular driveway, I switch the engine off and sprint to the front door.

Twice tonight, I’ve been surprised by someone with bad intentions.

I don’t intend to have it happen a third time.

I hurl myself through the door, slam the bolt into place behind me, and take a few deep breaths with my back pressed against it.

It takes me a few long minutes to calm down.

When I do, I notice something.

The house smells different.

Momma scoffed when I said that a few months ago, but it does. Growing up, I’d walk through the front door of my house and smell citrus, clean linens, and sugar.

Now, there’s a hint of spice to it. Something sharper, unfamiliar.

I open the coat closet to shrug out of my distressed jean jacket and leather mules and see the moving boxes still stacked there.

How long have they been sitting there unpacked, and I’m still not used to them? They still surprise me every time.

Probably because, in the same way my mom has convinced herself I’ll one day be the perfect daughter she has always wanted, I refuse to accept reality. Refuse to accept that things are permanently changed.

That there’s no going back to the old days.

All the lights are off, but the hallway night lights set into the wall illuminate my path up the stairs and down the hall to my room.

I have my hand on my door knob, ready to slide inside and call it a night.

But instead, I turn back down the hall.

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